#s.warden

[icy-warden]

Witch Hunt replay - Vergil looks pretty in blues <3

I haven't opened the game for so long, I forgot how Vergil sounds in game - guess, which voice set does he have there? xD

[icylook]

Describe Your OC Aesthetic Builder Vergil Surana

Template by lavellanpls

[icy-warden]

[icy-warden]

@smolpocketmonstercoffee (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Drabble for Shrieker Witch!Aether & Shapeshifter Cat!Vergil AU (WTNC setting)

The black cat uncurled slowly, stretching his back and sat up on the windowsill.

He glanced at the street, further down the path, leading to the small house he was in.

It was so bright outside. Pupils in his amber eyes turned into thin slits in mere moments.

For few minutes, he was sitting still, staring out of the window, nearly without blinking. His tail flicked in subtle annoyance, ears twitching delicately.

The only sounds he could hear were the ones usually made in an empty house.

Creak of wood on the floors, rustle of curtains near slightly opened window, gentle swish of herbs - bundles of them hung neatly to dry and for quick use above Aether's workspace.

The cat heard something more then, unhurriedly turning his head from the window, eyes slightly narrowing.

A sound not fitting.

And as soon as he focused on hearing it, the noise stopped. Then, after a short pause, it was there again.

A gentle scribble of very small claws.  

Looks like a mice problem has returned. Or it could be a rat.

The black cat blinked lazily and yawned. He will take care of it.

But later.

In one elegant move he leaped from the windowsill onto the floor, his paws softly touching the ground. He took few more steps towards the wardrobe and between heartbeats, shifted.

Instead of a black cat, there was standing a tall, lithe build man, his skin pale.

A slight grimace marred his face, amber eyes calculating.

The shift still wasn't as it should be. The pain of transformation lingered in his joints and bones for longer than it usually would. Also, it took seconds too long.

He sighed, opening the wardrobe and looking at clothes.

His next visit to the well should be last, he thought absently, choosing an outfit Aether liked seeing him in.

But, as his research had shown, the last well was far away, few days of travel in one direction. Plus, the time he would have to spend at the well, draining it's power to help him stabilize his magical core.

One more time.

He hoped it would be the last time he will have to leave Aether for so long.

Vergil looked at the small mirror on wardrobe's door, finishing putting the clothes on.

He was satisfied with the result, but then his mind turned again to approaching the topic of his soon travel with Aether.

The Shriek didn't take to separation so well last time.

The salty smell of tears and misery, greeting Vergil upon his return. Aether probably thought he abandoned him, spiralling down into worry and grief.

Vergil let out a small huff at the thought, his chest feeling a little too tight at the memory of sadness and relief oozing from the witch. And then, long hours of making sure the other is there.

As he would willingly leave him at this point.

There was too much happening between them, too many things tying Vergil to Aether.

Not bothering to tie his long black hair, he made his way to the main doors, his moves silent and full of subtle feline grace. He paused for a moment, a shadow of hesitation passing over his face.

Then, his features smoothed into more neutral expression, fists uncurled. And he opened the doors, stepping outside.

Onto the bright path.

He had a certain witch to spot on the market, patrolling Hunters be damned.

[icy-warden]

Submit.

He suddenly saw red hearing it, said in that superior uppity way only a chantry templar is capable of.

Like it is self-explanatory. Clear.

Rylock and the warehouse blurred out, with his breath caught uncomfortably in his chest. He barely repressed the full body shudder, fingers curling on the hilt of his dagger.

“Submit, mage.”

Sneered straight to his face, the heavy gauntlet crushing his throat.

“I've been watching you closely, mage. No one will see. Submit.”

The smell of dust and oil on metal. His air supply cut out.

“You're helpless like this. All of you are.”

Black spots dancing, his vision swimming.

“Don't make it so hard on you. Submit.”

He caught himself before the sway was too strong, shifting his feet. In the present, the warehouse. Rylock's still rambling, Anders arguing, Nathaniel the silent pillar at his back, Oghren muttering, impatient, beside him. And... and then what?

The clear smell of crystalized water, of razor sharp ice slashing, piercing across the sneering face, the crimson of blood and its repulsive stench, not his screams, but his pain of broken bones, the flash of-

The choked off half laugh, half sob stopped the loud voices, all eyes on him. He shook his head, abandoning the last dregs of the memory. Clearing his throat (unscathed, safe), facing the templar before him, without the trace of fright.

The quiet, “I don't think we understand each other. This one,” the light tilt of his head at Anders, “is a Grey Warden.”

Eyes boring into hers, unflinchingly. Subtle shifting of his companions behind him.

“And I take care of the people under my command, as I see fit. Your jurisdiction ended with your arrival to the Keep.”

Armors clinking, the air changing noticeably. The undeniable smell of powdered lyrium. His lips in a disturbing smirk, fingers on his daggers holding confidently, ready.

“It is your last warning.” A smile with too much teeth. “Otherwise, I'll take steps to defend my charge.”

The enraged roar of the templar commander as his only answer.

[icy-warden]

“Delicate mage flower” (◡‿◡✿)

[icy-warden]

When Zevran visited Vigil’s Keep for the first time, he did not use main gate. And thanks to that, Nathaniel proved he’s an excellent archer and makes a decent team with Velanna. (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

(chaotic ramble under the cut)

I have this headcanon:

Where Vergil's in his room at the Keep, chilling after hard day, he's bathed and is splayed comfortably on his favourite sofa, goblet of wine in one hand, reading material in the other.

His hair are loose, he's wearing his night attire (a yukata version of this beautiful kimono, and yes, he'd wear the white with a stunning pattern like this as his “nightgown”, thrown over some loose black shirt and pants under).

Then, there's some kind of commotion and an urgent knocking to the door, which he'd like to ignore, 'cause it's his free time for fuc*s sake, and Nathaniel's in charge when he's not available (and last he checked, nothing's burning).

But whoever's on the other side is persistent, so he just rolls his eyes, stands up with a groaned curse and throws down his book, wine goblet still in his hand and strides with irritation to the door.

Which he opens rather abtruply, and the person collapses at his feet with a shout (some random, terrified servant, who knows about the rule to not disturb the Commander if he said so).

And he just stands there, looking down at them with the sort of amused exasperation at their misfortune, but also slightly pissed off, but is only fuming inside.

When they scramble to get up, the servant gets to see how exactly Commander looks in nightclothes and are (more than) a little stunned by the view, speechless until the man growls ‘What is it’, at which they jump (and is there a bit colder now?) and utter the messy response about the intruder, who's been spotted not so long ago in the Keep, when scaling a wall near his rooms, and that he's been subdued and Warden Howe sent for the Commander to decide what to do with him, as he tells he knows the Commander?

At which Vergil huffs with amusement, drinks the rest of his wine in one go and passes over the goblet to the servant, as he hurries his steps down the hall, the long white robe fluttering after him like some kind of wings.

When he arrives to the courtyard, there're some guards, his seneschal, frowning Nathaniel, laughing Sigrun, doubling over just beside red faced Vellana, who's vines are holding someone by their arms, in rather uncomfortable way.

One sweep of the scene and everything's clear.

‘I thought I said use the main entrance’ he says, stepping closer to the crowd at which Nathaniel just asks ‘so you actually know this man? He kept saying that he's here for a visit, but’ and he's interrupted by a loud ‘My Warden! Please tell this woman that I do need the blood in my hands to be of use to you in the future! This bondage session is too rough for my delicate skin’ Sigrun just chortles harder, Velanna splutters, Vergil shakes his head with mild smile, saying that front gates do exist for a reason, Zevran replying that he was just testing the guards vigilance and after Vergil stops being a bit mischievous, asks Velanna to cancel the spell and there are proper introductions.

(Now, if I would write the scene properly.)

[icy-warden]

🏠 💐 🎨 :D for V

🏠 - What does their living space look like?Vergil’s chambers at Vigil’s Keep are his office and private rooms - wood (cherry, oak), stone, dark&rich colours of fabrics. Organized. Medium natural light (windows) but a lot of candles. Solid looking oak desk, lot of papers in neat piles, one wall goes for the book shelves (private library with comfy looking sofa). Some furs on the floor. Everything has its place - books and scrolls are on respective shelves, artefacts and trinkets are segregated, few potted plants someone takes care of, work and private space are clearly separated (big, four-poster bed complete with drapes and a canopy, wardrobe, chests, mirror in ornamental golden frame, vanity desk with another mirror and a lot of small jars and bottles, bathroom).💐 - Favorite type of flowerLotus🎨 - Artistic abilityHis voice isn’t completely off key when he humms something.