PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
macklin celebrini has autism
Claire Keane
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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todays bird
we're not kids anymore.
Jules of Nature
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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Not today Justin
cherry valley forever
pixel skylines
ojovivo
izzy's playlists!
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occasionally subtle
seen from Türkiye
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@dutifulsacrifice-blog
@enansalen
His boots were full of sand and stones and an assortment of the Hissing Wastes at the bottom of his shoe. He hated it; the heat, the sand, the very reason that they had traveled there, he was not in the best of mood. Though, with the sun falling over the horizon, and the sands cooling beneath the bedrolls already laid out for the night, it was beginning to feel at least less miserable. “Oh, by the Maker. The sooner we leave for Skyhold, the better.”
Starter Call.
@ayalavellan
"I must admit, I do not know where the Wardens fit into all of this." Alistair muttered softly to the elven woman, his eyes occupied by his blood soaked sword as he cleaned it. "Where do you see us doing the most help, Inquisitor?"
@nolongercaptain
"Isabella?"
Seeing the woman again brought a crimson blush to his cheeks; the pirate had a rather colorful history, one he may or may not have been a part of. "Fancy seeing you here."
PSA
Before I get started on those starters... face claim change because this image right here.
Starter call
Still a good two hours until my Fourth of July festivities begin. Sideblogs, feel welcome to reblog.
Day at the Festival
“Nothing against ale, but all the freshly laid snow at Skyhold, it would be more refreshing…” He started off in the direction she pointed out with a wide smile. “The Inquisition doesn’t turn anyone away, as far as I know. Besides, they owe me one.”
His smile lessening her concern, the grin returns to her face as well. “That’s true,” She shrugged with a bit of a laugh. “I don’t drink much either, but I guess I’ve been hanging around people who do a lot lately, so I wasn’t positive exactly what type of drink you were talking about.”
As they aproched the carts, she decided to ask, “What did you do for them that they owe you for, if you don’t mind me asking?”
"Oh, don't get me wrong. I drink... a lot, but it's been some time since I had water made from freshly laid snow." With the Wardens, each member had their own special brew. Alistair's was sweet, but also with a hint of something else. Cinnamon, perhaps.
"That is... classified. You could ask the Inquisitor but it is not my business to tell." Alistair shrugged again. "A lot of the 'work' questions are classified, I'm afraid. More so the Wardens than my help with the Inquisition, but I don't know how much of what they want spread around. I helped with whatever happened between the Wardens and the Inquisition, that's all I will tell."
It would be polite to let him dress in peace, but as he hasn’t dismissed her yet, she sees no reason to take her leave. The conversation is an important one to her, and she knows that there is no one more qualified to give her advice, or at the very least better inform her, than Alistair.
Loghain had seen to that.
Her stomach clenches tight with anger, and she reminds herself that he’ll get what’s coming to him. His betrayal will not go unanswered, not while she still draws breath, and that has to be enough for now.
Padding closer, she extends a hand toward his armor, offering, “I can help with that. It’s similar enough to what my brother wore.”
And now it’s her chest, tight and hot, thinking of Fergus – wondering if he lives yet, and knowing that it’s likely he doesn’t. Her entire family, felled by the treachery of one man and his wretched ambition.
Maker, she knows it’s not right to hate, but she would see Arl Howe flayed alive for what he’s done.
Busying her hands with Alistair’s armor, she says calmly, “With any luck, Andraste’s ashes await us, Arl Eamon will recover, and Loghain…”
Her tone turns harsh, dropping lower still. “We will have his head for his crimes. I would endure anything to see that traitor and his followers brought to judgment.”
Alistair sighed, a hand running over his face from the figurative headache that was their situation. He, a new Grey Warden himself, tasked with training an even fresher face about the orders values and beliefs and duties. A Warden was suppose to keep a neutral stance, away from the forefront of politics, and stand to the sidelines until duty called. And now what? They openly opposed the self-proclaimed regent and sought aid from the one politician who would also oppose Loghain.
Not to mention the fact that they knew of at least one successor to King Cailan's throne who had rightful cause to stride it, and he wanted nothing to do with it. Alistair himself.
With all the mess they seemed to continually get themselves into, the headache was surprisingly nonexistent. Aside from waking up in a sweaty stupor, that was it's own kind of pain. "Of course, be my guest." He offered her the chance to right his armor without a though.
Alistair pulled his boots closer, running his hand through them to make sure there were no critters or crawlies inside. He pulled them on before anything else, wiggling his toes around inside before reaching for the unbuckled bits of armour Edelyn set aside. He was grateful for the help, it cut his time in half and it was faster than his normal method, at any rate. Slipping bits of armour over a thicker undergarment was a bit more difficult.
"I certainly hope so. If not to right the wrong Loghain has wrought, then so Eamon can awake and help us do so. He is a good man, faithful to his land and his wife." Despite the hardships she put him through, Alistair could respect the relationship between Eamon and Isolde, though he wasn't her biggest fan. The feeling was mutual, if his childhood with the Chantry said anything.
He placed a gentle hand on hers, giving her a small smile before turning serious, dropping his hand from hers. "That bastard is going to rue the day he crossed the Grey Wardens. You have my word, Edelyn, we will make him pay. We could even put his head on a pike, make Loghain puppet shows. Something unusual." He joked trying to lighten the mood.
Meeting A Grey Warden
The elf was alone at the hanged man. He was not needed by Hawke and thus decided to drink. The tavern was not a nice place to hang out. There was blood stains and possibly teeth on the floor. The place had a horrible smell, but compared to corpses in his mansion though… it was fine.
Fenris had rather cheap water down ale. It was not his usual taste of alcohol, but he was certain he would be more pissed off at water down wine. He might as well attempt to enjoy it. Then something bright caught his eyes.
Hmm…blue armor…weird familiar though…
“ You seem out of place there in your armor.”
@dutifulsacrifice
A drink. Just the one, something to wet his whistle before finding his men somewhere down the Wounded Coast and having a laugh about getting lost. Of course, in full Warden armour in a place with many Ferelden refugees, he was bound to get stopped and asked about something he’d rather forget about. Namely, either the Blight, darkspawn, Ferelden, or the Hero of Ferelden, if he were incredibly unlucky.
Well, you win some, you lose some.
Entering the Hanged Man was easy, some stared and many others were too drunk to even see the Gryphon insignia upon his chest. There was an elf who stared fairly long, white markings lining his chin and arms, seemingly attached, as peculiar as it sounded. He moved to talk to Alistair before he'd even ordered, and the man chuckled at his words.
"You have no idea. Bit like this everywhere, in fact, but don't mind me. I'm much more out of place where ever it is nobles do their drinking."
Sentence Meme {Princess Bride}
“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”
“Drop. Your. Sword.”
“Life is pain, _____. Anybody who says otherwise is selling something.”
“I am not left handed.”
“As you wish.”
“I wasn’t worried. Maybe I was a little bit concerned, but that’s not the same thing.”
“You mean you wish to surrender to me? Very well, I accept.”
“Truly, you have a dizzying intellect.”
“Mawage. Mawage is wot bwings us togeder today.”
“Have fun storming the castle.”
“There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours.”
“Is very strange. I have been in the revenge business so long, now that it’s over, I don’t know what to do with the rest of my life.”
“Have you ever considered piracy?”
“Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.”
“Good night, _____. Good work. Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.”
“You’re trying to kidnap what I’ve rightfully stolen.”
“You seem a decent fellow… I hate to kill you.”
“You seem a decent fellow… I hate to die.”
“You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles.”
“Rodents Of Unusual Size? I don’t think they exist.”
“You can die slowly, cut into a thousand pieces.”
“You killed my love.”
“It’s possible. I kill a lot of people.”
“I’ve hired you to help me start a war. It’s an prestigious line of work, with a long and glorious tradition.”
“No one would surrender to the Dread Pirate _____.”
“I got married. I didn’t want to - it all happened so fast.”
“Then you’re not married. You didn’t say it; you didn’t do it.”
“Is this a kissing book?”
“A word, my lady/lord. We are but poor, lost circus performers. Is there a village nearby?”
“I’ve got my country’s 500th anniversary to plan, my wedding to arrange, my wife/husband to murder and _____ to frame for it; I’m swamped.”
“There’s a big difference between mostly dead and all dead.”
“Yes, you’re very smart. Shut up.”
“Please consider me as an alternative to suicide.”
“There will be blood tonight!”
“That is the sound of ultimate suffering.”
“Look, I don’t mean to be rude but this is not as easy as it looks, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t distract me.”
“I challenge you to a battle of wits.”
“You mean, you’ll put down your rock and I’ll put down my sword, and we’ll try and kill each other like civilized people?”
“Thank you so much for bringing up such a painful subject. While you’re at it, why don’t you give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it?”
“She/He is alive, or was an hour ago. If she/he is otherwise when I find her/him I shall be very put out.”
“You can die too for all I care!”
“So I’m here till I die?”
“I can cope with torture.”
“I fight gangs for local charities and stuff.”
“That was a warning, _____. Next time my hand flies on its own. Where I come from, there are penalties when a woman/man lies.”
“I will never love again.”
“You mocked me once, never do it again! I died that day!”
“To the Pain means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever.”
“Never go in against a ____ when death is on the line!”
“We are men of action. Lies do not become us.”
“They were both poisoned. I spent the last few years building up an immunity to iocane powder.”
“I would as soon destroy a stained-glass window as an artist like yourself.”
“I just work for ____ to pay the bills.”
“It’s not my fault I’m the biggest and the strongest. I don’t even exercise.”
“I believe everything to be a trap. It’s the reason I’m still alive.”
“Stop saying that!”
About page edited, check it out.
Day at the Festival
"Nothing against ale, but all the freshly laid snow at Skyhold, it would be more refreshing..." He started off in the direction she pointed out with a wide smile. "The Inquisition doesn't turn anyone away, as far as I know. Besides, they owe me one."
Last year I set up Dwarf Appreciation Week, and was totally blown away by the response it got. So I decided to make it a yearly thing, as well as to set up a blog to keep everything all nice and archived. So if you love dwarves, take a gander over at @dwarfappreciationweek!
Dwarf Appreciation Week will run from July 24th to July 30th. If you’d like to take part, please tag your posts with #dwarf appreciation week! I’d love a chance to reblog all the awesome dwarf-centered art, fics, graphics, meta, headcanons, fanmixes, cosplays that people come up with. If it’s dwarf-related, tag it!
DAILY THEMES
To aid in creative efforts, I’ve decided to do a daily theme throughout the week, focusing on various dwarves of Thedas.
July 24th: Cadash Appreciation–A day to focus on our lovely Inquisitor Cadash. Tell us all about your inquisitor, through art, fic, personal headcanons, graphics. It’s up to you! What choices did they make throughout the events of Inquisition? Who did they romance? How did they come to be, even before the Breach? July 25th: Warden Appreciation–Focusing on our dwarven Wardens, Brosca, Aeducan, and Kader. What sort of Warden did they become, who did they romance, what choices did they make during and after the Blight? July 26th: Dwarven Gals–A day to love and appreciate the fine lady dwarves we’ve met throughout Dragon Age. Tell us your love for Dagna, Bianca, Sigrun, Lace Harding, or any of the other lady dwarves that come to mind. July 27th: Dwarven Dudes–Can’t forget our fantastic dwarven dudes! Got love to proclaim for Sandal, Bodahn, Varric, Oghren, or any other dwarf dude in Dragon Age? Today’s the day to do just that. July 28th: Shale Appreciation–As a golem, Shale canonly has no gender, but that doesn’t mean you can’t love them any less. Show some slightly squishy love for Shale today. July 29th-July 30th: Dwarves of Thedas–A more generalized focus on dwarves of Thedas. Perfect for any meta, graphics, fanart, or fanmixes for dwarves that don’t apply to one character or another.
As stated, I’ll be reblogging anything that’s tagged under #dwarf appreciation week. But please be courteous to others and tag your nsfw! Otherwise, have fun and enjoy the awesome content that you or others have created.
Feel free to reblog as well! Let’s get the word out for the event.
what if all Templars go through the same tranquility rite as Seekers do though
I mean
Alistair’s line about Templars not needing lyrium to use their abilities is generally disregarded as retconned by meta-commentary in the comics, but we actually can’t disregard that line anymore because
one of the possible endings to Inquisition is that Cullen opens a clinic to help Templars shed the lyrium addiction, and many Templars follow his example and sober up, and yet somehow are still able to remain Templars (which only makes sense if they’re still able to use their Templar abilities, otherwise they’d just be generic soldiers).
further, Cullen is able to use Templar abilities in the Shrine of Dumat; yes, gameplay x narrative separation, but he can.
we’ve heard from the mouth of several Templars at this point (Alistair, Cullen, Evangeline, Samson, etc even Lambert) that lyrium has always been more of a leash that the Chantry used to keep them dependent and obedient than a necessary source of power for their abilities
so in a world where it is verifiably possible to use Templar abilities without consuming lyrium
what if all Templar initiates go through the same Tranquility rite that Cassandra found out about in the Lord Seeker’s tome; the one that gives Seekers their pseudo-magic abilities without the lyrium leash
and that horrible lyrium-branding initiation rite described in Way of The Templar is a harrowing of sorts, serving as both a ceremonial pantomime to make new Templar-Knights feel that they’ve gone through some kind of “joining ritual” (since they know about/don’t remember going through the Tranquility rite) and the instrument to force the lyrium into their system, so they can then be leashed through ratios and controlled withdrawal
remember that mysterious ritual in DA2 that the Templar initiates were all gossiping about and both Cullen and Carver dismiss as just a really boring vigil where the worst danger is to fall asleep
what if that “vigil” is the rite and they just don’t remember anything
and that’s how Alistair is still able to use Templar abilities despite having never been initiated into lyrium, and that’s how post-Inquisition Templar can still be Templars even as more&more of them quit lyrium
this is such an insidious and terrying notion
it would also explain so much
When you're roleplaying and your character is doing/saying something that is a really bad idea and you know it. And all you can do is sit there, typing it, like
❛ STRIKE ME DOWN, OVER AND OVER AGAIN TO COME BACK STRONGER. ❜
“‘Why, good morning, Alistair, I hope you had a pleasant night’s rest? You’ll be freezing your arse off all day, and the next few nights while your at it, so do remember to where something warm under your armour. It’s our turn for watch until it comes time to wake the others up, though, so kindly do get up and make yourself presentable.’” He drowned off in a mock of her voice, paired with a stern look and a nod to finish it off.
He say up slowly, stretched out a yawn and reached across his pack for his tunic. “Of course, I did say it a bit nicer. Your’s was closer to ‘wake up, you stupid lump, it’s time for watch.’ Bit of a rude awakening, if I do say so myself. Tsk, Tsk.”
She fixes him with an unimpressed look, unbothered by the reproach in his tone as he rifles through his things and prepares for their watch. She could be kinder, it’s true, and a little softer of a morning, but she is tired, too. Dark circles purple under her eyes, and she’s been plagued by nightmares near ceaselessly for the past two nights.
That’s not Alistair’s fault, though, and it’s unworthy of her to take it out on him. (There are days, though, where she wishes he didn’t make it so easy to do.)
Extending the bundle toward him, she says shortly, “Break your fast. I’ve a fire going, but we’ll need to snuff it before too long.”
In a better mood, she might have welcomed his humor and the sharp edges of his sass. It would be prudent to remind herself of that, considering they have the next few hours’ worth of watch to pass together.
She almost leaves it at that, but adds, “You’ve been sleeping well, then, these past few nights?” slightly too casually to be authentic.
He bit back a comment on her glare, his teeth clenched to keep his mouth from getting him in trouble. Alistair slid his tight underarmour tunic over his head to occupy himself, then reached into his pack for the thicker lining he bought at the last town they passed. He put that on as well before giving his armour a sad little sigh.
The morning would go faster, he told himself, if he remembered why they were heading into the mountains to begin with. They were the only hope Ferelden had.
"Ah, a woman after my own heart." He teased, taking the small bundle from her with a small smile. "Thank you."
He tucked in quickly, as suggested, taking larger mouthfuls than probably wise to get the meager meal down and finish dressing in his splintmail. Her question threw him off, and his chewing slowed to a stop before he swallowed roughly. Had he been sleeping well? If anything, it wasn't restful- they shared the dreams of twisted creatures and a corrupt dragon leading their command. If anyone knew how he was sleeping, it would be she.
"About as well as one would expect in these times. Or, you know, not really. At all." He took another, smaller bite and swallowed quickly. "These dreams won't stop, you know. Before, it was just a song, easier to sleep to. But now...?" He finished off the morsels he was given before reaching out for his armour.
"We'll learn to endure."
