#thedraisms

[eritvita]

continued from x ;

@thedraisms

He sits with her, the Roland of the many Sages, and kicks his feet off the cliffside like an exuberant child; ready to start the Day’s adventures, and fly off into the clouds to be with his Sun the Father.

“I understand thee,” says he. “More oft than Most. The entirety of my Life hast been the seeker of Light, the peruser of the Mother, and the ethereal tonal Note of something Good, hidden upon all of us. The trick,” offers Roland, and he turns to her and smiles a long Song of eternal familiarity.

“---is to find a hobby. A person; a place! Love or art or the struck’d chord of a musical instrument; the heartstrings, the reverberation of an wise owl’s hoot. Thou hast one?” asks he; enthralled, yea, by his present company.

[bloodimagery]

✤ : lacing your fingers into theirs and holding their hands

touch prompts | accepting | ask

✤ : lacing Thedra’s fingers into Nug’s and holding hands

It seemed like the veil got thinner everywhere they went. Vhennug knew better than to ask if Thedra was okay every time the mark flashed and pulled at the Fade, but he felt the need to. 

“Is it getting any easier to close the rifts?” He asked, trying to keep his distance. Thedra shrugs; the fade shifts around her. 

“Not easier,” she sighs. Nug can’t even imagine how few words she has to describe the feeling. “It’s like...” she weaves her fingers together, peering at Nug through the gaps, then slowly folds them to press her palms flat. “Something like that?”

Nug smiles at her fondly. He lifts a hand to prod at her clenched fists, gently at first.

“The Calling is a bit like this,” he starts weaselling his fingers between hers, trying to pull her hands apart. He considers it a success when Thedra laughs along with him. She rolls her hands apart and catches Nug’s in a fluid motion, twining her fingers through his and smiling brightly. 

“Well, this is the Inquisition.” She makes a face, as if immediately regretting her words. Their hands drop, still twined, and swing between them. When they settle, Nug strokes a thumb along the back of her hand and offers a nod. 

[eritvita]

like’d from x ;

@thedraisms

As is par the course ‘pon his natural Stature, Roland has inserted himself into the scouting parties and Inquisitive Outlook of those becoming of the ethereal Wilds. He peeks o’er a large boulder--- Mother Nature’s own sense of showmanship--- across the yawning fields and dead-center upon a fizzling, crackling, angry void of green and opened Worlds, waiting to be discovered, and thus activated.

His eyes narrow, and he says clearly, “I am tempted to run forth.” And he snorts at his own base Pride! He leans back on his heels, struck like a predator in the greenbush: remaining, only, because the Inquisitor’s group has not yet moved Forward.

“Dost thou have a Plan?” he asks her, and the tips of Roland’s ears twitch by the frission of kinetic energy, so close to the opened maw of this Ancient spirituality, like torn thread. Abandon all hope, ye whom feel the need, bah!

[tenaciousheart]

a letter from your OC to their love interest for Revka

OC Codex Prompts

Status: Always accepting

For as old as the parchment is it is in impeccable shape, its owner clearly having gone to great lengths to keep it intact. The only signs of wear can be found along its folds, the creases weakened from countless readings. Whoever it belongs to (there is no addressee given, or signature from its sender) must hold it dear.

It’s done. Left the city a fortnight ago. Our old friend agreed to buy me as much time as he could. He wishes us well, and you luck, but claims you won’t need it. I hope he’s right.

Picked my parcel up as well with no trouble. Shouldn’t go missed until we’re well past the Hinterlands. Wasn’t keen on it at first. Wanted to hold out and bring others with us when things went to shite, just like I said he would. I talked sense into him. Don’t like the idea of leaving them either, but it’ll be our necks along with them if we wait.

Already going to be close. Can feel things starting to come loose, hearing more and more whispers about what happened in Kirkwall. Seems like the common folk are talking about it as much as the soldiers. Like it’s already started. Maybe by the time you read this it will have. Can’t tell you how much I hope that isn’t the case.  

Should make it past Redcliffe within the week. I’ll send word when we do. Won’t be safe to write after that, too much chance they’ll follow the birds. You know where we’ll be afterward. I’ll be waiting for you there.

Please. Get out. First boat that’ll take you out of that place. Know I might as well be asking you to bring me the damned Golden Throne with what’s gone wrong. But I need you here. If the world is dead set on tearing itself apart again I won’t lose you to it. I can’t.

I love you.

[tenaciousheart]

your OC overheard while drunk for Ceral

OC Codex Prompts

Status: Always accepting

The Herald’s Rest is full to bursting this evening, every seat taken and the rafters ringing with the dozens of voices speaking over one another. The loudest by far comes from a table clear in the middle of the chaos, its owner’s enthusiasm cutting through the din as he emphasizes his point with a sloshing mug of ale.

“No, no see! ’S mor’ than tha’. Think her as the ‘quisitor’s somethin’? Well… it is. But ‘sides that! You ever watch her toss spells ‘round? Mi-migh’ swell be dancin’. It is dancin’! Looks so natural, like ’s the easiest thing in the world. Like all she’s gotta do is breathe it out. I mean- I 'spose tha’s sorta how it is for all mages. Magic breathin’, draw it in draw it out. But how she does it, and the spirits, an’- she’d’ve drove Irving batty. ’S brilliant!”

“An’ the stories she’s got! 'Bout her clan, an’ the ruins, an’ gods, an’ just - you gotta let her tell you, you gotta. Not doin’ justice to them, no chance of it.”

“Just - the best. She’s the best. Tell her I said it! Yes! Do it! ’S gonna make her smile, know it will. Or giggle. Or both. You gotta see her smile, ’s the prettiest, sweetest, lovliest, softest, cutest, warmest, happiest thing.”

He gives a heavy sigh.

“Maker’s breath I love her.”

[mercysought]

“ i will never leave Abel. it will be this , always, for as long as you will let me. “ ( for Abel, obviously )

the song of achilles meme( ACCEPTING ) - @thedraisms

Abel watches her and there is something that he cannot quite name over his lips, over his tongue: something that even if he knew how to translate into words he would not. It was a mix of uneasiness and discomfort, hesitance; as veiny hands move to the side of the armour that had been torn to shreds long before he and the elven woman had met. Theneras, though Abel knew now that she had many other names that he could never hope to really be able to pronounce without butchering it beyond recognition, had helped him more than anyone else had shown themselves willing. In the state that he was in, this... middle of everything and nothing at all, he didn’t understand why someone like her continued to come back to speak to him or why she had allowed him to be close. Abel wondered many things; the first being how did she know quite so much and how she could do all the things that she did. It confused it and made him fear her in a way that he had never felt towards any other mage. 

It was odd, odd to know that he should feel a very human fear and yet feel only peace and calm emanating from her. How terrifying must it be to have so much power at her fingertips, to think of the consequences of what to use it would cause. And to think that she would waste his time with him. Dead. Dead. Dead but not quite, not in the way that he had learned. He wasn’t sure what the road beyond death took, but he was now starting to realise that it would not lead to the Maker’s side and that frightened him ever more. And so he wished, he wished that she stayed because in all of this she alone seemed to have the answers that no one else seemed capable or willing to answer.

Still, Abel was not selfish. He tried not to be. Nor was he foolish. He had done many bad things in his life and he would not deny him, he would not deny what tradition had demanded of him; the pain that he had caused to her people and that perhaps (surely) she didn’t know. No one could be quite so forgiving, regardless of warmth. If felt wrong and the guilt ate up on him, to know what he had done, never attempted once to remedy despite of power at his fingertips. To have so much power and refuse to use it; to think of the consequences that such inaction had. Icy blue eyes move down to his own hands and he feels himself retracting from the conversation. Perhaps it was only fair, perhaps only right.

   “I would not blame you if you left.” he speaks with a firmness that he doesn’t feel. Guilt seems to make his mouth dry, throat struggling and eyes heavy away from her rich skin and warm brown eyes. His fists close and open. Closing once again. To have her speak such words and to have them sound so genuine should perhaps make someone worthy of them feel comfort, happy. In his ears they sounded like a pouring of guilt, his shoulders slumping forward as it falls over bruised skin “It is... actually... what would be fair of you to do.” Abel glances up seeking her face for a second, holding it until he could, until he felt he could “I can find a way to finish what I started alone.”

[tenaciousheart]

an overheard conversation about your OC for Revka

OC Codex Prompts

Status: Always accepting

The crack in the door to the barracks is so slim there is barely room enough for a sliver of candlelight to pass through. It is not enough, however, to keep the voices within concealed. Partly muffled by the woodwork, the conversation is still easily heard by any passing ear curious enough to press in.

Voice 1: It is an insult. A gross waste of the Order’s time and means. How does no one else see this?

Voice 2: ’S already decided on, Hendrik. See your orders through an’ be done with it. Won’ do you no good stirrin’ trouble.

Voice 1: And what of the elf? If nothing else, she is the one to blame for whatever trouble comes of this. There is no reason the Knight Commander should bend his will for the sake of one kni- the likes of her.

Voice 2: Wardens get what they want. Treaties say so. Won’ see that changin’ soon.

Voice 1: In times of Blight! It has been nearly a year now, there is no-

Voice 3: Maker’s Breath, let it go would you? Girl killed off an Archdemon and cleared the filth out of the tower. She’s got Greagoir on the hook for whatever she damned well wants.

Voice 1: And this somehow makes it right?

Voice 3: It makes it obvious, that’s what. Be glad it’s only the mage she’s asking for and not a pile of coin. Who’s pay do you think they’d be docking first to fund it?

[soutarasyl]

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon !

HEADCANON  MEME  ( ACCEPTING )

        OOC.    i  think  ana’s  biggest  quirk  is  the  intersection  of  her  dalish  identity  and  her  ferelden  identity .   a  good  example  of  this  is  with  her  religious  beliefs ;  she  still  feels  a  strong  kinship  with  the  dalish ,  so  even  after  years  in  the  circle  she  offers  the occasional  prayer  to  one  of  the  creators .   however ,  she  believes  in  the  maker  and  andraste  as  well .  this  latter  belief  only  expands  after  her  visit  to  the  temple  of  sacred  ashes .   by  the  time  of  the  inquisition ,  ana  has  settled  into  her  own  unique  faith ,  where  she  worships  the  maker  but  sees  the  creators  as  ancient ,  incredibly  powerful  spirits  that  watched  over  the  elven  people  during  the  time  of  arlathan .

       religion  is  not  the  only  place  where  she  identifies  as  both  dalish  and  ferelden ,  however .   she  petitioned  to  receive  her  vallaslin  not  only  as  an  excuse  to  see  her  sister ,  but  because  she  still  saw  herself  as  a  dalish  elf .  her  clan  is  her  home ;  not  the  tower ,  not  fereldan ,  but  her  CLAN .  with  the  onset  of  the  blight ,  however ,  she  sees  herself  as  not  just  protecting  the  world  but  as  saving  her  HOMELAND :  fereldan .   this  is  especially  true  directly  after  the  blight ,  when  she  becomes  warden-commander ;  she  gladly  embraces  her  position  as  arlessa  despite  her  doubts  that  she  has  what  it  takes  to  do  well  in  the  position .  even  ten  years  after  the  blight ,  adriana  is  just  as  likely  to  introduce  herself  as  fereldan  as  she  is  to  call  herself  dalish .

       she  didn’t  have  much  time  for  hobbies  during  the  blight ,  but  she’s  good  at  sewing  and  during  the  tower  she  started  learning  needlework .  after  becoming  arlessa ,  she  picked  embroidery  back  up  in  her  spare  time  (  partially  because  she  thought  it  might  endear  her  to  the  other  nobles ,  and  partially  because  she  needed  the  stress  relief  ) .   i  think  she  likes  to  sketch  as  well ,  and  has  become  quite  proficient  at  drawing  over  the  years .  in  her  quarters  at  vigil’s  keep ,  there’s  a  drawer  full  of  drawings  she  did  of  her  friends  during  the  blight .  she  takes  them  out  and  looks  at  them  when  she  misses  her  old  companions .