#dracaeons

[hemerasiae]

let me present you with mine and @dracaeons vision:

the della.mortes in their failed bids to become a couple’s third—

luca.nis who fumbled the bag with viago vs ill.ario who fumbled the bag with teia.

[fals3nd]

@dracaeons said ; i’m ending it. i don’t care what it takes. - fenris to calpernia :) ( accepting )

fingers dance over the page of the book open in her lap and calpernia tips her head. ankles are crossed daintily from where she's seated on a low sofa, more lounging than anything. "yes," she agrees evenly, "but how do you intend on doing it? words are nothing, but the wrong action will just make things topple." speaking from experience, isn't she, who has famously backed the wrong horse.

[calperna]

she is pacing. it is not an unusual sight - fingers flexing 'round the head of her cane, eyes blazing and jaw tight with barely contained anger. it is a look that has born dozens of plots that have been shut down swiftly by the others over the years. at least it is quiet tonight, the base mostly sleepy and silent but for the few clusters of people gathered in corners. "we are not doing enough," a common refrain from her lips, especially towards ashur, especially when reports of civilians gone missing have reached their ears, "half a dozen people taken off the street and here we stand, claiming to be here as aid and showing ourselves to be just as useless as any who came before."

@dracaeons

[stormlit]

❝ i thought i would be dead. ❞ this is said with neither relief nor wishful thinking — inés has assumed death is coming for her since she was about seven years old, when they first made her kill a fellow crow recruit, it has been a long time since her own mortality has scared her, yet she's not asking for it — but with fact. she thought she would be dead trying to stop solas; she had not anticipated an after. it is wholly terrifying. how did ellas do it? how did she do it twice, after the blight and then again a decade later, and still get herself involved in all of this?

the cobbled swan is empty again, but it feels different, this time. it might be the last one; they'll have no more reasons for these rendezvous, will they? ❝ i will not be returning to—the antivan crows and i are...hm. i hate them, actually. ❞ it appears that diplomacy is not a skill that can be taught. lucanis will make sure she's free to live her life unhindered; they may not be friends, but he'll give her that. the problem is, inés isn't sure it's enough. she wants to tear them down; rage simmers beneath her skin.

❝ you will still be working in the south, yes? i imagine there's much to rebuild. ❞

@dracaeons (ellas) liked for a starter

[withoutabsolution]

“amor,” zevran tries to get ellas’ attention, his eyes trailing after her as she paces back and forth in front of him.  when he seemingly fails to do so, he pushes himself up from where he’d been lounging, half-sprawled on his back. “vamos, amor,” he sighs dramatically, seeking to sweep @dracaeons​ up into his arms for a moment, clearly trying to commandeer her focus in a more direct way. “all of this pacing, all of this worrying, it only serves your enemies, yes?” his hands come to rest at her shoulders as he searches her eyes. “one day.  one day is all i ask!  let me take you somewhere exciting, somewhere... fun!”

[huntminded]

“ That’s… not what I pictured. ” fenris to vaea!! / @dracaeons​

“Isn’t it?” She holds the object away from her with the barest grip required to keep it from clanging at Fenris’ feet, looking between it and him with a mixture of fascination and revulsion. “What did you expect? You were the one with the information. I’m just the fetch...the one playing fetch, here.” And damned if she doesn’t toss it to at him, unconcerned whether he catches it or not. 

There’s no noise to make her cover her ears and draw the attention of everyone within two blocks, though.

“Are you coming? It’s a long walk back."

[antlerwreath]

@dracaeons liked for a starter.

“do you ever think about coming back?” keyleth asks one day as they sit on one of the higher peaks of zephrah together.  they have their legs out in front of them, their bare feet close to dangling off the edge.  comfortable in fenris’ presence, their staff lies at their open side, unmoving in the grass.  they hesitate to look at him, fearful of the look on his face, but eventually, they glance to their side.         “to zephrah, i mean.  would you...” she pauses, holding the breath she’d been intending to take, and then swallows her nerves. “would you want to?”

[fawnslay]

“what are you going to do after?” it is a question that could have been asked in some light, bouncy tongue, but greer poses it quiet and travel-worn. perhaps asking a question she has no answer for is a poor choice. if it turned back upon her, greer will have no answer. she does not want to rule. she does not want the mantle of teyrna. highever would be haunted and ghastly and there is no way it will feel like HOME without familiar faces within those stone walls. after HOWE IS DEAD, there is no direction.

“ - i believe zevran has all sorts of equally awful and overly lavish ideas in mind.”

     @dracaeons​