#Thread: Ogden Thorne

[lcgacyofages]

@uvher | Nuven'in to Ogden:

That a human stood before her was intriguing. Nuven'in had not seen such a being in millennia, not since before she'd become more. A wry smile pulled her lips as she took in his stance. "My, my. Do you greet all the women you meet with staff in hand?"

The Caretaker had asked for them to track down the sources of the Blight in the Crossroads, sent by the gods to seek out the Lighthouse and Solas's network they were now utilizing. Ogden was aware traveling in such a place had its unique dangers, his Harrowing coming to mind.

So finding the small eluvian was peculiar, to say the least. And where it went was something else entirely.

And he hadn't expected a elven woman to be on the other side. Yet he was aware to keep his wits about him.

"I'm an equal opportunity sort," he said, a slight smirk to his lips yet guard remaining up slightly. He put his hand up to give his companions a signal to lower theirs slightly. Needed to assess what this was. "So, not just women. Men and others, as well."

[lcgacyofages]

"I'll check on you in a little bit, then, see if you need something," Ogden said with a nod. "I'm sure Lucanis is working on something as we speak. I'm sure he wouldn't mind me bringing you a plate by before serving dinner."

He shook his head. "Don't apologize for things out of your control. Things like this happen."

With that, he gave a nod, heading out to check on the others and see what needed to be worked on.

"I'm sure eventually I'll need food and something to drink, but until then I think the worst injury is to my pride," a smile on her face. Herself a decent mage fighter able to hold her own against Darkspawn, Demons, and cultist, but felled by gravity.

Her nose scrunched up at the idea of an ankle breaking. She'd seen them before, and they could be gruesome and nasty things to heal with all the little bones. The pressure of the boot being removed caused the scrunched face and a held breath for a moment before a long release of breath.

She smiled a bit as she rested the foot on a pillow, "I'm sure I will as well. I just rolled it pretty badly. I can use my ice magic to keep it nice and frosty to prevent the swelling from getting any worse."

She paused for a moment as she wiggled her toes to make sure it was moving okay. "Thank you, again. Sorry for interrupting your training in the yard."

[montpahrnah]

First lines meme!

List the first lines of your last 20 stories. See if there are any patterns. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

tagged by the lovely @huldrejenta <3<3<3 i know you’re supposed to do 20 stories but i’m only doing 10 because, as u can see, some of these qualify as about five sentences entirely on their own:

1. Somewhere in the Pennines he realized he was alive again. (Never Quarantine the Past, Sirius, Remus)

2. A month after they moved in, Sirius’s cigarettes disappeared. (Lethe and Mnemosyne, Sirius/Remus)

3. In sunny retrospect Tonks supposed she should’ve seen it coming so of course she didn’t. (Six Penny, Seven Stone, Fleur/Tonks)

4. She came to Kirkwall after a few months of slumming unhappily at an inn in Markham, looking out across the unforgiving teeth of the Vimmarks from her window when she dragged herself out of bed at noon every day and feeling some centrifugal tug stretched ineffably across the two hundred miles or so to the west, like she’d left something there and she couldn’t go anywhere without a constant pang in her gut like hunger unsated and gnawing to remind of her of what she’d not so much lost as knowingly and willingly burnt down into the bowels of the red earth. (The Undiscovered Country, female Hawke/Isabela)

5. By 2002, when everything had begun at last to settle into more of the same, she was living in a rundown two-bedroom house with crumbling white brick in the Gog Magog Hills, subsumed almost entirely by ivy at the end of a winding lane which was itself overgrown with veiny morning glories and cow parsley, where she could see the crenellated teeth of the city from the kitchen window when she had coffee in the mornings. (Fields Beyond Fields, Padma, Parvati)

6. She wasn’t going to do it, not with Luna there—it’s the weekend before she’s supposed to embark on some frigid expedition to Antarctica armed with a research grant and a few very fine threads of hope—but Harry isn’t home until six, and she’d left James and Albus with her mother in Devon for the day, and they’re both already eyeing the half-empty bottle of Ogden’s Old on top of the fridge with such an ardent longing that Ginny decides there is no time like the present to divine the uncertain state of her traitorous fucking uterus. (Skirt Full of Thorns, Ginny/Luna, Ginny/Pansy)

7. He read once that human beings are predisposed to record their own history, some ancient, errant impulse thrumming in electric waves across the landscape of the mind that compels us to kick and scream and make a fuss with ink and alphabets until we’ve left a sufficient enough mark on blank pages or vandalized outside of dingy London pubs for all the discerning patrons to see. (Like Tinder for Ghosts, Sirius/Remus)

8. The old brass alarm clock on Remus’s nightstand reads two-thirty when he opens his eyes in the dark of drought-scorched July, curled beneath a cotton-blue sheet on the last night in London. (Amateur Cartography, Sirius/Remus)

9. Sometime midway through his fourth vodka in front of the bathroom mirror, Remus’s mind finally gives up its charade of relative sanity and cracks right down the middle. (Elucidation Practice, Sirius/Remus)

10. The greatest woman Isabela ever knew was a grey-haired Rivaini sailor who sat with her on the Llomerryn docks the night of her wedding when the moon was a red, red scythe above the water, hung jagged at the base of the horizon like a knife to a throat, bleeding the pinpricks of the stars from the sky. (All the White Horses, female Hawke/Isabela)

patterns:  i made a switch from present tense to past tense last fall after having a TRULY abysmal writing year for most of 2016, so there’s a definite gulf between older/newer stories in that regard, but my style itself hasn’t really changed. lately i’ve been going for marginally shorter opening sentences, but while i was doing this i noticed that the sentence immediately following is usually a fucking decathlon anyway, so i’m not sure if it really counts. the real takeaway here is that i have poor impulse control and LOVE dramatics and run-on sentences and have zero interest in doing anything about it.

tagging @alwaysalreadyangry @impossible-bbd @fireferns @zeiat @sunspeared @todisturbtheuniverse @radialarch @holyfant @nightsofllyn @polytony @ababelofprose @chocochipbiscuit and anyone else who sees this and wants to do it!

[lcgacyofages]

Open to: Mutuals Setting: Lavendel, Hossburg Wetlands Notes: Set after the Siege of Weisshaupt, featuring Ogden's ex-situationship, Domitius, a Grey Warden warrior from Tevinter

The remains of the Order was not the numbers it had been. The loss at Weisshaupt was a blow, but every warden was prepared for the end. Prepared for a death, whether in battle or in the Deep Roads. A warden's life was not a long one, considering the lucky ones made it to thirty years after the Joining. The unlucky? Five years, maybe.

But it still stung to see what was left in Lavendel. Ogden searched for familiar faces. Tomasz and Sasha made it and were setting up as he would expect them to. At least they were making things work in Lavendel—

"Ogden," the Tevene accented voice drew his attention. Domitius Pervica. It had been a while since he had seen him. His brown hair was longer, pulled back and out of his face. Dark grey eyes glimmered out of a tanned face, stubble littering across his jaw.

"Domitius," Ogden greeted, holding his arm out for the shorter man to take in greeting, both gripping the other's forearm before releasing.

"Maker, you're just as attractive as ever, aren't you?" Domitius gave a smirk at the pointed look he got. "Bonus points for knocking Glastrum out, though."

"Of course you saw that," Ogden sighed. "Good to see you living. We need everyone we can get." They might have a history, but Ogden knew he was a damn good fighter.

"Is that the only reason you're happy to see me?" There it was. The suggestion in his tone.

"Yeah, that's really it." Blunt and to the point. Didn't really need an old mistake coming back up.

Domitius reached out, putting his hand on Ogden's arm, taking a step closer and into territory which spoke of a familiarity. "You know—"

"We've work to do, Domitius." As if on cue, Ogden heard the sound of someone else nearing. He turned his head to see who it was, taking a step back from Domitius.

[lcgacyofages]

"I am aware of the Dalish and the skillset they tend to have with woodworking," Ogden pointed out with a grin. That was why he knew it had easily been a ploy by the young woman to get to spend more time with Davrin. He had seen Dalish art himself, even wearing a wooden pendant crafted by Dalish hands.

"I'm sure you'd be thrilled to teach Lucanis." Sarcasm dripped from his words, a teasing glimmer in his eye.

"I have to give her credit, though, she's not very shy about...Asking for additional woodworking lessons." He decided to let the euphemism stand. "Most people her age tend to be a bit shy about it." Ogden did want to make sure everything was fine, as well. She was bold but so was Davrin. Maybe it was a decent mix.

Davrin sighed again. He really should just shut the fuck up, shouldn't he? Of course, Ogden wouldn't let him get away with that. And shutting up probably wouldn't end his torture. Just delay the inevitable.

"Not really lessons. She's Dalish, Rook. She knows the basics of wood carving." Although she had pretended not to, that first moment together. Of course, that wasn't something he needed to share with Ogden.

He was just going to ignore the one-on-one part of Rook's sentence. "And it's something we can do together. Keeps the hands busy while you chat." As long as you didn't cut a thumb off, anyway. "I'd be happy to teach anyone else if they wanted."

Well, happy was a strong word. Depended on who it was.

[lcgacyofages]

@fadewalking continued from here "And you are reckless and small-minded." Solas shrugged simply. "We all have our vices, I suppose."

Ogden folded his arms, raising his brows in an unimpressed manner. He was one to talk, wasn't he?

"I'm sorry, were you just looking in a mirror? Because it sounds like you just described yourself," he stated. "But it's good of you to admit your flaws. Really shows some growth. Only a bit, mind you, but some."

[lcgacyofages]

Open Post: Ogden Thorne

Open to: Mutuals with companion characters/characters with access to the Lighthouse. (Can be OCs or canon) Setting: Rook's Quarters in the Lighthouse Notes: Ogden tends to go by Rook or Thorne, his first name isn't normally something he introduces himself with. You may use that detail as you see fit.

The letter is sat unopened beside him. The handwriting on it is exquisite, a hand trained in penmanship to impress. It had all the correct flourishes and curves, each one a delicate, stark contrast to the warmth of the paper beneath it. Yet it remained untouched since it arrived.

Laird Ogden Stuart Drumain Senior Warden of the Grey Wardens

He couldn't bring himself to touch it. Very few people knew his given name, let alone his middle family name. He preferred it that way. He had been Warden Thorne for so long, or just Thorne. And now Rook. To see Ogden Stuart Drumain starkly written in such a delicate hand almost felt mocking.

Evka and Antoine, being some of the few who knew his first name, had been able to give it to him, inquiring if it was for him. He had taken it without confirming or denying it. The wax seal was unbroken and had caused his stomach to churn.

It was his family's seal. Were they even still his family? His parents had, essentially, burned him out of the tree. He hadn't spoken to any of them in, what? Twenty-five years? Why now send a letter? The use of the title was another matter, as well.

The sound of a knock on his chamber door drew him from his thoughts, pulling his gaze from the affronting piece of paper.

"Come in," he said, not getting up from the sofa, eyes returning to the letter, still waiting unopened.

[lcgacyofages]

@fatewoven sent: ❛ i haven’t laughed like this in a long time. ❜ / from lucanis to ogden! from &. 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

Ogden couldn't help the warm smile which came across his face at the sound of Lucanis's laughter. Green eyes glimmered with mirth, glad to hear the assassin laugh. Lucanis had had many heavy hands given to him, so to hear him laugh...

It was a good thing.

"I'm glad my tale of my youthful hijinks gave you some amusement," he teased. "Although, the templars at the Circle weren't too happy about my little prank, to say the least."

It was good to have some quiet, a moment of reprieve from everything. It gave them, the team, a chance to get to know each other. And oftentimes, when people got to know each other, they started to work better together as well. And Ogden knew he needed to have that sort of synchronization for this job.

He tilted his head in thought, looking at Lucanis over the glass in his hand.

"You have a nice laugh; I'd like to hear it more."

[lcgacyofages]

@coldjustness continued from bothering Neve about Rana

Ogden couldn't help the smirk coming across his face as she bantered back at him. He folded his arms, leaning against the wall as hazel green eyes watched her in amusement. It wasn't hard to notice the chemistry between Rana and Neve when he had met Rana in Minrathous. He might even have mistaken them for being a couple, if he wasn't aware Neve had the same issue he did.

Married to the job.

"Maybe, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind an evening stake out with you every now and then," Ogden jested lightly. "Could be fruitful for both of you. Might find something interesting if you work together a bit more. You both know the streets well enough, probably better than the people we need information from."

[lcgacyofages]

@uvher: x

"Someone has to," he replied, short and pointed. His eyes had snapped back to the hearth at Ogden's words and he was firmly keeping them there. He certainly wasn't sulking. "You spread yourself thin dealing with everyone else's problems. I need to be sure you're not ready to keel over at a moment's notice." And that was true, if not in the entirety. Lucanis had noticed the way Rook took on the weight of everyone else's burdens: helping Davrin train Assan, helping Bellara overcome the grief in her heart, helping Neve find closure on her most personal case. The list went on. Rook looked after all of them in this way. But who was looking after him?

"And that someone is you?"

He had noticed how Lucanis seemed to take note of when Ogden was, perhaps, working himself a little too much. Not that Ogden ever thought he was, but he had also noticed Lucanis's inability to rest. He made his way to the hearth across from Lucanis, tilting his own head to get a better view of Lucanis's face.

"Because if you want to keep an eye on me, I'll have to do the same in return. Such as your difficult in sleeping and, what, eleven cups of coffee today?"

[lcgacyofages]

@perditus sent: ❝ do you like it here? ❞ Antoine from for muses that are getting to know each other

The Orlesian elf was new, brought in by Evka from a mission. Ogden wasn't entirely surprised by it; Evka did have a bit of a soft heart. Something a few of their fellow wardens desperately needed. What was the point of being a warden if they weren't helping as well as protecting, after all. And while Evka was tasked with another mission, she had asked Ogden to take care of Antoine at Weisshaupt and help with his training.

"I do speak Orlesian," Ogden offered in Antoine's native tongue. "If that would make things more comfortable for you."

Ogden set down his staff, leaning it against the wall and undoing the wrappings around his wrist from the training session. He had just finished with some of the recruits, seeing what their skillsets were and where they would fit best, and how best to train them. It was a quiet moment away from his other duties and the perfect moment for some gentle conversation.

"It is far better than where I came from. But the food could be better." He looked over at Antoine, hazel green eyes examining him. "And you? How are you settling in?"

[lcgacyofages]

Sometimes it was good for Ogden to get himself out from beneath the work he created for himself. He knew very well this was a dangerous game he was playing with beings who far outmatched him in many ways, so each piece had to be carefully considered, thought about, and prepared for. And the Lighthouse gave no solid way to keep track of time, with day and night mingling together in a twisted mix.

Seeing the streams of warm light coming through the buildings of Treviso was a reminder of what time was. And how it never really stopped. It was a reminder of what was waiting for them outside of the sanctuary they found. The streams of light, the sound of people rising for the day, to even the enemies they would need to face.

Lucanis's words brought his thoughts back to their errands, a light, polite smile coming to his features as Lucanis explained.

"The Wardens have a deal with the Dye Masters of Anderfels," he explained. "It's why we have first right to the Anders Azure before it gets sold abroad. We can handle our weaponry well enough, but the textiles is best left in the hands of those trained in those arts."

Ogden's eyes traveled to take in their surroundings again, making note of the people, from Antivan to Antaam, mentally counting out of habit from his training. It was always good to know the amount of people in an area, just in case.

"I'm glad to give company. It gets me away from burying myself in strategizing too much." It was good to have a plan, but it was also good to know how to make plans on the go. And sitting around thinking up a plan could make it harder to come up with one in a pinch. "Depends on the oil," Ogden pointed out. "I'm no good for knowing if we need more cooking oils, but might need some for weapon care, between Davrin and Taash."

Closed starter for @lcgacyofages | Ogden & Lucanis 

           As the sun rose, the ‘City of Crows’ fell into a deep slumber. 

     Treviso went dormant as the candles were extinguished, the sun ray’s illuminating the alleyways in their absence. A calm, nearly blissful silence seemed to envelop the city as her most active residents retreated into their homes. Only the presence of Antaam guards break the illusion of peace, their stares lingering on every individual that passes through. Though Lucanis knew they had to be aware of his identity, neither him nor the Qunari made a move as they passed. 

     In the evening it was easier to blend in, but the Crow had noticed their reluctance to act even as he moved in broad daylight. Their conflict was one of attrition he supposed, a political game of cat and mouse played behind the scenes. 

          “ The Crows have a lot of their work done in-house normally. Or through a deal bargained with another Crow House ” Lucanis explains quietly, carefully maneuvering through the light early morning crowd. “ I imagine the Wardens have similar arrangements, but I have taken to commissioning services outside of the Crows instead. I find their quality to be a little better in many cases ” 

     Inner-House drama aside, the assassin found many benefits from engaging with the local community a bit more. Though their scouts were efficient, the perspective from a local simply offered another type of valuable information. Having his weapons serviced by them simply afforded him a cover for operating out in the open more.            “ Normally I would come alone since it's a small task. But given the situation I think I prefer the company ” He doesn’t mention the demon by name, lucky enough that Spite seemed too ‘bored’ to appear. " Did we have enough oils at the Lighthouse? I did not check "

[lcgacyofages]

@fatedmuses sent: i heard we're on a rotation for cooking. (from Gale to Ogden) from AS SAID BY LUCANIS DELLAMORTE - PARTY BANTER

"You don't want me involved in any cooking rotation," Ogden laughed. He knew where his strengths were and they did not lie in the culinary arts. It wasn't something his parents had pushed for him to learn as a boy, nor something he dealt with in the Circle, and then the Wardens weren't exactly the height of culinary artists. And, with how his taste was...

"But I believe they've got something worked out," he said. "Lucanis and Bellara seem to be handling that work, with Harding wanting to chime in..."

That caused him to wince.

[lcgacyofages]

@fatedmuses sent: could you give me a rundown of what happened? (Elysia @ Ogden, asking about Weisshaupt maybe?) from PROMPTS FOR CHECK INS

"What's there to give a run down of?" He was settled in a chair in the Lighthouse, a rare glass of liquor in his hand. Ogden had managed to get the crew to stop arguing, but now it was himself and his own demons to deal with. He threw the drink back with expert ease, letting out a breath. "The archdemon was killed, but...A lot of other people were too."

A lot of people he had trained with and who he himself had trained. A lot of good people.

The sound of glass shattering as it met the stone wall broke the silence.

"And it's my damn fault," he snarled. "I should have...Come up with some better plan, some way to make sure Lucanis would hit, or some way...I asked too much of everyone. Because I just fucking..."

He was normally good at planning, but the idea never occurred to him how difficult it would be to plan for something like that.

"I have to do better next time."

[lcgacyofages]

@fadewalking sent: “I think you’d better take a break.” - From Emmrich @ Ogden from HURT / COMFORT : STARTERS

Ogden was quite used to thinking on his feet. Doing that had often kept him in good condition for most of his life (sometimes), but he was very much aware of the fact to think on his feet correctly, he needed to have research and knowledge on who he was contending with. Going in blind completely blind never helped anyone.

He had thrown himself into studies and books, planning and theorizing, as soon as there was down time. He had told the others to take the time to relax, but not for him. He was in charge, after all. He was to take care of the team.

Emmrich's words cut through his thoughts, though, pulling him out of the weaving of his mind and more firmly into reality.

"Hm?" He glanced around, knowing there was not a good way to tell time in the Lighthouse. He glanced over to the candle, noting it's notch.

"It's been a few hours then?" He shook his head. "I'm fine, Emmrich. Not the longest I've ever worked."

He ignored how his body argued with that, fatigue trying to set in. But he knew what would happen if he fell asleep and he didn't want to deal with the dreams.

[lcgacyofages]

To weave himself in and out of society, to know the intricate steps of proper social circles, was something which had been beaten into him at a young age. And something he could easily step himself into if need be. Even if he wasn't fond of the idea. The clothing was too tight, too restricting in his movements. The words which danced off their tongues either empty platitudes, or honeyed poison. Take your pick.

But a job needed to be done. And he had a role to play in it. While Lucanis gathered information from behind the scenes, Ogden had to gather it from within the scenes. One would think it was easy, with how people seemed interested in the tall, handsome, well dressed and mannered man, but it was the wrong people being drawn to him. But even that had been something he was able to take note of.

He felt relief at being rescued from another poor conversation, pleased to be whisked away.

"Would've enjoyed it far more if it were you," Ogden told him in a hushed voice. Flirtations for later, though. He rested one arm against the wall, leaning against it to look more like a man in a drunken stupor and not a man using his frame to hide another from view.

"There are a few guards mingling about within the crowd, planted in to look for anyone out of place," he explained. "I'd say about seven or eight. They get wind of anything going on with their boss, they'll be there fast, along with the ones posted."

The night has no shortage of temptations. Not only the traditional ones. Money. Sex. Drugs. Everyone has their vices, Lucanis knows well after years of working in these circles. Some reach for whiskey, and some savour ludicrously-priced highs. Tonight he is the distributor and minder, maybe he can even add therapist to his resume after all the hours spent listening to drunk revelers lay out their life story not unlike spilled intestines after a few glasses. No stranger to tragedies, his upbringing demanding he become the cause of it — widowmaker before he was deemed demon — Lucanis nevertheless has so much patience to spare even whilst undercover as one of the masked, faceless staff. At the scheduled breaks during the evening's programs, he floats by with a tray of wine, deftly spilling some down the shirt of the merchant that was flirting far too much, in his opinion, with a certain handsome warden. He spills the wine, and pins the blame on a nearby drunk noble, using the opportunity to slip closer to @lcgacyofages with a feigned offer of a drink. "Enjoying yourself?" Murmured softly before he asks if Ogden needs to find the privy, acting as if he's one more drunk patron that cannot navigate their way around the building. "The target's on the second floor balcony. Have you found anything of note?"