quiisquiliae

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Let's see how dead I am after 2 training sessions today.

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The number of times I watch Davy Crockett is directly indicative of my mental state tbh.

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Marian downed the potion without complaint as if it were a shot. She still was convinced that the unholy concoction she threw together would work just fine, and if it killed her then it was still an improvement over the fever and aches as far as she was concerned.

"Least she's not still trying to throw you at every young nobleman in the Free Marches," she grumbled, snuggling down into the covers, feeling suddenly cold. "I've told her I like tits till I'm blue in the face, she just won't listen."

Aia looked down at the bottle as her sister grumbled about their mother, not really able to argue against anything she said. Instead, she stood and went to the trunk next to the writing table– the place all their spare potions usually ended up– and brought back a suitable healing potion.

"Neither of us do enough to 'secure the legacy,' it seems," she murmured as she uncorked the much-better-smelling potion, "but also doing all the work to keep this manor running... funny, isn't it?" She huffed softly, handing the little bottle to her sister. "I don't think she ever talked to Carver or Bethany that way."

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"Trainin' a griffon can't be that much harder than trainin' a dog, right?" Of course, it was nothing remotely useful. No, that was best left to Davrin. Now useless and semi-annoying tricks? That Rook could do. Begging Assan got down almost concerningly fast. The truffles might have helped with it, if he was being honest.

"Come on, play dead boy." Assan sat up on his hind legs instead, front feet in the air and gave a demanding squawk instead. "Ghost, show him how it's done, play dead." He said, turning to the hound who stared innocently at him like he'd never been taught the command in his life.

Rook gave an exasperated sigh. "Fuckin' useless."

Starter for @quiisquiliae - Talon

Eventually, he sighs.  “ I’m not sure that's how it works ” the assassin eventually comments, brows knitted together as he observes Tal’s work. Granted it wasn’t his field of expertise either, but surely there was some overlap to be found. Possibly.

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“Things didn’t go exactly as planned, but I’m not dead so it’s a win.”

— The Martian by Andy Weir (via thoughtkick)

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This is cracking me up..why on earth did they delete his response in the movie!? hes so offended LOL

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SEND “⚡️” AND A QUESTION AND MY MUSE WILL BE FORCED TO ANSWER HONESTLY

Please specify the muse for multimuse blogs.

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Dead. Got sucked into the excel sheets at work today and stayed late to finish what I was doing. Gonna be dead and anti-social tomorrow as well since I'm training someone all fucking day who hates me for some unknown reason. I'll be out early Thursday AND working from home though so I'll be around in some capacity then.

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"One last battle, my love.." ❤

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POV ur the barkeep of the hangman and you ask varric and hawke to finally pay their bar tab.

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Maevis frowned. She was doing it again wasn't she? Answering questions a little too sharp, speaking in too short a tone, shouting at them from the window of a tower she'd built herself and swallowed the key. "You uh, touched that artifact and I had it under control, I did, really." she answered, leveling her tone. She said that now, but the damned thing was quite upset with her before the young man stumbled on her bickering with it. She'd been told by Irelin before that sometimes artifacts needed a gentle or more patient touch. She was neither patient nor gentle, and if you asked her there was more than one way to skin a cat. "Maevis." she introduced herself flippantly. "And I didn't need help." @possessedbyrage

It didn't look like it, as far as Kieran was concerned, but he didn't really want to argue. He also didn't want things exploding on them either, regardless of how snippy she was.

"Kieran," he replied, watching her work with the artifact warily. He backed up to a distance deemed safe, and began preparing a shield to cast if need be. "If you'd like help, I've worked with them before. Just be careful, I've seen them explode."

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A gift that was to be tended and cared for- it wasn't unlike his mother's views, and he remembered her absolute delight and pride when he showed her something new he had learned or mastered.

"Mother doesn't know necromancy, I don't think." That had stood out to him. While Morrigan certainly knew much about the ancient and arcane, magic was so broad Kieran was convinced that surely no one person could know it all. A fact that in and of its self both fascinated and challenged him.

"She says that there are kinds of magic that Circles don't teach- like blood magic, and shapeshifting. Are there things like that taught in Tevinter that we wouldn't know about here in the south?" Kieran settled down on the ground, back to a bookshelf and looked up at Dorian with curious and expectant eyes. He'd come prepared- a pencil and a small bound notebook ready for anything he wanted to remember.

"I don't think necromancy is often taught here."

He considered the child’s response. He wasn’t sure what exactly fell into things Morrigan could not teach her son. The woman seemed…well informed, and even that felt like an understatement.

The latter end of his question he could answer though. “Magic isn’t different in Tevinter than it is anywhere else.” He began. “Rather it’s the behavior towards magic that contradicts the south. In Tevinter, magic is a gift, and it’s cared for and tended to like one. Magic is in itself such a privilege even that Soporati wait and pray for the day one of their children or their grandchildren might be born a mage. There is pride in being a mage. The Southern Chantry treats magic like a threat to the safety of the mage and of others. Young mages are taught to be afraid of their own abilities and accept being considered something of a freak that must be locked away from the rest of the world like criminals. It’s not wonder the South sees so many more possessions and deaths amongst their circles, demons feed off of that fear and self hatred.” Perhaps he ought to get off his soap box; he was still after all speaking to a child who had no control over this situation, he simply asked a question.

“I’ve been to many circles during my studies,” conveniently he’d left out why or how that was. “I’ve been the Necropolis in Nevarra to learn necromancy from an exceptionally bright scholar.” One he would conveniently also leave out their not getting on very well because of Dorian’s famous attitude.

“I guess the short answer is I know a lot of magic. I can’t heal though, something about the process I always somehow make it worse.”

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we can't fight them if we're exhausted. ( finn or talon? ) @blyghthound

"No," Finn agreed, but continued sharpening his sword. The rhythmic motion steadied his nerves, and he found comfort in the repetitiveness. "But it won't do for us to be caught unprepared."

He nodded to the pitched tent. "Go get some rest. I can take first watch tonight."

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Emmrich: How would you like your body prepared in the event of your death?

Tal: *I dunno noises* Never thought about it???

Emmrich: Never??

Tal: I dunno, chuck me over the edge of the Lighthouse into the Fade or feed me to a dragon or somethin'???

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 💋 💋 💋(Tal/Max!)

Hunger was a sensation Max was intimately familiar with, one sated by only the most specific of cravings. Lucky for him, the focus of his desire was never terribly far away. Talon lay curled beside him, dead to the world in the way only someone who’d been thoroughly ravished could be and still Max wanted more of him. Fingers trailing from shoulder to hip, he took stock of every mark he’d already left on his partner. Dark bruises littered his shoulders, a couple of them clearly the result of teeth. There were more on his hips, and Max knew if he placed his hands on them they’d fit them perfectly. He knew there were more scattered along the inside of the assassin’s thighs as well, even if he couldn’t see them at the current moment.

He’d have felt bad if not for the fact that Talon had encouraged every one of them. His lover had learned long ago that Max would never mark him in ways he didn’t want, and relished in every single one he earned himself.

The sight of them only made him want to have him again, in spite of how thoroughly they’d worn themselves out earlier. Still, he knew how to be content with what he’d been given, and was willing to leave things be…until Talon rolled onto his back and gave him that smile he loved. Clearly he’d woken him up with his touch, but the younger man didn’t seem terribly bothered. In fact, he looked downright pleased.

“What’s wrong darlin’” he murmured, “didn’t get enough of me earlier?”

It was meant to be a taunt, and Max’s lips twitched in amusement.

“No,” he answered honestly, and Talon’s grin turned wicked.

“Well then, what’re you waiting for, an invitation?”

He answered by pinning the younger man beneath him, and dipping his head to kiss him, pausing just before he did to murmur, “yes.”

Talon’s hands found purchase on his hips, gripping tight enough to leave bruises of his own as he arched into him. Any comment he might have made was stolen when Max closed that remaining bit of distance to kiss him breathless.

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 💋 (Nate/Kieran)

Relationships were weird. Relationships with mages who could turn themselves into different animals whenever they wanted was even weirder, especially when doing so was the knee jerk reaction to being embarrassed. Nate had learned that even before he and Kieran had decided to give things a try. His friend had turned into a mouse at the suggestion of being flirted with back then, which had been rather endearing. It still was, though Kieran had gotten better at not giving into the urge.

That didn’t mean there weren’t still incidents, like Kieran falling asleep on him as a cat or mouse and waking them both up with the sudden shift back to human. Thankfully, Nate was more amused by moments like that than annoyed, or else he’d probably be more upset than he was at the current moment while listening to Kieran ramble out apologies.

Nate listened, hands resting lightly on the other man’s hips, and wondered how long it would take Kieran to notice that he’d effectively shifted to straddle Nate’s lap after being startled awake. It took a bit, but when he did, the resulting blush that colored his cheeks was well worth it. He did not, however, change forms. Or move to get off him. Both of which were an improvement from his usual. Instead, the other man tipped his head and observed him in turn.

“You’re very comfortable to sit on, did you know that?”

The quip was clearly meant to be teasing, and Nate’s small smile widened into a grin that had Kieran’s expression turning wary.

“Glad you think so, gives you an idea of what it’ll be like later.”

The words seemed to confuse Kieran for half a second before the blush that had nearly faded came back full force and Nate laughed, earning himself a swat to the chest.

“You’re awful,” Kieran accused, and Nate just shrugged.

“And yet you fell for me anyway.”

Another, lighter, swat was his reward and Nate grinned again before propping himself up on an elbow. Despite his embarrassment, Kieran had yet to move from his perch, and when Nate curled a hand around the back of his neck to tug him down into a kiss he didn’t resist. Instead, he pressed closer, fingers curling in the fabric of Nate’s shirt to keep him there.

And when Nate pulled away, he followed, pinning him with his weight in order to initiate a kiss of his own.

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Every time I hop on DAV, I thank god Tal is my rook and not Ashe, because poor girl HATES heights.