#Fade prison stuff

[glowing-blue-feathermage]

happy DADWC Friday :) sending you “You were always on my mind.” for Fenhawke

Ty for the prompt!! I've been thinking about Fenhawke post DAV, and I think I'll put a little series of snippets from my thoughts into some Fenhawke prompts on Tumblr for @dadrunkwriting! This will be #1, and I'll link the rest (so feel free to send more Fenhawke prompts, folks!) Under a cut, because Veilguard spoilers. Vague, but still there.

Night had given way to the sharp edge of a winter dawn while Fenris sat in the chair beside the frost-painted window. He had no idea how long he’d been sitting there, but he hadn’t slept even a moment of the long, dark night. He could feel the circles under his eyes, the skin heavy, his vision blurry with exhaustion. Even as he blinked and scrubbed his face with a hand trembling from the abundance of coffee he’d consumed, the reason for his vigil stirred in the bed several feet away. Something unknotted in Fenris’s chest as Hawke stretched his arms over his head, curled one around the pillow that should have been Fenris’s, and pulled it closer. He buried his face in it, shoulders shifting with the inhalation of breath. Just as quickly, he saw those same muscles tense, stiffen, and then the pillow was shoved aside. Hawke shot up in bed, the blankets pooling at his waist, exposing so many scars across his torso. Some Fenris remembered. Others he thought were new, but he wasn’t ready to ask. Their eyes met and it was like Hawke had taken a punch to the gut; the air rushed out of his lungs and his shoulders slumped. A look of chagrin replaced the naked fear on his handsome face and he tried to fit a smile onto his lips. “You’re still here,” he said, taking another deep breath. He’d said the same thing the morning before, and the one prior to that. “Still here,” Fenris promised again, finally rising from his chair, stiff muscles protesting. He crossed to the bed and sat down on the edge, and they looked at one another. It still felt like a dream. It had been ten years since Fenris had received that letter in Kirkwall, since he’d burned Varric’s story into his mind. Hawke, the man he loved, left in the Fade. Left behind in the one place Fenris could not reach him. And then the Blight had come, and the world had been poisoned, and the Veil ripped asunder. He’d read another tale in a letter from the Inquisitor, about another death, and another prison in the Fade, and the woman who'd freed herself from it. The Inquisitor had borne a bone-deep regret for Hawke’s loss that may not have rivaled Fenris’s, but it drove them both to the same end; into the Fade, into Nightmare’s prison. Hawke reached out for him with one hand and Fenris took it, sighing with relief when he felt the mortal warmth enclose his fingers. The tightness in Hawke’s features smoothed as well at the contact. “Ten years,” Hawke murmured, blue-gray eyes searching his face. “It seemed like…days. Weeks maybe. In there. And yet after all this time, you remembered me.” Fenris squeezed his fingers. “You were always on my mind,” he promised, feeling an answering weight in his chest. “Every day.” Hawke nodded, eyes flicking to the window. The look on his face reminded Fenris of how he’d felt just after escaping Danarius—free but unsure what to do with it, unsure if it would last. It was why panic flooded Hawke when he woke, until they touched, and why Fenris couldn’t sleep. A need to make sure it was all still real.

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

I really really like the part of the Fade prison where you see everyone's little curios floating behind the statue of your companion. it's such a great little detail to me so of course I went into photomode to get a better look, and heres the details!

This is an overhead shot as you continue further up the path, but the pics I took of each item were from the bottom next to the statue.

Harding: a vase of flowers, and plants growing in soil

Davrin: his armchair where he sits and whittles, with a bone on the floor for Assan

Emmrich: a bookshelf of scrolls and skulls (which we can remember aren't just decor, but spirits he can call upon and talk to if he wants)

Bellara: the Nadas Dirthalen, open to reveal its secrets, a book floating above it

Taash: a dragon statue surrounded by treasure, and those firepots they can activate/blow up with their flame breath

Neve: her bulletin board for a case with lots of notes, books, and papers around

Lucanis: his elaborate coffee service and tray. Hopefully all the coffee didn't spill out as it floated away...

[wardensantoineandevka]

I will admit I'm a little salty that people, in an effort to prove that there is no good dialogue in Veilguard at all, keep comparing mission exposition to the high point narrative set pieces of prior games. I agree that some of the writing related to plot mechanics and mission exposition in Veilguard is a little too utilitarian, but that doesn't mean none of the dialogue is good or that prior games didn't also sometimes have this issue here and there.

I also generally dislike when people put the bar for good writing — and all writing too, not even just dialogue writing, ALL writing — at mic-drop sentences that still sound good completely divorced from context, because that really just reduces "good writing" down to like fake-deep philosophizing or witty quips exclusively. sometimes, a really good bit of dialogue sounds like a completely normal sentence out of context.

[icharchivist]

Dalish Inquisitor who never had a proper place to set up roots, always on the move. Yes the Clan is their family, their home, but they yearn for a place to call home, like Arlathan used to be, like the Dales used to be.

Dalish Inquisitor who is slowly making a home out of Haven, slowly feeling like this is a place they can set up some roots. One of the old Magisters of Tevinter takes this home away. As his people have done before. The Mages of Tevinter or the Templars who destroy any magic, and the Blight, destroying their home, like all of those destroyed their home in the past.

Dalish Inquisitor who feels at home in Skyhold. Who finally is putting down roots. "it's their fortress". Corypheus attacks again but this time it resists. It stands.

Dalish Inquisitor who walks all over Orlais and in Halamshiral where their people used to have roots. All of it belongs to pompous nobles now. This home can never be a home again.

Dalish Inquisitor who is asked to conform with the Chantry either by disbanding or by joining it: but either way, by giving up Skyhold.

There is never a home for the Dalish Inquisitor. Only the same people as ever stealing their home. They move from one place to the next, like their clan used to do when things became dangerous.

In hatred and in worship it is always the same: there is no place to call home. Only its people. But the roots, they yearn.

[gwinaesfer]

Realistically how could one go about having Cole in Veilguard because I really want him in my rewrite but I need a better reason than "I like him and I want him there"

[delicate-paint-stained-daffodils]

After almost 24 hours of drawing this I have developed an intense love hate relationship with the lighthouse’s music room windows. They were a pain to draw. They are so pretty. I hope never to lay my eyes upon them again. I will be gazing at them lovingly for an eternity.

Also Solavellan is here or something, idk man. I’m really invested in these windows. (But also omg hi!! 👋 hello Solavellan <3)

[vaguely-concerned]

I keep imagining the whole 'I'm still here sequence from treasure planet' scenario that must have gone down between rye and varric before the game starts and rye with their wide newly hopeful eyes like 'boy hope no one weaponizes this rare warm safe nurturing relationship in my life that makes me feel real and alive for the first time in so long against me in some of the cruelest and most premeditated ways imaginable somewhere down the line because that would sort of wreck me as a person maybe'. and then I don't feel so bad about where I'm headed

[catebees]

11 for Acacia? :)

BIG BIG VEILGUARD SPOILERS - ESPECIALLY THE ISLE OF THE GODS QUEST AND ITS RESULTS

codex prompts: 11. your OC’s description of their game’s events

Acacia's journal - Day ??

(translated from nevarran)

Need to focus.

We don't have much time and I can't go mad now,  that'll have to wait.

THINGS THAT ARE TRUE:

- Elgar'nan is in Minrathous

- So is Solas

- Solas is fighting Elgar'nan (with the Shadow Dragons)

- Solas trapped me in his "prison" to free himself

- I was in there for days weeks? UNCLEAR

- Solas was stuck in there for SEVERAL MONTHS

- Solas is weaker than me *

- NOBODY HATES ME OR RESENTS ME **

- Taash calls me Taarala now

- everybody's ready to get this done

- Lucanis is alive

- Taash is alive

- Emmrich is alive

- Neve is alive

- Davrin is alive

- Bellara hasn't been found yet

- Lace is dead

- Varric is has been dead.

*not factually proven. yet.

** asked them, i believe them.

[robinsnest2111]

time to hyperfocus my way back into being That Girlie (gender neutral) that gets shit done while looking pretty and taking care of his mortal flesh and surroundings!!!

[cityandking]

doing lucanis' inner demons quest and Wow this is so truthsbait

[constellation-sapphic]

Just went onto twitter for the first time in a while and got jumpscared by dream stans actually still existing there

[sbcdh]

You know where the word cocaine comes from? Its Quechua. Just the name of the damn plant. I think it was 1971, maybe 72. I dunno- 

Could you start at the beginning?

Huh? Yeah, sure. Course. Uhh. Lets see…

Take your time. 

Woof. Lets see…I started in uhhh, 72. Some tiny little bottle-rocket firm sweatin for talent, head broker was this big red fatass named Ron Spade, hell of a guy, but the place got bought out by Bear Stearns in 73 when the shit really hit the fan. It was a rough time to be on a trade floor. IRS just put out the whole hypnoeconomics thing. Half the big firms were runnin’ around with their hair on fire, the other half felt invincible. Every day was a party. Party party party. 

Was that your first interaction with hypnostimulants? 

I guess. Its funny. First guy to give me quori was a cop. 

You mean an agent of the FDA? 

No no, like an old fashioned NYPD beat cop. Met him in the bathroom at Pink during a bender. Moron was so faded he thought I was his informant. Just gave me a phial. 

And you tried it?

Not right away no. To be honest I thought it was kinda faggy. Sorry. Its just what I thought at the time. The shit was sparkly, you know? What kinda drug comes in phials? Shoulda known something was up. 

Would you say hypnostimulants were popular at the time? 

At the time? Depends what you mean by popular. People didn’t know about that shit yet. You heard stories, dudes shooting up in the woods upstate, gettin found with their eyeballs exploded. It was early days, ya know? But like, that didn’t happen. That was urban legends. You know who was actually fucking around with the early stuff? Accountants. 

Accountants?

Yeah, you know, the bookkeepers. See,  I’m really just a plumber. I move money from one pipe to another pipe. But instead of wrenches and sprockets or whatever, I use charm. Its pretty easy if you ask me. Imagine if you could just tell water where it already wanted to go. You’re water’s best pal. Nah. It was those nerds in the basement, the spreadsheet guys that figured out how to expense shit so the IRS couldn’t get ya. Those were the fuckers who really dove in. 

What got you using regularly? 

Same shit as everyone else. Makes the job easier. 

How so?

You can feel the money in their pocket. Its like, I dunno how to describe it. Its like…Its like, a turd sitting in a hammock. You can feel how the money bends everything around it. You can see it, smell it. You can hear it over the phone. You can’t ignore it. Shit is nuts. You take enough, and its like you can’t see anything else. Or. No. Its like…You see that you don’t need to see anything else. Money is everything. You’re money. I’m money. Its all just rivers of money flowing through everything. 

By 1973 you were a regular user yes?

Regular makes it sound normal. But yeah I know what you mean. “Regular user.”  76 was the sweet spot. The drugs were good, but the regulators hadn’t stepped up yet. You and some buddies could set up in a club bathroom with nothing but a blindfold and a pile. You ever seen a stock floor with a headfull of that fancy government shit? 

Would you like to discuss the raid? 

No. Not really. 

I understand you were the only one in a sub-emmanation state when Hypnoregulators arrived on the scene. 

I don't want to talk about it. 

Very well then, my associate will be happy to take you to prison as per the agreement you signed. 

Alright alright, Christ. 

Please. In your own words. 

From what I understand, you pulled spade outta bed. Got a confession and everything that morning. 9 fuckin AM, and 200 IRS agents come busting in the doors. I was in the bathroom seeing shit. It's marble lined, lots gold filigree. All that jazz. Special made. Listen. I'm serious about the stock floor shit. Whatever you guys have, it's different than what we had back then. I mean, the shit was still cut with cocaine. A stock floor wasn't a stock floor, it was like…

The raid, please. 

I'm getting to it! You gotta know this shit okay? I need you to understand what you goons fuckin wrecked. It was perfect okay? A garden of Eden . Ripe fruit. Everything just works. You don't have to worry about shit. You're a hunter, a killer, the great fuckin god pan, and the floor is your field of delights. It's like being a beating heart, like being struck by lightning. You can feel the sun in your pocket, and how it's all flowing through everything. And then you fucks showed up. 

It was cold. I felt it first. Like I just threw the biggest party, and mom and dad were coming home early. But you know what I saw? You know those Chinese dragon dancers? Or, lions, or whatever they are? You know how there's two guys in the costume? I saw a dragon, a beast with eyes like the sun, teeth dripping gold, a bunch of IRS suits holding its pelt on their shoulders like you carry your baby home. 

Your statement alluded to some additional information. 

Yeah…there was something else… I dunno how to describe it. The fuckin…eyes, like the sun. Thats how you feel when you're on this shit. You're seein’ gold. I looked into the dragons eyes, and it's like, it's like I saw me. Like I was the dragon, and I was looking at me. Or…no. I was the sun. I was looking at myself. It was like, in that moment I knew something. I learned something. 

What exactly is that?

I dunno. It doesn't fit into words. But like. You aren't regulating shit. 

I'm sorry? 

Yeah. All this shit. The dragon. The field. The dancers. It's all just the sun.

[antivanwine14]

I love how soft the Rookanis relationship is and how so much of their relationship is about caring for each other. A lot of the early Rook 'flirts' are less actual flirting and more them expressing concern about Lucanis's well being. Rook doesn't want to leave Lucanis alone because of Spite, Rook is happy that Lucanis survived, etc. Rook cares well before the relationship starts and that becomes the core of their romance.

Lucanis is the same way even if it takes longer to show because of his own personal issues (though not entirely, if you are playing as Rook De Riva, when Rook talks about disappointing the Crows, Lucanis comforts and encourages them). Lucanis tries to flirt, be like his cousin, but that isn't what he is comfortable with and it falls apart. It takes Lucanis starting to work through his issues and being his authentic self for the relationship to actually start and authentic Lucanis wants to take care of people (as established with his grocery shopping and cooking).

The whole pastry scene shows that. It is small but it is him being real and wanting to do something just for Rook. Additionally, while Rook could play off the fade prison stuff with jokes and stoicism, the scene really does lean towards Rook being vulnerable and Lucanis getting to take care of them, to support the person who has done so much to support him. Even Lucanis's other romantic lines about killing all the blighted creatures, fighting the gods, etc. is all about him wishing to keep Rook safe.

Their relationship is all supporting and caring for the other one. It is soft and gentle and works so well for the pair who have been through so much.

[cryptotheism]

You know where the word cocaine comes from? Its Quechua. Just the name of the damn plant. I think it was 1971, maybe 72. I dunno- 

Could you start at the beginning?

Huh? Yeah, sure. Course. Uhh. Lets see…

Take your time. 

Woof. Lets see…I started in uhhh, 72. Some tiny little bottle-rocket firm sweatin for talent, head broker was this big red fatass named Ron Spade, hell of a guy, but the place got bought out by Bear Stearns in 73 when the shit really hit the fan. It was a rough time to be on a trade floor. IRS just put out the whole hypnoeconomics thing. Half the big firms were runnin’ around with their hair on fire, the other half felt invincible. Every day was a party. Party party party. 

Was that your first interaction with hypnostimulants? 

I guess. Its funny. First guy to give me quori was a cop. 

You mean an agent of the FDA? 

No no, like an old fashioned NYPD beat cop. Met him in the bathroom at Pink during a bender. Moron was so faded he thought I was his informant. Just gave me a phial. 

And you tried it?

Not right away no. To be honest I thought it was kinda faggy. Sorry. Its just what I thought at the time. The shit was sparkly, you know? What kinda drug comes in phials? Shoulda known something was up. 

Would you say hypnostimulants were popular at the time? 

At the time? Depends what you mean by popular. People didn’t know about that shit yet. You heard stories, dudes shooting up in the woods upstate, gettin found with their eyeballs exploded. It was early days, ya know? But like, that didn’t happen. That was urban legends. You know who was actually fucking around with the early stuff? Accountants. 

Accountants?

Yeah, you know, the bookkeepers. See,  I’m really just a plumber. I move money from one pipe to another pipe. But instead of wrenches and sprockets or whatever, I use charm. Its pretty easy if you ask me. Imagine if you could just tell water where it already wanted to go. You’re water’s best pal. Nah. It was those nerds in the basement, the spreadsheet guys that figured out how to expense shit so the IRS couldn’t get ya. Those were the fuckers who really dove in. 

What got you using regularly? 

Same shit as everyone else. Makes the job easier. 

How so?

You can feel the money in their pocket. Its like, I dunno how to describe it. Its like…Its like, a turd sitting in a hammock. You can feel how the money bends everything around it. You can see it, smell it. You can hear it over the phone. You can’t ignore it. Shit is nuts. You take enough, and its like you can’t see anything else. Or. No. Its like…You see that you don’t need to see anything else. Money is everything. You’re money. I’m money. Its all just rivers of money flowing through everything. 

By 1973 you were a regular user yes?

Regular makes it sound normal. But yeah I know what you mean. “Regular user.”  76 was the sweet spot. The drugs were good, but the regulators hadn’t stepped up yet. You and some buddies could set up in a club bathroom with nothing but a blindfold and a pile. You ever seen a stock floor with a headfull of that fancy government shit? 

Would you like to discuss the raid? 

No. Not really. 

I understand you were the only one in a sub-emmanation state when Hypnoregulators arrived on the scene. 

I don't want to talk about it. 

Very well then, my associate will be happy to take you to prison as per the agreement you signed. 

Alright alright, Christ. 

Please. In your own words. 

From what I understand, you pulled spade outta bed. Got a confession and everything that morning. 9 fuckin AM, and 200 IRS agents come busting in the doors. I was in the bathroom seeing shit. It's marble lined, lots gold filigree. All that jazz. Special made. Listen. I'm serious about the stock floor shit. Whatever you guys have, it's different than what we had back then. I mean, the shit was still cut with cocaine. A stock floor wasn't a stock floor, it was like…

The raid, please. 

I'm getting to it! You gotta know this shit okay? I need you to understand what you goons fuckin wrecked. It was perfect okay? A garden of Eden . Ripe fruit. Everything just works. You don't have to worry about shit. You're a hunter, a killer, the great fuckin god pan, and the floor is your field of delights. It's like being a beating heart, like being struck by lightning. You can feel the sun in your pocket, and how it's all flowing through everything. And then you fucks showed up. 

It was cold. I felt it first. Like I just threw the biggest party, and mom and dad were coming home early. But you know what I saw? You know those Chinese dragon dancers? Or, lions, or whatever they are? You know how there's two guys in the costume? I saw a dragon, a beast with eyes like the sun, teeth dripping gold, a bunch of IRS suits holding its pelt on their shoulders like you carry your baby home. 

Your statement alluded to some additional information. 

Yeah…there was something else… I dunno how to describe it. The fuckin…eyes, like the sun. Thats how you feel when you're on this shit. You're seein’ gold. I looked into the dragons eyes, and it's like, it's like I saw me. Like I was the dragon, and I was looking at me. Or…no. I was the sun. I was looking at myself. It was like, in that moment I knew something. I learned something. 

What exactly is that?

I dunno. It doesn't fit into words. But like. You aren't regulating shit. 

I'm sorry? 

Yeah. All this shit. The dragon. The field. The dancers. It's all just the sun. 

[mayday2007]

When Daryl Dixon first lays his eyes on you at the quarry, he doesn't quite know what to do with himself. He sees you, all flustered and a little scared, having tumbled from the forest straight into their camp, and everything around him just goes silent.

He's never felt like this before, never felt the strange warmth begining to spread from his stomach up through his chest until time itself slows down when he looks you dead in the eyes. His surroundings fade into a blur of colours and all he can focus on is you. He's beginning to wonder if he accidentally inhaled some of that stuff Merle was sniffing a few hours back.

"Yeah,tha's it." He thougt. 'S jus' a lil drugs 's all."

As the day goes by, he has this need to talk to you but he just can't seem to find the courage. So, he just sits outside his tent, watching the other girls around the camp all fawn over how pretty you are, and he can't help but think the same.

"She is kinda cute." He thought to himself. "Whatcha talkin' bout baby brother?" Merle asked from behind him, startling Daryl a bit. "Nothin', 'sides, ain't yer damn business wha' the hell 'm thinkin' bout anyway." Daryl said gruffly to his older brother,cheeks a dusty pink. Guess he was thinking a little too hard.

That night,as everyone is gathered around the fireplace eating canned soups, Daryl sits next to you, and the entire group is stunned. Ever since Daryl came to the group at around the first week of the apocalypse, he has preferred to eat in his tent, leaving everyone else to worry about his brother.

You stayed there long after the last person went to bed with Daryl by your side, growing ever curious about you. Because in the time you had been at the camp, you hadn't said a word. He looked at you, but when you sighed he looked away, wondering if you had silently caught him for staring, then he blushes with embarrassment knowing himself that he was starting at you. "You just gonna sit there and stare at me till I go to bed or are you gonna tell me your name?"

Daryl whipped he head around to look at you. And to his utter surprise, you were looking him dead in the eyes, smirking up at him. "Y-you talkin' to me?" He asked incredulously. "No, I'm talking to him over there." You said, pointing behind Daryl. He turned his head to see where you were pointing, to see not a soul standing there. When you started laughing, he turned his attention back to you, the melodic sound soothing his ears. "Of course I'm talking to you, silly. There's nobody else up." You laughed, but there was nothing malicious behind it, so Daryl found himself chuckling a bit.

"Daryl." He said gruffly, looking at you and admiring your beautiful features. "My name's Daryl. What about you?" He asked, hoping he hadn't overstepped any boundaries. "My name is y/n, pleased to meet you." You held out your hand for him to shake, and he was a bit taken back by your straightforwardness. He clasped his hand in yours and shook it, blushing slightly at the difference in size.

When the quarry got overrun and the group headed to the farm, Daryl made sure that you were by his side the whole way. He made sure to take you hunting with him, and when he went looking for Sofia, you insisted that you accompany him. And when Andrea accidentally shot him, he was looking up from being helped inside to see you marching towards her, landing a punch on her face, and he couldn't help but be proud of you.

Then the farm got overrun by walkers and you were both separated. Daryl was distraught, thinking you had been bitten or killed. But, when Rick, Carl, Hershel and himself got reunited with Maggie, Beth and you, he had to hold back tears as he ran to you, swiftly sweeping you off your feet in a massive bear hug. He repeatedly asked you if you were okay and if you had any injuries, and it made you giggle slightly at his protectiveness. The time that Lori was pregnant leading up to the prison was hard for the whole group, but having you by his side 24/7 made Daryl feel slightly at ease.

When you lot found the prison, he made sure to keep you near him even more. You both shared a cell, him on the top bunk and you on the bottom. You both grew closer to one another the more time you spent together. One time, Daryl managed to find a bottle of whiskey and you both downed it in one night, telling eachother stories about your lives before the fall. In the morning, Daryl woke up to you still soundly asleep on his chest. He blushed and frantically thought of a way to get you off him whilst keeping you asleep, but he eventually just went back to sleep himself, being too comfortable to move.

After the prison fell, you were with Daryl the whole time along with Beth. You three found the cabin with the moonshine and decided to drink some. Two or three glasses each later, Beth fell asleep, her body curled up beside you as you and Daryl continued to talk until you felt sleepy. Daryl came and sat next to you so you could lay your head on his shoulder, him falling asleep not long after.

When the group found terminus, you were taken into the slaughter house along with Daryl, Rick, Glenn and the other men that had been kidnapped. Daryl was more concerned for you, having been the one to barge one of the men who was going to slit your throat off you before he had the chance. You all made it out alive and Daryl held your hand and refused to let go.

The group eventually found Alexandria, having a safe place to finally call home, Daryl finally confessed his feelings for you while you were in a meadow close by. He picked you a daisy and put it in your hair, a sweet gesture that made you giggle, and it sort of just slipped out.

"I really like ya," he said, his cheeks going a pinky red colour after he realised what he said. "Really?" You asked, sweeping some of his hair out of his eyes. "Y-yeah, yeah I do. In fact, I don' jus' like ya, I love ya. I love ya so much, darlin', ya have no idea." You smiled and leaned in, your noses touching as you could feel his hot breath fanning over your lips. "I love you too Daryl, more than you'll ever know." You then punctuated your sentence with a kiss.

A few months later you were married (yes, married), and a few months after that you were carrying his child. Then there was another child. And another. Soon, you and Daryl had the perfect life, a lovely home, three beautiful children and a dog.

( And a cat that Daryl would always say he hated. "Told ya woman, I ain't a fanna cats." But would later be found snuggled with his three kids on the couch in the living room after dinner with said cat on his chest. )

[veatomis]

Filling out every rook questionnaire i come across because another thing i hate is not necessarily how bland rook is but just how they're disconnected to their setting. I remember in inquisition when after hitting an approval threshold with a companion u would get to discuss your friendship with them and they would talk abt you or they would react to things you did while remembering YOU did them while in veilguard i maxxed out pretty much everybody's relationship and yet i only got to talk to the companions about THEIR issues and never what rook might be feeling or thinking while going thru all of that.