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@ianazavi sent: ❝ I had a dream about you last night. ❞A weird statement from a random dalish girl - just another hala-eyed blond with pale branchy Vallaslin.“ Yeah… I’m pretty sure it was you. Funny things - dreams.”
~ Solas simply raises a brow at the girl. “ About me? Are you certain? I don’t believe we’ve met.” ~
Parting Ways
It was getting closer. Too close. Soon Mareloen will leave and she will be left to take care of the estate. Gone to Tevinter without her. Just as she wished…
But now things were different. There was no one keeping her here. There was Leon but well…
Her heart still aches thinking of such things. She was silly to think that it would lead anywhere. Even if he made her believe so she should have known better. And yet…
It was far too easy to get caught up in the fantasy of it all. She used those words once with Mareloen and he didn’t seem to favor them all too much. Her fantasy and his nightmare if she recalls correctly. Something about how Leon would have succumbed to mortality in half a century and the problems it would have caused. Genevive wonders… Sometimes it seems like Mareloen forgets that she too is mortal. That she too will fall ill to the fate of humanity. Half a century… To her it seems like a long while away but to Mareloen it’s not much more than a blink of an eye she’d suppose. They are so different… One day she will be gone and he living as if she never had existed. Perhaps not at first but after a couple decades or centuries surely her memory must fade from his mind. And there's a pang in her chest at such thoughts. A sadness to it all. When will it end? All the hurt… Genevieve remembers a time all she really felt was joy. A time she was able to find the positive of even the most negative but it seems as if the tide has turned and such things are becoming harder and harder. A certain despair… A hopelessness to the future.
But alas… Best not dwell on such. She can still put on a smile and pretend everything is alright. For now that's all she can do…
Like now! Grabbing the basket of goodies she puts on a smile and greets Mareloen as he enters the kitchen. She was going to find him but this works too!
“Goodmorning,” she greets all too cheery, the sound dancing off the walls to an almost eerie tune. “I made you some muffins. They’re fresh, straight from the oven.” Recently Genevieve has taken up baking as a way to pass time when she wasn’t studying or training. It was always easier to go to the market and buy her morning treats but now the market has become a place she avoids, everything reminding her of him. “I’m hoping they turned out better than the last batch. I couldn’t even get Hawke to swallow one and that man will eat anything. But I’m fairly certain I used the sugar instead of salt this time around. It’s not my fault they look deceptively similar. Quite suspicious if you ask me,” she jests, holding one out for him. “I used blueberries and lemon this time. They smell quite good, hopefully they’ll match in taste.” But her eyes shine, a sorrow laden deep within. “I know it probably won’t be as good as the ones I’d bring from the market but hopefully they aren’t too disappointing.” Looking up at him she waits for him to take a bite, a tad nervous for some reason. “I hope to perfect them before your journey. I wish to slip a few in your pack. Something to remember me by. There are only a few days left before you leave…”
Things were hectic to say the least. Tevinter was no small journey after all and they needed to make sure Mareloen left with everything he needed. If only he needed her as well… But alas. It was her choice. Her decision. And she doesn't have the heart to ask to come with. Not when they spent the past couple of weeks going over her tasks and duties here while he was away. There were too many responsibilities that needed to be taken care of and there was no one else to do them but her.
@daimeshadows
He'd completely walked by her! Ethel was almost a little offended, but then... Smirking to herself, she sneaked up to his desk and grabbed a quill. Quickly leaving a little dot with lines for legs on the very top paper, she hid under the table and waited....
It never stopped.
It was always one thing or another at Skyhold; he wasn’t even important here and Asher was still being dragged from pillar to post. Maker, just give me ten minutes, please.
If he’d had any sort of time to spare at all, he would have gladly spoke to Ethel, even if all he could say was sorry and offer an explanation for his behaviour. But no. Now all he could hope was that she understood he was busy. He’d make it up to her; at least he’d try to.
Finally finding himself with a few moments to spare, Asher entered his room, leaned against his closed door, and ran a hand down his face. His headaches were back with a vengeance. “Ugh..” Pushing slowly to his feet, he made his way towards his desk and smiled at the mystery box that sat on the edge. Reaching out to pick it up once more, he caught sight of a familiar shape on one of the papers.
“FUCK”
“How is that NOT weird?” - M
“He’s never really had to hunt before. Maybe he doesn’t know how to tell if something is dead yet,” Iveani said, scooping up Cricket, the cat she’d adopted.
He was getting bigger. He was still growing, and would be about 9 kg when he was an adult, but he was big enough to be able to roam the temples a little bit. He usually didn’t, choosing to instead stay close to Iveani, but he got bored at night.
“He leaves gifts in my bed in the morning, too. Only hair ties he steals from me, though,” she told Mareloen, scratching behind one of Cricket’s ears as he purred.
The Calling
@ianazavi
The Grey Warden has been assigned a mission by the Inquisition to find out where the other wardens went. So far he had been out of luck and the calling was getting worse. He decided to rest in the woods, laying down his bedroll and looking up at the sky. Seeing the small scar left in the sky from the Inquisitor closing the Breach. He closes his eyes and tries to focus but the song of the Darkspawn echoes in his head. The call to the Deep Roads. Had they found another arch demon already? It had only been 10 years since the Blight in Fereldan. The small fire burns and he reaches for his waterskin to take a drink of water. Laying back down before he hears the crunch of leaves.
ABCs of your OCs T and P
T: Truth
1. are they honest?
Yes, very. She very rarely lies outright. She does leave out information sometimes, which maybe you could argue is lying by omission, but she doesn’t see it that way.
2. can they tell if someone is lying?
She’s bad at telling based off of body language, if that’s what you mean. She does go into situations with as much information as she can, so she can catch people if they contradict information she already knew from sources she trusts more, but that’s about it.
3. is it obvious when they’re lying?
No. She’s not the best liar, but she gets by when she has to.
4. have they lied about anything they regret lying about?
She let Celene die and then told everyone outside of a couple members of her inner circle that she tried to stop it, but couldn’t. It makes her feel really icky, because she’s supposed to be doing people. But she thought that Briala was best suited for the job and the way for Briala to have the most power is if she rules through Gaspard. She also reminds herself that Celene purged an alienage. Don’t get me wrong, she thinks it’s absolutely disgusting and morally repulsive. But she wonders if there was a way she could have atoned somehow. I think it might be part of the reason why she later gave Samson a chance to atone by serving the Inquisition.
5. have they told truths that have been spread against their will?
No, but she’s scared of that happening. It’s a big part of the reason why she keeps her past to herself so much. Yeah, she doesn’t particularly enjoy talking about it, but she mostly doesn’t want everyone knowing. Intellectually, she recognizes that it wasn’t her fault, but she still blames herself and she assumes everyone else will do the same, and she doesn’t know how she’d handle it and thinks it would hurt the Inquisition’s reputation.
P: Personality
1. what is their best personality trait?
It’s both her best and her worst trait, but she feels very deeply. She cares about everything and is very empathetic.
2. what is their worst personality trait?
Again, she feels very deeply. It makes her act on emotion without stopping to consider what she’s doing, which is sometimes okay, but leads her to making some bad decisions. Most notably, getting her entire clan killed because she rushed to have the duke assassinated instead of taking a minute to think about how her clan would be blamed.
3. what of their personality do others love?
Her ability to get the things that matter most done.
4. what of their personality do others envy?
How she genuinely appreciates and loves the world and life in general, despite everything.
5. do they hate anything about their personality/about other’s personalities?
She hates her ADHD. She doesn’t know it’s ADHD, because I doubt it’s recognized in Thedas, so she assumes it’s all a moral failing on her behalf, and the fact that it impacts her means she’s just not trying hard enough.
In other people, she hates when they don’t care about others.
@ianazavi;
Ether doesn’t reply. Instead she grabs his face covering his cheeks with kisses before wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging Roland tightly as if to keep him from vanishing. As if this could be but a dream and he won’t be there when she wakes up - her eyes are still read from the tears she cried when they told her.
“ Don’t you ever do that again!” - she mutters angrily, before finding the strength to let Roland go and take a second look at him.
“ You look like a pride demon chewed on you, ” - she chuckles from the relief before quickly adding - “ The healers are a little caught up with all the wounded, but I have a tent over this way. Maybe we can cope ourselves… or at least clean you up a bit. Come on, it’s not far.”
Ethel puts her hand on his back, guiding Roland along, just to be safe and make sure she can catch him if he trips or stumbles.
“ So what really happened? How did you make it out?”
He winces in pain but accepts her hug, her soft kisses; lean’t against her in a minuscule behavior in the truest relief. His eyes close, and threaten to give ‘way to actual tears.
The steady, heavy throb in his left arm is far too great to ignore, and he thanks every holy divinity he can think of that hast granted his continuing ability to Walk. He smiles tiredly, bruised. “I had given leave to be a decoy,” Roland shares. “And had been susceptible to interrogation, unfortunately.
“I do not like Templars,” says Roland; surprisingly soft and fiercely. “I hath tried, and I cannot like them. I cannot enjoy their vows, their personal bigotries, and their lack of empathy for and ‘twards their charges. I hath suffered too much from them, and by them today, and my arm is broken.” He exhales shortly; limping, wincing, swollen in red marks.
Roland glances at her suddenly; quickly, effectively, study’ng her earthly body and checking for invisible wounds. “Art thou hurt? Hast thou been protected, kept safe?”
" You know, you really shouldn't be here... Do you know? " - the question comes as a feminine silhouette steps out from the darkness. Tall but not too tall, dressed in a dark elegant dress. Her colours seem faded, all but her eyes - seemingly the one bright thing about her. Yet even their tone remains uncertain. Blue? Turquoise? Cayan? Purple? Red?.... They seem to change depending on the light or perhaps the point of view of the perceiving party... Or rather their expectations.
The scholar blinked surprised at the person approaching him. He had been busy admiring the architecture of this temple and completely forgotten his surroundings over this. Bowing his head clumsily, he laughed a littel self-reproaching.
“Ah my apologies, I did not mean to cause any stir in this places routine. I was merely drawn by the beauty of this building... oh and their inhabitants, of course.”
Suddenly thinking of something, he fumbled at his belt, until he had freed a tattered notebook. “Why, just all these beautiful cats alone! I have never before seen such a wide array of patterns in one place”, flipping through the pages, he held the book up for the lady to see various sketches, he has presumably made of all the cats, he had found in the temple, “And the shadowes”, he added with a high pitch of excitement, as he flipped to a page, that mostly contained various dark swirls, drawn with graphite, “Oh the shadows here are truly fascinating, woudln’t you agree?”
