The dawn will come. @thiedas - Tumblr Blog

A low - activity Dragon Age multi, written by Blythe. Find rules at @eueclid, as this blog is a sideblog to that one. MUSES BELOW THE CUT.

Affiliated with . . . @banalnas + @gwahren.

#Pinned.#Psd / border credit: Ariapsds.#Established 11/21/24.

most, not all, of my muses will be moved back to my multi @eueclid. this blog will remain up and act as an archive.

#Ooc Post.

satellitewar

this... is wholly unexpected. this is not what din anticipated when they sat across the fire today, the battle won and the enemy now dead. when din imagined this day, he pictured lengthy grief and muted conversations, low tones, deeper whispers that conceal @thiedas's true feelings on the topic. not this. this... was not how din pictured his evening. confessional. gwendolyne speaks with the weight of many hours of contemplation, like she's been considering this for ages and now has the time and the strength to add her voice to the ring. she's speaking with a thoughtfulness din recalls only in the past — the woman isn't stricken with grief or hungry for revenge, but lightened by their choices and saved by the death of her parents' killers. when she looks forward, she speaks forward. she talks about the future.

i have a new plan for my life. under his helmet, din balks. listening, he feels his chest swell and his head spin, and suddenly the pressure behind his eyes is even more painful than he ever imagined. "really?" it's incredulous. his world spins upside down and his whole body lurches at the sound. she wants to try again? try him again? "what changed your mind?" is the only thing the mandalorian can coax off his tongue; he swallows hard and readjusts his position, watching her closely. "why now?"

thiedas

Oh, this was going worse than she'd hoped. Her confidence wanes, and she clears her throat and rubs the back of her neck before continuing. This was something she used to be good at, sharing what she felt. Things changed quickly when her parents died and the wrong person was accused, but now that the right person had been caught, she'd hoped that same girl she was before could come back. But that could never happen, now could it? Too much had changed. And yet, he was still here. She feels lucky that he's even entertaining this right now.

“ I know I've said a lot to you that I can't take back, and I can't excuse it. I've lived life with you, and then without you, and with you again, and I know what it's like to lose you, and now that all this is coming to a close again... ” She makes a vague gesture, referring to this, as in their shared journey over the last weeks. Was she just talking nonsense? “ I don't want to lose you, not again. I thought that last time, maybe I could dull the pain of everything that was going wrong by shutting everyone out. I was so, so wrong, and I'm sorry. ” She clears her throat again, and glances down at the ground between her feet. “ You can tell me to shut up, by the way. ” She probably should. Gwen finally looks up from the ground at his helmet-clad face, waiting for him to respond to what she'd just thrown at him.

#Satellitewar ft. Din Djarin.#In Character: Gwendolyne Cousland.#giggles

gainscient

death had not been the end — not entirely, and aerith had known of its approach long before the blade ever struck. the last of the cetra has returned to the planet, to the fade, to the promised land — a place house shinra longed to possess for themselves. yet, it was unlike anything the ancient prophecies of the cetra foretold. spirits and demons coexist, each one yearning to slip through the rifts that wove between the realms. the threads of fate that bound her to robin suddenly tugged — him, left behind on the earthly plains while she departed so suddenly, without even a chance of a goodbye. whatever happens, don't blame yourself. had been her final words before their last parting, together, to what would be the shattered chantry, the location of what'd be robin's greatest pain.

there it was again — the tug, with a strength unlike anything she's ever felt before. it was as though their very essence had become one with the rock and stone of the fade. but that simply couldn't be, could it? they couldn't be here, none ever dared to cross such a boundary. but then again, she couldn't deny it; it was not beyond him. the current of the fade guided her steps, leading her to the source, the heart inwhich she recognizes beyond all others. and there, amidst the lifeless remains of a grotesque, twisted creature, was a hunched over figure — the appearance, unrecognisable, but the presence felt was more than just familiar.

❝ robin ...? ❞ came her soft whisper, emerald eyes fixed from a great distance, watching him in silence. what were they doing here? oh ... she understands. of course, they would choose themselves over the others, the one to stay behind for the others to escape — always the champion. she's startled as they move their hands, their gaze nearly catching hers and in a swift motion, she sought cover behind a rock. this was no place for this, not here among the muck and blood of a defeated foe.

and so she moves, her path winding in circles until they find themselves adrift among a clustering of trees, reminiscent of those once explored in their early days. she takes her place behind a solitary tree, waiting for him to catch up. the sound of his knees cracking against the ground prompts her to steal a glance — her heart tightening at the sadness etched upon their features. he looks weary, as though burdened by a weight unlike anything she's seen before. but they're here, they've been given more time, perhaps eternity does await for them both. as they lower their head, she emerges with hands neatly tucked behind her back, her steps light as she approaches, closer and closer. only then pausing, when he begins to rise and their eyes finally meet. those familiar eyes, ones she's gazed into a thousand times before — eyes that carry the weight of a love left unfinished. a soft, knowing smile paints her lips. ❝ well, well, well, looky who we have here. ❞ she says, with a gentleness to her tone paired with slight tease. ❝ hello, robin. ❞

thiedas

Is his mind messing with him? She was dead, there was no way to twist it. He saw her body, he saw Meredith take her life. The pink bow she wore was in his pocket, still, a reminder that she was gone. Never forgotten, though. As if Robin Hawke could forget Aerith Gainsborough. Her presence, one he'd felt the second he entered the fade, was growing stronger by the second until he couldn't take it anymore. It felt like she was right beside him.

When they finally raise their head, it feels like they'd been punched square in the gut. Those familiar green eyes stare at them, and Robin feels like they could collapse on the spot. His lips part to say her name — Aerith, so familiar and warm on his tongue, but nothing comes out. There are so many things he wants to say to her — he wants to apologize. He wants to ask how? He wants to tell her he loves her. He wants to tell her how much he misses her, or rather missed. He was never leaving this place, he couldn't. It was a death sentence — but if she's here, then it couldn't be bad.

After another failed attempt to speak, they do the absolute next best thing — finally, they fall into her, arms wrapped around her shoulders while they start to sob. It had been three years since he last saw her — three years since he last held her, three years since he last inhaled that sweet floral scent, three years since he last heard her voice. How did he make it so long without her? How did he survive Kirkwall's aftermath? Perhaps it was all for this. All for them to be reunited once more, in death. Or whatever this was.

“ It's you. ” He's finally able to say, voice shaky as he does so. His mind tries to tell him this isn't real, and he's inclined to believe it — but she feels solid in his grasp, her voice sounds in his ears, and above all — her signature ribbon, the one she wore until she died, the one that was perfectly folded in his pouch, wasn't in her hair. Robin pulls back from their embrace, though he's reluctant to fully let her go, and rather than letting her go, he cups her face and runs his thumb over her freckled cheek. He'd studied these freckles so often, it would be basically impossible not to after over five years together. It was usually when she was sleeping, and when he couldn't. It started out of belief that someone like her would be interested in someone as flawed as him, but then it became a ritual of sorts. He didn't believe in the Maker, but maybe he existed if Aerith Gainsborough did.

He wants to kiss her — but before he can, he has something he wants to do. Something he needs to do. Almost reluctantly, he drops his hands from her and starts to dig in his pouch, feeling for the ribbon that he stored there. The edges were slightly frayed now, mostly from the amount of times he'd rubbed his thumbs over them while thinking about her, which turned out to be quite often. “ I think you're missing something. ” Robin says, voice still wavering but not as much as before as he pulls the ribbon from his pouch, a soft smile on his lips as he presents it to her. “ Here. ” He murmurs, motioning for her to turn around — and as soon as she does, he returns the ribbon to its proper place, just at the top of her braid. “ There. ” They quietly sniff, the smile returning to their face as Aerith turns back around. “ Is it really you, Aerith? ” Robin asks, their hands moving to cup her face, dark eyes searching her face for any sign she isn't real — but it's no use. He knows she is. Finally, their face breaks out into a smile, a real one, as they lean down to kiss her — their first one in years, and as their lips touch, he feels a fresh stream of tears start to roll down his cheeks.

#Gainscient #In Character: Robin Hawke.#i wasnt crying writing this YOU were crying writing this #long post /

satellitewar

it's quite nice when he offers the bench, suggesting they sit with a gentle flourish of a gloved hand. hypatia nods, takes her seat, and watches the armor-wearing commander, dressed in heavy garb and even heavier metal plates, lowers onto the bit of bench beside her. "do you ever get annoyed with all that on?" she asks out of nowhere, studying the fur lining and heavy shoulder plates. "or... hot in that? that looks like it would be hot." has hypatia ever seen @thiedas in something other than this? the commander certainly knows how to keep up appearances — the soldiers in the inquisition army have immense respect for him because of it. "i realize we have guests coming in and out of skyhold all the time, but if you're ever... uncomfortable, cullen, you don't have to look so formal all the time." maybe this is a little cumbersome for her to say, but she means it. "i can barely stand wearing pants myself. i prefer flowy skirts that i can move in. so i can't imagine spending all day in so much armor..."

his remark about the day is sweet, and hypatia nods and gazes around the gardens like he does. "you should come out here more often. get out of the war room and go for walks — i'm sure your men would appreciate a check-in here and there." maybe she's being a little bossy, but that's what the inquisitor is, right? the boss of things here. in charge. and she says these things to cullen because she cares... and cares about him. "you could come see me more often, too. that would be... that would be very nice."

thiedas

He cannot remember the last time someone was both so caring towards him and noticed so much about him — he wears armor all the time. He tends to look uncomfortable with the constant flow of guests in and out of Skyhold — not because he didn't trust them, but rather because of how stressed he was. Stressed trying to run an army that could be worthy of Hypatia and her influence, stressed trying to ensure that a future without Corypheus was a feasible goal. Cullen turns to look at the Inquisitor, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck as he tries to figure out what to say next. Maker, she's beautiful. He still can hardly believe that she wanted to take the time to spend time with him. “ It's warm, but it's kind of the point. ” He finally says, suddenly very aware that the furs he wears are doing nothing to calm the blush in his cheeks. After this, he was going to need to take a long time to think with his face pressed against the cool surface of his desk. “ I guess I've never thought about it until now. ”

And then, she offers for them to spend more time together. What a dream! There were many who vied for the Inquisitor's attention, and yet... “ I'd like that. Spending more time together. Perhaps it would do me well to leave my desk every once in awhile, especially if I know I'll be spending time in your company. ” He pauses and clears his throat, offering her a small, albeit genuine, smile. “ Have you spent any time on the battlements? I find that the air up there is nice. ” The air is nice? Come on, Cullen, he scolds himself, but hopefully hides it well. “ You really get an appreciation for how large all this is while you're up there. ”

#Satellitewar ft. Hypatia Trevelyan.#In Character: Cullen Rutherford.#greg ellis is hashtag notmycullen #THIS is my cullen #oh SURPRISE!!!! still working on gwen and din but wanted to surprise u with smth for miss hypatia too

They knew something was different from the moment they entered the fade, but it wasn't something they could bring up. Everyone felt weird, and with the divine there, Robin didn't particularly feel like bringing up his dead girlfriend's presence. Thing was, he didn't even know if she was really there — it just felt like she was. She had a strong connection to the fade, that they knew, and maybe it was the fact he so desperately missed @gainscient that made him even do it in the first place. Hawke or Stroud, one to be left behind in the fade, left to die for the benefit of the rest. Both had bickered the entire way there — Robin didn't like Stroud, not at all — choosing himself to live should be easy, but he hadn't felt Aerith like this in years. She was in the fade, and the fade was in her. To be stuck in the raw fade was a curse to some — but to him, perhaps it would save his life. Not like he had much going for him anyway.

The portal closes behind the group, and he turns his attention back to the demon they'd all been fighting, suddenly feeling the weight of what he'd chosen to do. Poor Varric — he hopes he won't be too hard on himself. Robin clutches his dagger, drawing it over his already scarred forearm to bring in one final surge of power in order to fell the beast. It works, thank the Maker. As it falls, however, he's given the chance to finally think over what he'd done, and he can hardly believe it. “ I can't believe you did that, Robin. ” He says quietly to himself, exhaling into his hands before running them through his much shorter locks, then covers his eyes momentarily. Maker, save me. He thinks, dropping his hands, then feels his heart stop.

It's a flash of pink, an all too familiar color of baby pink that he hasn't seen in over four years. Her shade, disappearing around a rock. This was surely the fade playing with him, taunting him for his use of blood magic. Still, Robin decides to follow, chasing that flash of pink. He chases it and chases it and chases it, going around rocks and trees until he can't move anymore. This was a cruel trick, there was no other way to describe it. He collapses to his knees, palms resting flat against his thighs as he feels blood start to trickle again from his earlier wound. With a quiet sigh, he closes his eyes and dips his head, and thinks of Aerith. That first time they ever met, all the way back in Darktown when she extended that sun-colored blossom out to him. It makes him smile — this was how he liked to remember her. This is what would give him the strength to live out the rest of his days here.

With this resolve, Robin opens his eyes and stands again, though what he sees almost makes him fall again. Surely, this was a trick. A cruel, cruel trick. She stands there — not a flash of pink, not a glimpse of a bow, but her. “ Aerith? ” He dares to call out, feet slowly carrying him towards her. Please, please be real. He mentally pleads, slowly beginning to walk faster through the muck and the slime to what he hopes isn't just a cruel apparition.

#Gainscient #In Character: Robin Hawke.#>:3c

excalibiur

in the shadowed depths of darktown, where light seldom dares to wander, an extraordinary marvel takes root — a flower of such flawless bloom that its brilliance seems to rival the sun itself, as though its petals where woven from its golden rays. though beneath the ceaseless hum of live above, darktown remains bound to the same living planet, cradled within its ever-giving embrace. that lifeforce, gentle yet profound, converges at a singular point — a place that irresistibly draws aerith in. there, in that quiet sanctuary, a perfect bed of flowers flourishes under her tender care. from this tranquil haven, she gathers blossoms to sell, both to those who dwell below and those wandering above, earning what little coin she could.

as they fumble through their pouch, searching for even the faintest glint of coin, aerith's smile holds steady and warm. she tilts her head slightly while soft laughter threads through her words. ❝ well, that depends on the customer. ❞ she begins, stepping closer, her frame inclining towards him. her voice dips into a gentle, playful cadence. ❝ in your case ... it's on the house. think of it as a gift. ❞ and with tender touch, she slides the flower into the folds of their bracer.

❝ lovers used to give these when they were reunited. ❞ she explains softly, her tone casual. her fingers linger momentarily, adjusting the bloom before retreating, her hands returning to the basket nestled in the curve of her elbow. ❝ i've seen you around quite a bit, always darting from one side of town to the next. it looked like you could use with a little something as a pick me up. ❞

thiedas

“ What? You have to at least take something for it. ” Robin watches her carefully with an eyebrow raised, their fingers lingering in their coin pouch as the stranger holds out the flower to him. He reaches out for it, fingers wrapping around the stem of it. It's yellow, with long beautiful petals. Perhaps he'll give it to his mother, or perhaps not, once she offers up the symbolism of the flower. Maybe he'll just keep it in his tiny corner of the room he shares with his brother instead.

I've seen you around. She says, and they're reminded of the last time they came through Darktown. They cause quite the stir, blowing something up to help stop a load of Athenril's product from being stolen. Hopefully this stranger won't recognize him from something like that. “ Yeah, work has brought me here a few times. ” They offer her a slight smile, hoping that it may dissuade @gainscient from any negative opinion or memory she may have of them. “ I appreciate this. Thank you. ”

Robin tucks the flower into his hair, currently loose and flowing over his shoulders. “ Are you from down here? I think I've seen you before, while I'm, ah, ” He pauses, clearing his throat. “ Working. You stay down here to sell flowers, don't you? Do you grow them in Hightown? ” They ask, genuinely curious. There's no way flowers could grow down here, without the sun, in the squalor of Darktown — right?

#Gainscient #In Character: Robin Hawke.#GIGGLES

shadowandbonecentral

#inej going to speak to kaz and stopping herself as she can't quite find the words

#Visage: Neve Gallus.#ok headed off dash for the night. merry christmas

crossbolts

@thiedas said: mercy. that’s a bloody trap. too much and they call you weak, too little and you’re monstrous.

WHAT A TIGHTROPE TO WALK ... leadership was never something renato sought out. it was too much, it was too heavy. viago had seen promise in him, once upon a time, and maybe through all the training, he thought he might want it. to become talon would be the greatest honor a crow could shoulder but it was not without it's risks and hard choices. somehow, they ended up here. the veilguard. a group of people who had nothing in common, banding together to stop the old gods from ending their reality. and he was at the helm, steering them in whatever direction felt right.

but leaving minrathous to burn didn't feel right, did it?

its a bloody trap. her words weigh heavy on him, knowing that his decision cost her the place she called home. treviso was his home. in spite of everything, he couldn't leave home to burn. he couldn't leave viago and teia and lucanis and illario. especially when the antaam were all too ready to prey upon any signs of weakness.

but leadership require empathy and he felt the pain that radiated in her. if only they weren't put in impossible situations, if only he could have been there for her home too. renato's gaze slips to the ground, the air between them has felt so heavy since her return. but he'd missed her dearly, she who had been there with him since the start of this chaos.

"it's not just mercy. it's every little decision, every little gesture. too much, too little. i fear, at the end of all of this, i'll have become more monster than weak." he admits, knowing she does not owe him an ounce of sympathy. yet he lingers in her quarters, soaking up her presence. "neve, i know we'll never go back to what we were. how could we? after everything we've been through. but i ... i'm really glad you're here. i'm really glad you came back."

thiedas

Her home was in shambles, targeted on all sides and destroyed at the hands of an elven God and her dragons and the Venatori. It felt like everything she'd done in her career had been undone in one fell swoop, and she was left to pick up the pieces and mourn the city she called home. Perhaps it would have hurt less had she not taken Rook around, shown him everything — and in doing so, had bared her heart and soul, shown what made her her.

She understands why he picked Treviso. Were she in his shoes, she would have chosen Minrathous. She was in his shoes, and did pick Minrathous. Neve doesn't even blame him for it, but she can see why he might think so. She did leave, after all. She left and she wasn't particularly happy when she said goodbye. She wasn't even happy when she returned, which she's sure left a great impression on the new members of their team.

She was even more surprised when she heard footsteps approaching her door, and he walked through it. What does she even say? Sorry for leaving? Sorry for reacting that way? Of course, there was some distrust she felt — and all because he chose his home over hers. It felt foolish, but it clenched at her heart with a vice grip that she wasn't sure would ever be loosened. To her continual surprise, Renato apologizes. Neve tucks a lock of dark hair behind her ear, then rests her cheek into her palm. “ It was . . . terrible. It still is terrible. My friends, my neighbors — I won't dwell on it, for now. ” She sighs and glances down at her desk, the remnants of what she could salvage from her apartment scattered around. “ I needed to come back. The only way I'll get to Ghilan'nain is through this — and she will pay for what happened to Dock Town. ” Neve presses her palms to her desk and pushes herself onto her feet, lips pursed slightly. “ I'm happy to be back too. It seems you have your hands full now — a necromancer with a walking skeleton and a fire - breathing Qunari? Where did you find them? ”

#Artiglios #In Character: Neve Gallus.#hehehehe #merry christmas ig

banalnas

victor doesn’t particularly want to talk about illario either———honestly , he doesn’t know what he wants to talk about. certainly not the last time they were in this room together , the kicked-puppy look he’d worn on his way out. maybe lunch is the safest bet , that or a nap. they can’t talk about anything if they’re eating , or he’s asleep. THEN HE CAN'T HUMILIATE HIMSELF AGAIN. so he nods , grumbles , grabs a pillow to hug to himself and hides his face in it. ❛❛ yeah , i could eat. swear i’d be skin and bones without you around. ❜❜ here he peeks up at lucanis , a playful smile to his eyes , hoping to claw back some semblance of their normal. ❛❛ i’d be eatin’ twigs and harding’s idea of soup , all the time. probably with twigs in it. ❜❜

thiedas

“ Twigs? No, that won't do. We'll make sure you eat something good, with no twigs. ” He swears, letting himself smile as he looks at Vic, who is laid out on his bed with his face in his pillow. He likes the view, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it out loud. He was never very good at this sort of thing, instead content to watch this and blush over it for eternity, despite the way Spite practically screams for him to do something. “ Let me make you quiche. Have you had one of those? I've seen cuisine in Ferelden is . . . questionable, if Harding's meals are anything to go by. ”

#Banalnas #In Character: Lucanis Dellamorte.#Queue.#:)

crossbolts

" YOU DIDN'T FAIL ANYONE, " he speaks softly, leaning against the nearby wall. weisshaupt was an impossible situation. one that none could have ever readily prepared for, even seasoned assassin's, such as themselves. rook's eyes remain fixated on his opposite, arms uncrossing themselves as he walks over and kneels in front of lucanis. " coming out of that place alive was a small victory in itself. we live another day, and the next time we strike, she'll be dead. we know what we're dealing with now, right? she was a cloud, lucanis. there wasn't anything any of us could have done better. "

thiedas

I failed. I failed. I failed. He repeats in his head, staring ahead as he tries his best to remain awake — he could feel Spite stirring, aching to take advantage of the lull in his mood and energy. “ I never fail, Rook. ” He growls, arms crossed over his chest. “ I am the Demon of Vyrantium. I don't miss, even if it's a cloud. ” Though, he'd never tried to assassinate a cloud before. Lucanis sighs, shaking his head and turning away. “ I do not know if we'll have another chance — but if we do, I will not miss. ”

#Artiglios #In Character: Lucanis Dellamorte.#Queue.#giggles and rubs my hands

banalnas

oh , he does know how to flirt , when he can find it. victor smirks , head tilted curiously , in a way that that makes his hair drape just so over one shoulder. ❛❛ don't tempt me. ❜❜ briefly , the smirk bares his teeth———A WOLFISH THING. but then he relents , snickering and leaning down to sniff his own cup of coffee , wondering if that alone is sufficient for spite. not that this particular pot has much scent to it at all. ❛❛ i'm really not. again , literally friends with a spirit in a dead boy's body. ❜❜ and its with fondness that he says this: he misses cole. the caretaker here reminds him of compassion———he keeps wondering if solas has spoken to him , lately. IF HE KNOWS. eyes blinks him back from his thoughts , turning back onto lucanis. ❛❛ no , he just makes me curious , really. he's never been outwardly hostile here , y'know ? just a bit of a grumbling nuisance. i think he likes me. does he ? ❜❜

thiedas

“ A spirit in a dead boy's body? ” Lucanis repeats, tone inflecting with the curiosity he holds. Such thing would be seen as an abomination in Antiva, even more so in southern Thedas — but to know Vic wasn't scared did bring him some comfort. He sets down the empty mug as Spite turns to look at the other, and he can see a grin growing out of the corner of his eye. YES. I DO. I LIKE VICTOR. Lucanis rubs the back of his neck and grins at him, motioning for the other to follow as he heads back to his little nook behind the kitchen. “ You would know if he didn't like you. He's never been afraid to show that. ” He sits down on his bed, arms crossed as he stares forward. “ Like back in the ossuary, whenever his least favorite guard would come to check on us, we'd have to be restrained because Spite would hit him. He leaves you alone, so . . . ” A pause as he watches Spite walk over to Vic, something that might have made him nervous once but no longer did. “ I'd say he does. ” So do I, he thinks, but doesn't say anything. Perhaps his time had passed. “ Why are you so comfortable with spirits? Most are not. ”

#Banalnas #In Character: Lucanis Dellamorte.#Queue.#kicks my feet and giggles

praesparo

though his own life was filled with much isolation, merlin forever kept his ear to the ground & his eyes to the stars. with each blight, the influence & threat from the darkspawn grew. despite his stance on the world as well as his lack of presence within it, he couldn't let it consume the world he still exists in (nor let the world another loved so dearly perish). his eyes watch her again, finishing their brief scan over his surroundings before tilting his head. ❝ my name is emrys. ❞ he wasn't with the chantry but he didn't want to mention them either. ❝ i've come seeking answers. don't suppose you could provide them? ❞

thiedas

“ That depends. ” This man, this Emrys, something was different about him. What that was, she didn't know. She'd find out in time, though, as she usually did. Morrigan's face remains cold, yet curious, as she looks at the stranger. “ Most don't wander here by accident, and those who do end up dead. You must really want these answers — and we'll perhaps see if I'm feeling inclined to answer your questions. ”

#Praesparo ft. Merlin Ambrosius.#In Character: Morrigan.#Queue.#hehehe

antimetathesis

He keeps his humor to himself.

For the most part.

“Right. Didja want me to start doin’ tricks, then?” He presses against the (neither cold nor warm, just neutrally temperate, like most things in the Lighthouse) floor and uses the lift to maneuver himself into a temporary seat, palms flat behind him as support, legs bent at the knees out front. “I’m gettin’ some mixed signals here, Taash. Are we havin’ a friendly trainin’ session, or is this a competition, and I just happened to miss the memo?” He drums his fingers against the floor, once, twice, an off-beat rhythm. “‘Cause I’d prefer if we did that somewhere… not-here.” He means not-Lighthouse-here. He never feels right here.

“Besides,” Kaien presses his lips together, a tight lid on the smile, “if anything, you’d be my student.”

thiedas

“ Of course it's a friendly training session. Why wouldn't it be? ” Of course, for them, it was always a competition. They blame their mother and her Qunari upbringing — and while they tried to shake off everything they'd picked up from it, some things would always remain. Like this.

Taash scoffs, hands on their hips as they squint at him. “ Me? Your student? Don't make me laugh. ” They shake their head, letting out a chuckle. “ Name the place, I'll show you. I won't even use my fire to melt the ground you'll be quote - unquote besting me on. ”

#Antimetathesis #In Character: Taash.#Queue.#giggles

adamanteine-a

following the silent cue, she hums, walking towards the edge of the room. a small laugh escapes her. `` i'm sure it is. `` from her position, she can see the view beyond the translucent window’s glass. a sky so gray it’s almost comforting, dark clouds forming in the distance, silently ruminating. if she were to push it open, she knows a cold breeze would slip through the gap and she can almost smell the rain. heavy, earthy daffodils and oak wood. in the distance, sunflower fields seek shelter from the downpour. her head tilts at the question, a smile forming. `` orlais. val royeaux, to be specific. `` she simply states. that wasn't the full truth, however. `` i used to travel around quite a lot, though, so i never tended to stay in one place for too long. `` her eyes return to remain glued to the surroundings behind the window again. far ahead, but still close enough to see. she looks at him again. `` the views around thedas are lovely to enjoy, if it wasn't for everything going on. `` a pause. `` you must have noticed, though, have you not? ``

thiedas

He hasn't had much opportunity to see Antiva, much less the rest of Thedas since he got out — in fact, all he's seen was the little it took to return to the Crow's hideout before he was whisked away to the fade, a place someone like him should never go — or, if they could, they should fear it, considering the demon that lived inside of him. Lucanis nods as she speaks, Val Royeaux, Orlais, places he'd only heard of but never visited. The Crows don't take contracts in southern Thedas anymore.

“ Notice what, the beauty of Thedas or how well traveled you are? ” He stares down at the mug in his hand, hoping the warm liquid inside will help fight the sleep that threatens to take over. “ The beauty of Thedas will wait until I'm called again, which, based on how Rook took my situation, I'm not sure will be anytime soon — and for how well - traveled you are, we have barely spoken. I guess this means you'll have to tell me stories, so I can make that assumption on my own. ”

#Adamanteine #In Character: Lucanis Dellamorte.#Queue.#ignore that this took so long to reply to #IM EXCITED

erebius

❛❛ i feel like i could be offended by that , but there's no point. i'm not the reading sort. ❜❜ victor snorts as he passes by dorian , steps to the railing that overlooks the downstairs and peers down———momentarily dizzy from the height of it , gripping on with white knuckles. solas isn't down there , right now. good. ❛❛ no , i'm here for this. d'you ever spy on baldy down there ? i keep thinkin' this spot is prime for some mischief , but i haven't decided what kind. if we had a really long feather duster . . . ❜❜

thiedas

“ Oh, you devil. I like your plan. ” He lets out a hearty laugh, one he's sure would get a glare out of Solas were he present. A feather duster, that was a good one. “ No feather dusters, but sometimes I throw crumpled sheets of paper at him. He knows it's me, but pretends he doesn't. ” Dorian hums softly, leaning against the bookshelf with his arms crossed. “ And where would one procure such a feather duster, hm? I'd pay to see it. ”

#Banalnas #In Character: Dorian Pavus.#Queue.#giggles and kicks my feet

satellitewar

the more exhaustive part of their journey is over. the man who killed @thiedas's parents is dead. their problems are solved. as tricky as the hunt became, the end result was worth the strife and stress both parties went through. even grogu helped in his own way — the little one's magic appeared at the perfect time, and his eagerness to protect gwendolyne and din from harm came in handy. they're safe. the fire burns between their bodies, and the night hangs over their heads like a down blanket. tension grows thick, but din's desire to remain stoic and silent is thicker. he tends to the fire, checks on grogu, and sits still across from gwen's fervent stare.

he's expecting her thanks, but her apologies are unexpected. "don't mention it." the mandalorian warrior's words ease from behind his helmet, his cool tone masking the ache within him. there are thousands of words he'd like to say, and not enough room in his chest to say them. "you were right in how you treated me," he goes on, managing the volume of his words. he chooses them carefully. "i failed you. but it's over now. he's dead." din's helmet turns toward her again. "once we bring grogu to his people, we can part ways again." you can be rid of me, he wants to add, but he doesn't. a piece of him wishes she'd keep him around. "you can rebuild your life." without me.

thiedas

“ It doesn't matter if you think I was right. ” She says rather suddenly, staring at him from across the fire. She missed him — she still misses him, misses that closeness they shared. Even now, she imagines what it could be like to curl up beside him, fingers pressed to his helmet as they discussed the events of the day. Perhaps she craves that comfort after a years - long conflict ended, after she learns the wrong person had been tried and killed for the murder of her parents. He'd been there for her the whole time, even when she thought she didn't want him to be.

She didn't want to be anywhere he wasn't — and traveling with him again just reminded her of that. But she'd made it clear multiple times that she didn't want him anymore. It would be foolish to tell him how she felt, right? No, she should just do it, and get it over with. “ Yeah, my life. ” Gwen clears her throat, and glances down at the dirt floor. “ I had an idea of what it could be like once he died, and my parents were avenged. But I don't really want it anymore. ” She exhales quietly, hands moving to pick at the skin around her thumbs. “ And I don't want it anymore because you're not a part of those plans. I thought leaving would make things easier on me back then, but all it's done is make me miserable — and being back with you again . . . ” She trails off, staring at him again from across the fire. “ I have a new plan for my life, Din. One that involves you — but only if you'd have me again. ”

#Satellitewar ft. Din Djarin.#In Character: Gwendolyne Cousland.#Queue.#EEEEEEEEEE

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