#magistheir

[anecdotist]

it’s really funny but i did actually give dorian a tattoo when i made him in my datv run, but because of the location, literally no one will see it unless he’s bareass naked

[howetragic]

@magistheir and Nathaniel aren't getting off on the best foot I was just being polite. And I will never make that mistake again, thank you so much.

     “I can only hope that is sincere,” Nathaniel says, nose crinkling at the idea that this is the man’s idea of being polite. 

He certainly has made himself at home there in the library of Vigil’s Keep, books piled on a table that he appears to have claimed as his desk, writings scattered all over, ink blotted here and there against the vibrant wood. Nathaniel frowns as he looks over it all. 

The Grey Wardens - those Joined, at least - have gone north to escape the lilting, haunting melody of the Calling that they now know is false. Nathaniel was brought “home” by the network of eluvians at Morrigan’s disposal, Inara… in need of support, after the Grey Wardens had gone to Orlais to support the Inquisition’s cause and been ground to near-nothing after a series of struggles against Marquise Bouffon.

And he came to give that support, only to find her and this man in Vigil’s Keep.

      “You are in my Keep,” he informs the mage. “In my home. I must ask you to show some decorum, regardless of your friendship with the former Warden-Commander.”

[rookfang-a]

A HEALER HAS Laika's arm pinned away from her.  They work tirelessly, cleaning the last of many nasty cuts, and in blissful silence.  Now, to be sure, Laika had accepted the danger of the mission - infiltrating any Venatori controlled zone was the kind of fatal task best avoided.  That she came back almost shredded to ribbons was not surprising.  Victory was achieved, and so, she doesn't bitch and moan, when cleaning the wounds leaves a lingering, burning feeling all across her skin.

The healer finishes, walking off, and leaving Laika to her lonesome.

So, Laika slumps in front of the fire, sitting on the floor.  She is bandaged from the middle of her forearm all the way up to her clavicle.  At least, she thinks, no one else is here. 

as if on cue, @magistheir says, "I can't believe I'm the one saying this but--are you, perhaps, being too reckless?"

Too quickly, she turns about to see Dorian, standing in the door frame.  The lights in the pawnshop are still low, the few candles lit for late night comings and goings, so she only sees him in blurred silhouette.  Laika winces, the sudden pull at new, raw stitches a decidedly bad idea.

The sound continues into obstinate accusations.  “ Did Tarquin put you up to this?  Or Neve? ”  It's a bit childish, the rolled eyes and refusal to accept Dorian's rightful worry.  “ I promise you, I'm taking all the precautions I can. ” Liar. “ There's just so much to do, not enough time to do it in. ”

[theharellan]

from @magistheir : There’s a small package of sweets left on his desk—some cookies, small cakes, and a rather indulgent chocolate bar. Atop is a hastily scribbled note in a familiar slanted script: Sugar can energize more than tea. Try being happy for once.

He does not see them until he is trying to find something else, disturbing the paperweights that hold down his various notes and studies until he sees some he does not recognise. The tin shines as he lifts it, something unseen rolling inside. Nails dig under the lid and pry it open, revealing the note and the gifts within.

Before he has a chance to read it, he's already breaking a biscuit in his mouth.

It would easy to resist the order on matter or principle (he had never heard an order he could not call into question), but as the crumbs melt upon his tongue he finds his will fading quickly.

Several lifetimes have taught Solas that there is more to happiness than trying and treats, but he will indulge the attempt, in the vain hope that this time will end differently.

@magistheir

[anecdotist]

@keepslore asked: haven't you ever done anything crazy for love? // for dorian :) some ask meme i don't remember / meme tag

His hands freeze in the middle of --something. He was doing something before this walloped him outside the head. One injured, zero survivors, the white flag of surrender is waving frantically. The time for witty answers to deflect, to divert attention literally anywhere else is now, right now, and the only thing Dorian can think of is--

Skin sweet as honey. Hair just begging for fingers to be run through it. A throat he wanted to make a meal of--and did. Many, many times.

They'd actually held hands once. In bed, sure, but he actually can't think of another time he'd done that. Even as a child, it was always being guided by hovering hands over his shoulders, the back of his head, some servant walking in front of him.

Fuck the Inquisitor. Fuck his memories. Fuck fucking fuck fuck.

"I got a tattoo, once." That is--not what he wants to say, but it's also been too long for him to not say something at least somewhat answering the question while not saying something fluffy and soft and obscenely vulnerable. "Unfortunately, I think Solas' head will explode if I show you."

A pause long enough for a Cheshire grin and a mischievous twirl of his mustache.

"On second thought--how comfortable are you with the naked male form?"

[anecdotist]

not the pc calling dorian brave probably being the first time anyone has framed his actions in any sort of positive light

[anecdotist]

also, since i'm thinking about it--one thing i absolutely adore about datv is showing different ways people cast magic, especially when watching bellara, neve, and emmrich.

dorian's casting, when he doesn't need a foci or staff, looks like he's plucking and pulling at imaginary strings and strands. and he kind of is--for him, magic is like manipulating the physics of the world around him. if he's doing something delicate, his fingers might twitch and curl around tiny little strings. if he's doing something bigger, he might pull and yank with his hands, making movements like he's pulling on a rope or cracking a whip. if he's concentrating energy between his hands, it'll look like that string game, his fingers and hands pulling and pushing bits of the fade together to do what he wants.

there is, of course a suitable amount of wrist flicks and hand flourishes to make it all dazzle as well. he's also put a lot of energy into learning how to cast subtly as well, with one hand and even just a few fingers or a casual gesture. those are spells he's practiced a lot, though, so it's not a wide range of spells (unlocking doors, setting something on fire (small), and an electric shock powerful enough to make most let go come to mind).

[anecdotist]

i feel like a lot of people cast dorian in the "damsel in distress" role in fic and fandom. it's entirely counter to his introduction to us, where he accompanies the herald into the dark future and very quickly says, "don't worry, i'll protect you." it would be more accurate, considering both dorian's personality and status in society, to cast him in a "knight in shining armor" trope, and in this essay i will--