#exspiravitlibertus

[regempopuli-archive-blog]

exspiravitlibertus answered your question “Would I be Kirk or Spock?”

Spock for something different? I don't know you that well but Alistair and Kirk seem more similar than.. yeah

I don’t even know if i could be that logical.

[tosolvethequn]

✂

✂ — a vivid memory

(also asked by @alanari-lavellan ) 

“Mamae!  Please!” Callisto screamed as the Magister’s representative picked her up off the ground after money had changed hands.  The sack given to her father was huge and the grip the scarily sober man was firm on her mother who was also screaming.

“Calli!” Xan’s voice broke the screaming as he started running towards her, only to be tripped by her father.  

The door to the carriage opened and the last thing she saw as it started to roll away was her mother running after it as her father beat up her teenage brother, a bag of gold in one of his hands.

“You’re even prettier up close,” the magister’s voice drew her attention and terror settled deep in her stomach.

[inquisitormaiwe-blog]

Her people knew of Hawke. Her clan had been connected enough to the human world that such news couldn't escape them. And now, of course, Maiwe knew Hawke, had traveled to the Fade with him. They had both somehow walked away alive.

Of Hawke's companions, Maiwe knew little. She could beg Varric for tales, could read Varric's books, but they were figures on paper, legendary but not quite real. Both Varric and Hawke indicated they still existed though, still haunted the fringes of society, doing what they would to make their mark on the world. That's what had brought the Inquisitor to this idea, as hare-brained as it seemed. She had Tevinters she needed to hunt down, but knew nothing of their movements. One of Hawke's companions had been an expert in hunting down slavers, hadn't he?

The word was out. The Inquisitor graciously requested the presence of Fenris. His aid was needed in a delicate matter that she would only reveal in strictest confidence. There was to be wine (Varric's idea) and gold as a reward. The question only remained- would he come? Where did he run now?

To meet another elf who wasn't Dalish was another motivation. Perhaps he wouldn't hate her people, as Solas and Sera seemed to do. Perhaps he had some spectacular insight on being an elf and being a heroic figure, some advice that the others could not give her. Perhaps (unlikely), he had some Tevinter herbs and potions he could slip her on the sly, something to keep her going despite her pains.

Now she could only sit in the garden at Skyhold each day, reading over the long list of requests, and hope he would come.

[cuervocanto]

exspiravitlibertus replied to your post: exspiravitlibertus asked:"Well yo...

"Don’t be absurd. Every time I turn around I half expect you to be flinging yourself at a furious qunari or something else equally dangerous and foolish."

Zevran laughed. 

“I prefer to think of it as appreciating my mortality. Nothing makes you enjoy life more than tempting the jaws of death, no? Besides, furious qunari make excellent sparring partners. You are missing out.” 

[accxpiter-blog]

exspiravitlibertus replied to your post

"…….Sure, Hawke. You do that. I’m sure it will work in no time."

  “ . . . If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have no faith in me, Fenris.            I’m wounded. Good thing I know better. “

[accxpiter-blog]

"Your problem is that you wish to become a dragon so badly, that the universe sees no choice but to keep it from you. Have you never noticed that the more you desire a thing, the less likely you are to have it?"

    “ . . . Alright. But.             What if how badly I desire it outweighs the universe’s             desire to keep it from me ?   Then I can beat the universe,             become a dragon, and rain fire upon it and its awful             and unfair desires. “

[cuervocanto]

[continued from x]

Zevran scoffed loudly.

“You wound me. I am many things, my friend, not all of them pleasant, but the kind to touch someone without permission, that is something entirely different.” 

He made a grand offended display of turning his back to Fenris, resting his chin on folded arms on the bank. He had thought once that Fenris could catch a glimpse beyond the mask of hedonism--after all, he of all people should know what it was like to wear masks--but perhaps he was wrong. Zevran had absolutely no right to feel miffed that his disguise worked exactly as intended, but here he was. 

“But if you prefer to visit a hot spring only to stand outside of it, then be my guest.”