compassionatefade

[compassionatefade]

divineshadows​:

The voice from above drew Emil’s attention upwards, a bit surprised to hear someone call out to him so suddenly. And it was a strange thing to hear, admittedly- not wrong, but it wasn’t like that was something most people could tell at just a glance.

Curiosity and suspicion both took root, though it was ultimately a more guarded curiosity that won over. Perhaps… perhaps this one was something like Verius, the spirit of heart? He was the only one that they knew of from their world that could do anything similar, who could hear ‘both’ of them in a sense.

“U-Um… I think we’ve got it… mostly figured out?” Better than things had been, that much was certain- no longer fighting over control, but finally synchronized with one another.

(“You do know he’s probably just making things up, right? Why are you listening to him?”)

(I mean… aren’t you curious too? That’d be a pretty weird thing to just say at random… it’s not like it’s impossible. Verius could hear us both, too.)

(“Tch. Don’t remind me.”)

Ignoring the mental equivalent of an eye roll from his other self, Emil just gave the stranger an awkward smile. “It’s taken some time, but we don’t mind. It works for us, at least.”

The shock of the sparked memory is enough to send Cole tumbling, though he comes back to his body in the air, flips through with the momentum to land crouched and ready. His hands twitch for his daggers - shock, betrayal, anger, confusion - but he stills them, stops. Breathes, like Varric taught him. Here and now.

The anger stays, though, intensifies with the wrongness of it. “I won’t do that,” he spits, shaking with it. “I never would. He shouldn’t - how can you be Heart, and lock someone’s self away? Betray their trust?”

His arm swipes in front of him, still trembling from the kind of heat that only comes from injustice anger. He isn’t Justice - can’t imagine being it, being anything but slightly-askew Compassion - but he can understand Justice spirits, in moments like this. “Never, never, never. If he comes here - if he does that again - if anyone does that, I’ll stop them. It isn’t right.” Breathe. Breathe. It isn’t their fault. (How? How?)

[compassionatefade]

@divineshadows​

“Two as one and one as two,” Cole calls, quiet but carrying, his toes dangling down into the air from the branch he’s perched on. Up high is better, most days, and though he hates the fright often sparked by a voice from nowhere (it isn’t nowhere, but up is a place so many people forget about), but they’ll usually be frightened no matter what he does. If he’s farther away, they tend to feel - not better, but less bad.

This will be - difficult. It isn’t their-his fault - it’s Cole’s, or, it isn’t - because that’s the problem it’s all wrapped around, and the problem of this problem especially. It’s not the same, obviously. But it’s bad enough, how tangled he gets when it isn’t too close to muddle him. He needs to be better about keeping it separate, needs to find someone to help, or to practice.

He hasn’t found anyone for that, yet, or a good way to keep what’s separate straight. It would be... better, if he had before, or if he could wait - if he-they were talking it through, if someone else was helping heal. But it’s all been pushed aside again, and - well, he’s here. So, ham-handed half-help it will be, for now.

“Is it hard, only one speaking to anyone but each other? When you have words, but pushing through means pushing past, so if you can speak sounds you’ve just swapped silences. I can hear you both, if you want.” Or if they don’t want. But it would be nice if it was helping.

[compassionatefade]

the forgotten boy

[compassionatefade]

“human-passing”

[compassionatefade]

To: All Contacts

From: Cole

> Hello. My name is Cole. Some of you have met me. Some of those are scared of me. I’m sorry for that.

> If you are in the mists, I can help you. If things start appearing and you are scared, or you don’t know what’s real, please tell me through this machine.

> I can tell you what is real and what is not. I can help bring you back if the mists are taking you away from what is safe and real.

> Please don’t be scared of me. I want to help.

> I will help you if you call for me. I promise.

[compassionatefade]

quickbow​:

It was a late night, something Sera usually enjoyed, however this evening the darkness taunted her with painful reminders of the past. Creepy–that’s the first word that came to mind when she felt a presence following behind her. A quick glance over her shoulder yielded nothing of note, so she continued walking, though her arms crossed over her chest in defence against whatever spooky magic nonsense she might have sensed.

Of course, almost as soon as she’d picked up speed on her trek, she heard it. That distinctly eerie voice calling out her name, causing the elf’s nose to twitch as her eyes darted around her once more.

❝Nuh uh...❞ she muttered to herself, convinced the voice could only be a manifestation of her loneliness and nostalgia. The island was weird like that, it played tricks on the mind, even if it chose to mimic one of the least pleasant of her companions. ❝Friggin’ weird voices! Shut it–I’m not in the mood for this!❞

He stop-skitters again, this one only half a hesitation before he runs on towards her. No - she’s not afraid of him this time, though that might change if he convinces her. Now he should find her, if only so that she won’t think she’s being haunted by ghosts of the past.

Cole isn’t a ghost. He’s a spirit.

There, around the corner - hand on bow to chase away the helplessness, trying not to remember that some things can’t be shot. He spins, slows, stops. She can hear him now clearly, he’s sure, but maybe it would be good if she can’t see him just yet. To let her choose, if she wants to at all.

“Sera, it’s me, Cole. I’m here too, like you. I’m” - he pauses - “not really real, but I’m as real as I was, in Skyhold. Remember? You called me Creepy and Thing, but you didn’t think I wasn’t real.”

A pause, a thought; he takes out his knives and places them on the ground as loudly as he knows how to, so she knows. “I’d like to see you again. But I don’t really want to be shot.” He’s felt too many gut-wound deaths to want one for himself.

[compassionatefade]

feralanimus​:

“The Greenland Shark, Somniosus microcephalus, is one of the largest living species of shark at an average of 6.4 meters, possibly up to 7.3 meters. It’s lifespan ranges from an estimated 250-500 years, and it lives in just above freezing temperatures in arctic waters. 

High concentrations of Trimethylamine N-oxide in their body tissue is what prevents the distortion of proteins and the resulting death from water pressure–this is also what makes it incredibly toxic to eat fresh. 

However, put through an incredibly long fermenting and drying process, it becomes safe for consumption.” 

“Why would you kill something in order to eat it if there are much easier things to eat? To hunt for necessity is one thing; to hunt something you can’t eat unless you leave its remains for a very long time is cruelty.”

[compassionatefade]

@quickbow​

It’s been so long since Cole has sensed someone familiar.

His head snaps up, senses following the echoes of a wild laugh back to the thrumming heart that birthed it. Yes - yes, there’s no mistaking her, not when he spent so many days racing alongside and so many nights listening to her wildness slowly settle into sleep, her room (her hideyhole, her escape) just across the way from his place in the rafters.

He stops - stumbles - he was running? Yes - yes, it’s been so long - when he remembers, though. Fear curdled sour, hiding behind a hate-that-isn’t; flinging words like weapons, building hasty barriers with “it” and “demon” and “that... thing”. Would it be right, to interrupt her as she is now, to intrude with the forcible reminder of all that he represents to her? To bring the fear back to the forefront, embodiment as he is?

But it’s been so long.

“Sera! Sera!” Cole calls, and runs towards the night.

[compassionatefade]

local spirit yells at a zoo

[compassionatefade]

local ghosty* boy is back just in time for spooky season! and what’s spookier than someone uncovering all your hidden traumas and secrets and saying them for the world to hear?

uncapped but selective rp ad for cole dragonage! as always, please read this before liking!

*spirit

[compassionatefade]

(some enterprising individual could make a KILLING off of a sunglasses stand right about now)

[compassionatefade]

[beating away the executive dysfunction demons with a stick]

me again! i will do my best to actually get to threads this time, i promise....

uncapped but selective starter call for cole! please read this before liking, and if we had a thread before the last time i disappeared, it’s likely i’ll reply to you soon!

[compassionatefade]

Unlocking a traumatizing memory that’s haunting you like 

[compassionatefade]

heroicrow​:

Regardless of what is going on with this place, Goro had determined that without access to all of Loki’s abilities (which he’d discovered by now that he doesn’t have), he wouldn’t get very far just by trying to tear it apart.

Thus, he decided that he has to take a more subtle approach.

He has to blend in. He has to find out what he can through fellow “residents.”

He decided to start with one of those that he lives with.

Luckily, one is in the kitchen as he peaks in.

“Oh. H-hello.” He smiles and offers a small wave. “I apologize for appearing so suddenly… but I was curious who my apartment mates were. It’s nice to meet you.”

@compassionatefade​

Ah.

He doesn’t like these - never likes the slithering wrongness of the hearts of those who hurt others, but there’s something worse about the ones who hurt because they’ve been hurt themselves. It’s easier, when all they want is power or money or the thrill of seeing someone in pain; then he can make sure they can never hurt anyone again, and feel good that they’re gone. This type of person - a yawning abyss hiding behind a smile, a murderer in pain - tears him in two, between the urges to help and to stop from hurting.

Cole hasn’t decided on a course of action - confront him? watch him? stop him? - when the source of the conflict walks into their shared kitchen and forces a decision himself. (It’s good that he doesn’t come back here often; the realization that Goro Akechi is someone he has been assigned to live next to would keep him away, if not.) He’ll have to answer, now, and he neither knows the trick of feeling one thing while your face says another nor knows why he would want to use it.

“Is it nice because I’m a source of information when you’re floundering, or someone you think will dance to your tune if you pretend at friendship? Do you say it without meaning it, because the prodigy detective whose face you wear is polite to everyone? Can you tell why you’re lying this time, Goro Akechi? Are you lying, or are you just not telling the truth?”

[compassionatefade]

here’s an event starter call for cole, now a somewhat wobbly fledgling angel for the duration of maskerade! non-event starter call is here.

uncapped but selective; please read this before liking! in terms of activities, cole will only be participating in ghoulishly good ghost hunting (and missing the intended point of the outing entirely), but you can also find him attempting to figure out flying, or just doing his usual schtick around the festivities!

[compassionatefade]

(the implication in @heartanalytics‘s post that cole uses his forget me power to make people forget about him when he’s not in isola is now canon)

[compassionatefade]

Neil Gaiman, Neverwhere

Submitted by inpinitaiseu.