Ferelden's Hero

Indie Mage!Origin Warden~! Please red rules/about before interacting~ FC: Kaya Scodelario

[greymageamell]

fulluponcrazy:

“Secretly, I wasn’t even that drunk until we got back to the estate. I just really wanted an excuse to punch him and I wasn’t going to argue.”

“Besides, those were my favorite boots.”

“Now aren’t you glad you go along with my stupid ideas? You made a pretty convincing  drunken husband though.”

“...He paid you back for them didn’t he?”

[greymageamell]

“The very fact he had to think about it impresses me...”

“And that he could remember that much of that night....”

[greymageamell]

fulluponcrazy:

“I volunteer. And if it’s a good story, I might even pay for your drink.” He is, inexplicably, wearing a flower crown.

“Before I start anything, I have to ask.”

“Why are you wearing a flower crown, and where can I get one?”

[greymageamell]

“I’m here, I’m still alive! Maybe a couple extra scars, bruises and general wounding but alive nonetheless.

Anyone miss me? Or wanna go grab a drink? Got a funny story about the bear and the Genlock.”

[greymageamell]

((Hello? o3o))

[greymageamell]

==

-peeks in-

Hello?

[fulluponcrazy]

“No thanks.”

[greymageamell]

“Don’t be impossible, what’s going on.”

[fulluponcrazy]

You think I’m full of shit. I think you’re full of shit. That’s just our dynamic.

[greymageamell]

“Alistair...”

[fulluponcrazy]

“Everything is perfectly fine.”

[greymageamell]

This is the face of someone who thinks you’re full of shit.

[greymageamell]

“What the hell is going on?”

[greymageamell]

“She’ll be back.”

“Ser–”

“She’ll be back,” Alistair snapped, ignoring how the messenger cringed at his tone and his glower. “She’s following a lead,” he insisted. “She disappears all the time. It’s what she does. She’ll be back.”

“Ser, we found her staff,” the messenger pointed out meekly.

“She–”

“The Nightingale has confirmed it, Ser. The Hero of Ferelden is dead.”

Alistair stilled, whetstone and blade clattering loudly to the floor as his hands went lax. Confirmed by Leliana herself. Anyone else, and perhaps Alistair would insist there was a chance, but Leliana?

“Ser Alistair?” the messenger prompted worriedly.

“Leave.” It felt like someone else was saying it, the word distant and fuzzy.

“But–”

“Get out!” The whetstone was seized and hurled in a single motion, and the messenger fled. Alistair was alone, staring at his hands like they belonged to someone else. Death and duty went hand-in-hand for Wardens, he knew that, but he was never supposed to outlive Camilla, that wasn’t how it was supposed to go, and it felt like the world had been knocked off its hinges and flipped over sideways, something in its foundation suddenly cracked and rotten.

He ground his teeth and scrubbed a fist across his eyes, and dragged a hand through his hair, fingers fisting. He had to–had to–to…what? What now? What was the point?

My muse is dead. Tell me how yours is dealing with it.

[greymageamell]

✖

Send ✖ for my muses opinion on yours. ((Accepting ofc))

Alistair is, in turn, Camilla’s best friend and one of the people she can trust the most (along with a lot of the Origins team). As much shit as she gives him, either through relentless teasing or her stupid and reckless ideas, she loves him as she would a brother or her cousins. If he would turn into a guard dog to defend her honor, she would have no problem threatening anyone who would make any snide and rude comments. Only she can get away with that without making it sound malicious or with the intent of hurting his pride or his honor as a Warden.

That being said: he is the voice of reason (most of the time) whens he decides to rush in headfirst into a fight.

Send ✖ for my muses opinion on yours.

[greymageamell]

Roses are red, force magic is sometimes blue. You're also a really cool cousin. We should've met sooner.

“I know exactly who sent this!”

Needless to say, it makes her extremely happy and she tucks it away somewhere.

Send my muse love letters on anon. Bonus points if you drop a hint on who sent it.

[hidinginhumor]

Neil winces at that. “Shit, did I? That definitely wasn’t intentional,” he replies. He follows his cousin’s lead over the countryside. When the sounds of their pursuer die out, the mage stops. Panting, he puts his hands on his knees. “I think we lost him. Maker, I haven’t run like that in a long time.”

[greymageamell]

Camilla leans against a nearby tree,before sliding down and finding herself on the ground, panting heavily. “I haven’t run that much  in ages.” She says, before she couldn’t help herself and laughs a tad loudly. “That was fun though, how do I let you talk me into these kinds of things, cousin?”