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Oh, a pinned post??

About Mnemo. I’m in my 30s, living in a state that went 70% red in this last election (gag) and live with my wife and our 3 cats, Persephone, Circe, and Pandora.

I’ve been hovering around tumblr for a few years. I kind of first dropped into the Supernatural fandom, quickly learned a lesson about posting hate in a tag, and decided that wasn’t for me. Got really into Dragon Age after playing DAI, but dove into the fandom after playing DA2. Most of my mutuals and friends I’ve made are in this fandom and I’m really glad most are still around. I’m very much about having a good time in this sandbox and making a space where others can have as much fun. I’m a weirdo who loves mermaids and likes to enable other artists and writers to just have a blast and make the weirdest, horniest things.

I’ve been the mod of @teamblueandangry, ran a few events centered on Anders and Fenris and their ships. I’m multishipping trash.

I briefly had a blog for Dragon Age Weird Shit, which is the name of the Discord I started to encourage writers and artists to do really strange things. That Discord is still around and I’m open to having people join again. Once we get the rules sorted out again.

I’m a big fan of fandom positivity, I’m to the point that I don’t feel the need to talk about what I hate anymore... unless it’s the Chantry... or Elthina... or assholes in fandom that decide they need to be the authority on meta or what is deemed acceptable. The blacklist and block button are your friends.

Welp, if you’re interested in anything I’ve written, I’ve put links under the cut. If you want anything specific to my meanderings, my tag is mnemospeaks. If you want to scroll my writing, it’s mnemowrites. If you like spotify playlists, mnemomixtapes. i think my podfics are still under mnemorecords, and I might get back to those one day. My wife and I were also writing an original piece based on Urban Shadows that is on my ao3 as well, called Orchid.

Anywho, I’m so happy to still see people really active here in the DA2 fandom and hope to make a lot of new friends and mutuals!

#mnemospeaks #mnemowrites #pinned post #hopefully the links aren't broken

Orchid

Vol. 1: Overture

By Dawn Saas and Nic Frankenberry

Urban Shadows by Andrew Medeiros and Mark Diaz Truman

Microscope by Ben Robbins

Here it is! This is the prologue of the story my partner and I have been working on for the past few months. We’re really in love with the characters and the world we’ve created and hopefully they find an audience that loves them just as much as we do.

#mnemospeaks #mnemowrites #orchid #urban fantasy #queer lit #we used a hacked version of microscope to build our world and its history #and urban shadows is the game we're playing and gm-ing together #to make sure our story goes big #did i mention it was gonna be hella queer?#because it is

Orchid

Chapter 2 - Not Quite Midnight in the Jardin of Arsene and Virgil

By Dawn Saas and Nic Frankenberry

Content Warning: Depictions of attempted abduction, drug use, and graphic violence.

Stuttering percussion and icy synths reverberated across the surging dance floor, and Jardin‘s swelling patronage was being swept up in the triphop’s intoxicating physicality. It was foreplay, and every dancer measured their calculations.

The shuffling, arrhythmic beats pulsing through the bar sent waves of color that folded in on themselves and back out, unfurling and blooming, each permutation an aftershock of the endless reflections.

From her high bar stool, just off the disco’s center, on a little diamond of the labyrinthine, elevated walkway, Virgil scanned the club for familiar faces.

Continue (X) - From the beginning (X)

#mnemospeaks #mnemowrites #orchid #urban fantasy #queer lit #original fiction #say hello to my bb Virgil

Karl pored over the tomes spread out along the table. Once the Rite was reversed, and the months of recovery following had passed, Karl needed something to keep busy. Sure, he could help Anders with patients in the infirmary, but with no magic he could only help so much. He could continue training with Fenris, but now he was out often with the young Inquisitor. More often, he found himself entertaining Miriam, but she seemed to love Varric's stories than his own.

Karl needed a purpose. Some way to help the mages with all they had lost, all he and Anders had lost. The Circles kept meticulous records of every mage in their custody. Births, deaths, “admissions”, transfers. If a Circle was annulled, their previous records were sealed and sent to the White Spire.

With permission from Trevelyan, he sent out Inquisition scouts to the fallen Circles to find these records. He wanted to put the pieces of so many lives back together. Reunite families that were torn apart. Children that were taken…

The tome he searched today came in that morning. The Circle of his own Origin, the Ferelden Circle. With this book, he didn't start from the beginning as the others, he looked specifically for--

His finger trailed the name that he had almost forgotten, beside it written the name he is still called to this day: Anders.

Live birth, female. Placed with a devout family in Ostwick. Trevelyan, Beryan.

Karl held his breath as he scrambled for the Ostwick tome, one of the first they found. The name couldn't be a coincidence but he had to see it for himself.

Bookmarked for the Inquisitor herself and easily found, the admission date for Beryan. Seven years after her birth. The Trevelyans had sent her to the Circle.

He didn't try to suppress the emotions that poured out.

“Zoe.”

#kanders #fenkanders #mnemowrites #here #thats all ive got in me tonight #i tried #hi the inquisitor is anders bb #and karl's bb too #ill explain later #mnemo goes on hiatus

Inheritance

There's always been a part of me that's resented the fact that I inherited everything of his except his healing.

Every day I look in the mirror, I see him. Sure, my eyes are blue like Mama, but they say they look more like his blue.. the blue of the spirit I never got to meet.

My nose is long, with a forehead to match. Strong jaw and strong frame...Ander stock, they tell me. I’ll never be as tall as him, but both Mama and Papa look up to me...just a bit.

Before my brothers both manifested, I felt a small kinship with him, but I don't think my magic has ever been anything but... convenient. Eventually, they asked Aunt Merrill to spend time with me, as entropy seemed to be the opposite of everything that possessed my father's body.

They never asked, but it was always silently assumed that I’d know when a sleep spell would help calm my brothers for an afternoon.When Mama's mabari, Ginger, was too old to run across the fields anymore, she taught me how to change it to a spell where she wouldn't wake up again.

I think that's what made everything so much more difficult and easier all at once. Easier for them, difficult for me. When the sickness that ravaged his body slowly stole away his ability to heal..there was nothing I could do. Panacea didn't seep from my fingers… but I could numb the pain. Use magic that would cause horror to simply cause a more pleasant hallucination.

It made it easier when Mama could talk to him when he didn't seem to be in pain. She felt like she was failing...daggers only caused pain you see… and when it got worse…

Papa didn't fare much better. Even though he could pull the fade through his body, he could only clear physical blockages.

Both of them could only help him in ways that would cause him more pain before he left this world, and neither could bear to do it.

They didn't ask, but it was silently assumed that I would catch on.

I curled up on my father's sickbed that night. He knew that my mana was straining to keep up with the pain that plagued him. He...he was so… so proud of me, he said. That the last person he wanted to burden with his life was his child. And then he asked, I remembered my lessons well.

And now I'm here. Mama is on her knees, holding his hand, tears haven't stopped. Papa has his arms around Caleb, who is clutching a small pillow. Braeden is standing beside me, with the staff he inherited.

Meeting my mother's eyes, she nods and pulls away and moved to hold Braeden’s free hand.

I lift my father's staff to light his own pyre, and I can only hope that I can carry on his light now that he's gone.

#mnemospeaks #mnemowrites #liesel hawke #fenhanders #f!hawke #anders #fenris #major character death #harm to anders #first person pov

Warmth

Dying was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Well, he technically wasn't dead, but he certainly had an expiration date now; and it wasn't the "best", not at first.

Memories were hazy. His sister yelling with tears in her eyes, held back by a blaze of light. Her insufferable tag along, usually so smug when addressing him, looking horrified as he pleaded with...a very snooty moustache.

It was a rebirth, back into the world hungry as fuck in more ways than one. In this world, he was the only Hawke, and no one gave a shit about it. And though his cousin cast a large shadow over Vigil's Keep, at least everyone stood beneath it willingly.

When he returned to Kirkwall with one of his brothers, he didn't expect it to be on fire. He fought alongside his sisters and their friends to defend their lives and what was left of the city.

And when the battle was over, they didn't look to her for guidance. While she patched up her mage, a hand covered in precise cuts took his own and he marshalled their crew out of the Free Marches.

Miles and cities away, the group splintered, with all that's left currently crowded together in a cave not far from the Brecilian forest. He sat shoulder to shoulder with his Warden brother, his sister was fast asleep against the man's chest, and a pointed ear tickled his chin when he tightened his embrace around the elf in his own lap. This little family pulled together by blood, choice, and circumstance that kept him warm in more ways than one.

#mnemospeaks #mnemowrites #day 3 #warmth #carver hawke #i know these are all very shorr #very vague #and i originally had this more carver x merrill centric #but ill leave that for another day

Barefoot

Two pairs of bare feet slide into the crisp, clear stream. Both relatively pale and narrow, the cool water smoothing away the creases in their skin from sweat-soaked leather of their boots.

"Maker, that feels positively sinful."

The smaller pair's toes spread and wiggle in the current. They're callused in all the right places that a rouge's nimble footwork favors. A lone, deep scar splits between two largest toes on the right; a physical reminder of a retreat on a battleground at Ostegar, borne from a misstep on a fallen weapon while pulling a distraught soldier away from a lost cause.

"Are your feet still aching more than normal? Between that and your back-"

The larger pair of feet, which had been idly weaving figure-eights, ran its toes along the sole of the smaller set. Skin stretched too thin made every last bone visible. A few of the toes set at an unnatural angle; a punishment for feet that decided to run too far, too often.

"There are letters. The dwarf speaks in riddles, and the Warden seems panicked."

A third pair of feet dips into the stream. They are oddly bereft of the kinds of scars that adorn their companions' despite the miles and lives travelled. Pale toes start to trace the silver lines embedded so prettily in cool brown skin, reassurance that the pain is only a memory, that they are a piece of the whole and not simply their sole purpose.

"They have Karl?!-"

"The Wardens are missing in Orlais?!-"

Lyrium-lined feet grip the stones in the bed of the stream as they suddenly find themselves alone.

#mnemospeaks #mnemowrites #day 2 #barefoot #fenhanders #inktober

Searching

Scouting reports, piled high and dog-eared, his Cassandra's slumped form and she pushed a pawn across the table. Varric may have been full of fanciful tales, but the whole evening turned into a mental exercise in wading through bullshit; she was still no closer to finding the Champion than before interrogating the dwarf.

She picked up another pawn and placed it near Amaranthine. Leliana had sent out ravens to search for the brother and found most of the order had abandoned the Keep.

The sister, even harder to pin down. While witnesses claimed to have seen her escape with the Champion after fleeing the Circle and the ensuing battle, her trail ended outside the gates of Kirkwall.

With a snort of disgust, she flicked the pawn across the table and buried her face in her arms. The conclave was only a week away, and looking certain to be without a figurehead for the Divine to attempt to unite the mages and Templars.

She was running out of time. The strategy needed to change. How do you catch a Hawke?

A chair beside her scraped along the wooden floor as a tranquil man took a seat at the table and set about picking up the pawns in disarray.

Cassandra blinked at the man and realized that the only way to catch a Hawke is by laying a trap for its mate.

She had ravens to send.

#mnemowrites #hey #i had a little drabble before bd #it's literally nothing #but its an attempt to do some sort of prompt list #we'll see how it strings together #if at all #day one #warmth #inktober

Oh, a pinned post??

About Mnemo. I’m in my 30s, living in a state that went 70% red in this last election (gag) and live with my wife and our 3 cats, Persephone, Circe, and Pandora.

I’ve been the mod of @teamblueandangry, ran a few events centered on Anders and Fenris and their ships. I’m multishipping trash.

Anywho, I’m so happy to still see people really active here in the DA2 fandom and hope to make a lot of new friends and mutuals!

#mnemospeaks #mnemowrites #pinned post #hopefully the links aren't broken

#mnemowrites

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