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{{ I’m alive }}

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andrasted asked: dragon age + favorite minor character   ↳ Cremisius Aclassi Krem de la Crème (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

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Headcanon;

Writing-

 Rohan learns proper reading and writing when he becomes the inquisitor. His handwriting is sloppy, often his sentences curve up and down instead of straight across the page. He’s also heavy handed, ink bleeding through to the other side of the page and splattering the corners.

 He does not write descriptively, he writes only what needs to be said. For example.

 There is Venatori movement to the south. This is bad, send garrison.

 There’s no “I’ve seen evidence of our enemy moving south and Leliana’s agents have also confirmed this. Please send men for reinforcements.”

 He also has a habit of capitalizing all his R’s 

Example:

 “Reggie wRecked RoddeRick’s hoRse dRawn caRRiage.”

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“Aveline, please get your cousin a new hat.”

“Turns out heroes need to dig Latrines just like everyone else.”

Self indulgent Threnn set because I havent seen any good close-ups of her around. aND LOOK?? AT THIS FACE?? A mess of Freckles and she’s got some wicked scars and tHE. MOST. GLORIOUS. NOSE!!

Also pretty sure her eyebrows are red so we have a freckled, red-headed, no nonsense soldier-lady with a practical fervour and a jawline to die for…

I’m officially headcanoning Threnn as one of Aveline’s Ferelden relations ok @forthrightshield imagine it tho

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      “Why side with mages when you could have       an army of demon free templars fighting with you?”

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 Rohan grinned and grinned, his eyes twinkling with genuine humor. The boy imagined a small cabin, sparse in furnishings, but full of warmth that only comes from a well fed fire and sharing space with others. He can see the loft, he imagines straw stuffed sacks like his old mattress and children tangled in a sleepy mass. 

      “I didn’t take you for a shifty sleeper.       You never woke up when you hit the floor?”

 The Inquisitor was particularly amazed by that little notion. How could one sleep so deeply that not even falling from such a height would wake them? It was baffling, considering how rarely he fell into a deep sleep. Even before all of this end of the world doom and gloom business he had slept lightly.

 His smile dampened ever so slightly. Banns, in his skewed experience, were little more than bullies with authority. They hiked up taxes, took what and who they pleased with little to now consequence. The elves had been particularly vulnerable to the abuse, but few cared in the end.

 Rohan shook away negative thoughts like he was ridding himself of cobwebs. His gaze having fallen turned back up to the adult and his usual grin returned full force.

      “I don’t know much about farms, outside of what I picked up when I found an odd job or two outside of Denerim.”

She smiled, forcing the last bit of sad away. “There were seven of us kids, plus Ma and Da. My parents they ah… built a loft for me and the rest to sleep in. I must have rolled out of it a dozen times, so much they moved their bed below so that I’d land in between them rather than the floor.”

It was a good memory though at the time it had been disorienting, going to sleep next to Mae and waking up a floor below. Lucky Beatrice supposed that she hadn’t cracked her head open falling, or drug one of the bairns with her over the edge.

“It was nice. Hard, hard work to keep the farm going and everyone fed. But it was worth it, knowing we had our own land. Most didn’t, just crofters for the Banns. They didn’t own anything other than the clothes on their backs, and some not even that.”  

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forthrightshield started following you

 Rohan is nearly inhaling a piece of stolen flatbread. His chin dusted with crumbs and specks of drool glinting on the corners of his mouth. The boy is ecstatic to have something to put in his belly, anything to quiet the riotous growling. 

 It was as he finished his last bite that he noticed the captain of the guard approaching. Gulping loudly to get down the rather large mouthful he tried to act like he wasn’t, in fact, a thief. 

 He leans back, unaware of the bread crumbs that covered his face and ratty shirt. Nope, not a thief. Totally just a dirty kid relaxing in High Town.

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“Shartan is an intriguing figure. Virtually nothing is known of his life before Andraste, and even the information succeeding their meeting is scarce—more myth and supposition than concrete fact, maddeningly enough. Three things, however, are certain: Shartan, whoever he was, seemed to be an elf; Andraste herself granted to him her own mother’s blade, Glandivalis, and proclaimed the People free; and whatever wisdom he wished to impart has been stricken from the Chant entirely, declared Dissonant. But how I learned that, dear reader, is a story (and a long one) for another time.”

            —the journals of Ethena Ghilain, written 10 Wintermarch, 9:42 Dragon.

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OutOfSmiles;

Depressed, might not come to this blog for awhile. Also, deleted my assassin OC in a fit of hopelessness.

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PSA;

Mun has broken their only pair of glasses and is currently struggling to do anything.

 So, let me lay this out right now. I can see, sort of, but going without my glasses is causing some horrendous headaches and I just don’t think I’ll be doing much of anything. I’m still on skype, so if you want that you can ask, but do know I won’t just hand that information out to everyone.

 I’m very sorry for the inconvenience, please be patient with me. 

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Inquisitor: ‘Tis but a scratch. Leliana: A scratch?! Your arm’s come off!

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Dejan Loyola for potential older fc?

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 Rohan gives a stern nod of his head, brow slightly furrowed, the curve his usually grinning mouth suddenly straightening into a severe line. He wouldn’t let anyone get harassed if he could help it. A good man didn’t let things like that happen in his presence, right?

      “Good, I’ll have to put them in their place otherwise.”

 The serious mask cracks, his lopsided grin taking a cocky turn as he lifts his arm to show off his bicep. It’s unimpressive, but he seems pleased with the beginnings of his gangly frame filling out into something sturdier. 

      “It musta been nice to live on a farm with your whole family. My mum and me, we lived in this little apartment that tilted something awful. Everything rolled south, even us!” 

 He chuckled at that memory, it wasn’t always easy to talk about his mother or his home. Sometimes, just remembering her face made his eyes sting and his throat close, but today was good, and this was a memory worth sharing.

Even if the Templars were throwing rocks at her barn every night, Beatrice wouldn’t have told Rohan. He was a child. A burdened one, but the fact remained. She shook her head, grateful to be able to say the truth in this case.

“They don’t bother me.” How could they? She was at the one end of the soldiers’ tents and them at the Keep proper. Hard to abuse what you never saw. And of course Beatrice was good at living sight unseen, a skill perfected in the Circle.

“He was. I was ten years older than him, but even back then he could do the work of a man. Had to be able to with the farm.”  

It hadn’t done Beck or Da a lick of good being strong with the Blight. They weren’t fighters. They had no magic and there… Beatrice doubted any of the homestead or even the bones of her family were left.

Another thing not to tell the Inquisitor.

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i can't think of a url so!! talk about the first person you follow who's url starts with an S c:

                                    Positivity Meme

I’m so glad you sent this because I get to talk about @somedayshero. 

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It scares me sometimes, the emptiness I see in my eyes.

The Wonder Years (via

hqlines

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