#coffee with a codex

[upennmanuscripts]

Back in December, 2022, for #CoffeeWithACodex we brought out Ms. Roll 1066 - all 36 feet of it! This is a genealogical chronicle of the kings of England to Edward IV, written in England circa 1461. You can watch the full video on YouTube, and join when we start #CWAC again in September!

Full video:

[bharv]

Help I’m still at the restaurant (nothing inspires me to create as much as bg3 does)

[jelashford]

Espresso: As stocks ran short after Z-day, even the ever-stoic Janine seemed agitated as the last of the beans were used. Depending on stimulants is not a long-term strategy, but when you’re adapting to survive a zombie apocalypse every edge counts. Suffice to say the Ministry delivering on their promise of more beans won a lot of hearts and minds.

[devotion-between-the-wheat]

enemies to lovers, except it's just lu.canis (coffee snob) and my rook (tea drinker)💕

[crownprincessoftherusalkas]

Robin: Y'know, she has some problems, for sure, but I think it's important to-

Amalia: She's also, ugly.

Robin:...Well... okay, well I don't think that was necessary.

[midnightwind]

.... okay fic update after a shower, breakfast, and light harassment of the fiance

[feckyeslife]

Just got the cutscene where Lucanis makes dessert specifically to go with Rook's favorite drink and I'm gonna have to sit down for a minute 🥺🥺🥺

[gnohomotho]

Just a game 𓂃۶ৎ

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Pairing: Hwang In-ho / Front Man x fem!reader

Summary: Just you, your wannabe boyfriend, and the start of an encounter that will change your life. With one phone buzz. Slow burn, but we get there. You are being very cared for. In his own sweet way.

Warnings: Mainly a beginning of something more, mentions of stalking and spying, some rude language, mentions of doctors and blatant violation of the ethical codex. Please have fun! Responsibly.

Link to next chapter: Part 2

"I'd like that very much."

The voice of your companion echoes through the room, flaps against the wall and hits you in the face. It jumps on empty hospital chairs, the doctor's desk, all white and plastic, as dull as whatever the words are dancing on your eardrums with.

You brush your hair behind your ear. All too aware of how mannquine-like and empty the face in front of you looks. Your own head is reverberating. Your lips purse.

"I wouldn't."

The chair under you doesn't move. You wish it would. Carry you away on its little legs. You wonder how chairs could graze freely on some kind of chair-free plane, free from the shackles of architecture---you hear the doctor's words again, and you hear yourself thank them, apologize, plan to take the errant papers and leave the door open behind you. Always planning. Always going away.

"What? Y/N, I...what? Let's talk abou this. Please, stop acting like this! Don't do this to me."

The voice is broken, and you truly do try to care beyond wondering about a chair's natural habitat. Truth be told, all you manage instead of a grand exit is silence. You stand up - silently. You thank the doctor - silently. And you walk out of the door, muttering some native curse words under your breath and pondering whether vending machines truly are as deadly as the statistics say. He made it about himself, again, you think to yourself.

"I can't believe you...no, wait, I fucking can."

You're tired. You feel violated. You would like to crawl into a bed, had you had a safe one to do in. Hug a cat, if you had one. Hug a crow, if you could. Anything.

You mumble to yourself in hushes as you finger the coffee machine, knowing whatever it serves up will just make you feel sick. Your companion is catching up. A tall, imposing kind of boy. Not that it mattered. You never did find pretty boys pretty.

"Boy," you think to yourself. A boy. A boy who can't get his toy to work, and now he's wasted all those friendship tokens and used up all his faces on you, you ungrateful little...

"Y/N, look, what the hell---I really tried, I went all this way, I took you here, I'm just trying to help!"

He really did sound like a little boy tearing at his mother's skirt. His dark black hair fell into his forehead, his neat sweater leaning a bit to the left. You notice his lips and wonder, whatever possessed you to even begin to think of a future with them?

"Help. You wanted to help yourself. Fix your little broken toy and have something to fuck. Did it get tiring? Pretending to care?"

The coffee machine whirred in what you hoped was something of an agreement. You turn around and face the man, boy, whatnot, and try to look put together. Some old couples begin to notice the commotion. An old lady with a dog in her purse is not doing a very good job of looking disinterested in what, ironically, resembles a lover's quarrel.

"Wow, that's low. Y/N. I was there every time. I did so much for you, you didn't have to ask."

"You insisted. You didn't listen to any 'no thank you'. You dragged me here. Every time. Promising you..."

Your lips twist a little in disgust, but mostly, you don't feel anything anymore.

"Promising you love me, with that big "but" of yours. Well, good thing we have it on paper now - I can't love and I can't fuck, I suppose you've bet on the wrong horse - losing in game and losing in love. Fancy that."

God damn it, not the tears, not the tears, you feel your eyes glisten and your stomach tighten. Hair falls from behind your ear, shielding your face. A tear rolls down.

"There's nothing wrong with me, nothing that you could fix by blunt forcing it. I was so stupid, it's my fault. Really truly my fault. I thought...I thought for a moment it could be something it obviously never could...It was never your responsibility to try or to fix anything, and I was so incredibly naive to think you'd adjust pace to something you obviously have no interest in if you can't violate it in a matter of minutes."

Slug and salt. Fire and gasoline. Lungs and carbon monoxide. That's what you are, you think. You don't realise nor would you know, that the whole time, someone was watching you. Someone noticed the way you held your stomach the entire time you spoke, as if shielding and soothing something vulnerable and tender. The way your eyes shone when you stood your ground. The way your pupils seemed to beckon a new visitor with glimpses of a world beyond this one with its unimaginative hospital corridors and dull white waiting rooms. He watched your legs as you held yourself up, seeing the coffee machine did half the work. He watched them buckle a little bit and you adjust. Your tights reflected the light, just as you did. His eyes trailed up to your skirt, your hands, your waist. Your hands, he found those most beautiful. They spoke with you. They had the fingers of a piano player and the fervour of a boxer losing a match.

Now they rested on your stomach again, shielding. Your body closed off once more. Your voice became more monotone. He could gather from the hushed whispers that this wasn't your boyfriend nor husband, but in a place like this - perhaps an ex? Or soon to be, he smiled the most innocent of hidden smiles before resuming a neutral, dignified expression. A baby's father? You did rest your hand on your stomach quite a bit...but the conversation you had in front of him wasn't enough. Now he was intrigued.

The way your lips pursed and remained a tad open when you thought of what to say, the way your eyes narrowed and your mouth made a perfect tiny shape when you found your words. Things you'd never think about yourself, oh, he was intrigued.

Intrigued by the girl with the long fingers and the gentle touch. The girl with fire in her eyes that draws you into the depths of a frozen river in the middle of the night and never makes you wish to leave.

How convenient was it that some people have the power to pull a few strings and Waltz into the very same doctor's office you walked out of and Waltz straight out again with your full medical records.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You were walking home when your phone buzzed. You thought you blocked your ex-companion, you checked the messages and yes - his communication, circular and either blaming you or himself were still safely stored in the same blocked folder. No, this was an uknown number that you couldn't even see.

"Seriously?"

You sigh into the cold evening air and adjust your stance for a better look at the phone screen. An odd, jittery, almost chilly feeling envelops you and you shiver - that sensation of being watched washes around you and touches your skin. Going up and down your arms and calves. Stopping at your chest. You look around, but there is only dusk, cold, melted snow. A few lights from other houses. A streetlamp here and there. Nobody. You lean your head into the phone again, stepping away from the road you were walking on.

"How are you feeling, Y/N?"

The chill shot through your calves straight into your stomach and through your ribs to your head. It's him again, just a different number, of course. Oldest trick in the book. You wonder if you should reply, but think better of giving him further attention. Just as you put your phone away, it buzzes again.

"You seem cold."

You turn your head and scan every single shape around you, chills shaking your body as you do. This wasn't funny. This was so far from funny you are actively wondering where you left your pepperspray and whether or not setting a match to your deodorant would do the trick, should it come to it.

"I'm fine, leave me alone, stop texting me from other numbers, I know it's you." You quickly type trying to watch the surroundings more than the screen. It buzzes almost immediately back at you.

"I'm not him. And you seem cold. Tights and a skirt in your condition, walking alone in the dark and the snow. It isn't very wise, is it?"

Although text messages don't convey tone, you can feel the patronising air and boundary tear emanating from your screen. You hurry your legs to get out and back home as fast as you can.

"Please don't run in your condition. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

"Fuck off." You whisper and break into a sprint. You don't hear steps or running behind you, you don't hear cars or anything but the sounds of the night. But a calm shrill sound does break the silence the moment you stop to catch your breath - that familiar buzz. Almost at home, almost--

"And please, if you may be so kind, don't dissobey me."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

In-ho wasn't omnipotent nor could he predict your movements, listen in on your thoughts, or stalk you without issue.

He knew he'd lose you if he gave himself away. He knew he'd scare you if he revealed all he knew and he was enough of a gentleman to understand the basics of what constitutes harrassment and stalking.

In-ho was also in control. Always in control. Of people, of power, of his surroundings, of the entire games. And of course. Of himself. And if he wasn't, if he started to slip, he would relinquish that control by any means neccessary.

As he told himself now, it's nothing. Just a game. Just a bit of back-and-forth and fun. He's not enamoured, he's simply interested.

It's not attraction, it's a need to study.

It's not need, want, feeling - no, it is cold, simple fascination and control.

Cat and mouse. Nothing more.

And he's comfortable in this role, of course. Watching a player from up top, sipping his drink of choice. This is exactly the same. But why does it feel...odd?

His heart. Racing. His hands. Typing. Erasing. Typing. Oh, he wants to show you he knows everything. He wants to show you the plans he is hatching for you. He wants to take you from the cold street and grab you - so tight your breath and heart belong to him, even as you struggle.

He wants to make you yearn for his gloved touch more than the cold air outside yearns for your warmth, and he wants to hear you beg for a brush of his skin.

For his caress.

Perhaps he's indulged in his drink of choice too fervently, as of late. Perhaps the way the last games are going is pushing him to erratic decisions.

He sinks back into his chair and the confine of his mind.

His own body against yours, leaving you nowhere to run. For you to instinctively shield yourself again, as you did in front of the coffee machine, just so he can catch your wrist and hold it down, exposing you to him, defenseless and his.

He wants you to yearn for it. Shiver. Fear. Need. Beg.

He wants those beautiful, deep eyes to gaze up into his and drown.

[felassan]

New BioWare journal entry:

"Journal #8 Exploration Across Thedas A look into how Rook will discover the world Hello everyone, Today, we’re back to share more about the world of Dragon Age: The Veilguard (minor spoilers below). While the game is a crafted experience telling a rich narrative, there are many areas to explore. The Lighthouse, for example, is a central place for Rook to rest, spend time with Companions, and learn more about the world through conversation. The Crossroads allow the Veilguard to traverse Thedas in seconds, connecting the Lighthouse to more of the world than ever before.  Throughout the story, you will go through many diverse areas, from the beauty of the lush Arlathan Forests to the busy streets of Minrathous. Veterans of the series have heard whispers in the past about each of these places in Thedas, but now you will actually be able to explore and experience them in-game. Each area has its own unique feel and style. There are several areas for exploration; each inviting you to delve deeper into the narrative and uncover the many mysteries Thedas holds. Check out a few of them here: Arlathan Forest – Ancient magic and powerful artifacts re-awaken and reality thins across the woodlands that once held the heart of the Elvhen empire. The Veil Jumpers, masters of ancient elven magic, seek to stabilize the region and keep reality from crumbling. Hossberg Wetlands – Much of this once-peaceful marshland has been consumed by the Blight. Darkspawn roam the swamps with impunity, but the Grey Wardens mount a valiant defense of the last safe haven – Lavendel. Minrathous – Capital of the Tevinter Imperium, the Venatori wield corruption as they try to turn the Empire’s heart to their own dark purposes. Yet the people resist, with the rebel Shadow Dragons leading the charge. Rivain – An ancient Grey Warden fortress sits among sparkling waters and lush greenery of the Rivain Coast; the Lords of Fortune call this paradise home. The servants of the gods have their own plans, however, and threaten to turn this sanctuary into a battlefield. Treviso – A merchant city known for the beauty of its canals – and the deadliness of its assassins – Treviso is under Antaam occupation, a state of affairs that sits poorly with the Antivan Crows.

WHAT'S THERE TO FIND? While exploring the world, the Veilguard will come across many things to do and people to talk to. Of course, there will be loot to upgrade your equipment but there will also be puzzles and lore! There will be ancient statues, letters, and artifacts left behind to read and collect those Codex Entries. There are also new modes of transportation to find throughout the world, including fast travel.  There will be new ways for your Companions to interact with the world as well, with specific exploration abilities. For example, you may come across some ancient Elven artifacts for Bellara to Tinker with while you wander through Arlathan. Even when the Companions are back at the Lighthouse, Rook can use the Lyrium Dagger to take advantage of their Exploration Abilities. You may also spot Companions out and about, interacting with the world on their own. When heading to Treviso, we recommend finding Lucanis and enjoying a cup of coffee together.

THE LIGHTHOUSE The Lighthouse will serve as your new home during Dragon Age: The Veilguard. Each companion will have their own room, for them to decorate to their own taste. Their rooms will progress over the course of the story, and it will also be the main location for one-on-one chats with them. Rook will have a room of their own, as well! Lastly, you will find the Caretaker’s Workshop here, where items can be upgraded and enchanted.

THE CROSSROADS From the home base of the Lighthouse, you will be able to access The Crossroads, a meeting place of many Eluvians. This area will serve as the main connection from the Lighthouse to the rest of Thedas, as well as lead to a lot of side content. The Caretaker will act as a guide throughout this area, ferrying the party to different islands in the Fade. Additionally, there will be more puzzles to solve in this area and even some extra missions, but we’ll leave those shrouded in mystery to discover on your own. We recently held our in-person Preview Event with Content Creators and Press, so keep your eyes out for interviews and coverage in the coming weeks. While you’re waiting, don’t forget to check out our podcast Dragon Age: Vows & Vengeance. Chat soon!             — The Dragon Age Community Team"

[source]

[upennmanuscripts]

Way back in February, 2023, we took a look at LJS 443, a 15th century Armenian collection of texts on the calendar. From the highlight reel you'll see it's chock full of diagrams and tables, and includes a few pretty colorful headings, too. You can watch the full 30-minute video at the link below, and if you're interested in joining #CoffeeWithACodex in real time check out the schedule and details on our website: https://www.library.upenn.edu/events/coffee-codex

🔗:

[inquisimer]

something loosely inspired by the Rook Codex Prompts by @shivunin - it was an idea I had, but the format didn't come together for me until I saw this list. It also fills multiple possible prompts, but I didn't write it with any specific one in mind? So I'm just posting it like this asldgjlkdfh.

Arlow de Riva & Viago | 449 words | @dadrunkwriting - da4 spoilers, a letter written before Tearstone Island, for Neve to deliver in the event of Arlow's death

-

A letter written in Antivan, crumpled and smoothed out many times over. It is pinned to the library table by a dagger embossed with the sigil of House de Riva.

Viago, If you knew I was writing this, you’d slap me upside the head. But I’m writing it anyway, because you should hear it from me. It isn’t your fault. Whatever happened, if you’re reading this, it is not your fault I’m gone. And it’s not Lucanis’ either, so don’t blame him. I made my own choices. I hope they were the right ones, and that I’m not gone before the job was done. A Crow always finishes their contracts, right? I hope I didn’t let you down, in the end. (Here’s a break for you to yell at my ghost. Come back when you’ve calmed down.) You saved my life, you know? You didn’t have to. I know you would have made Talon, regardless. But you saved me—changed me, so much I don’t even know who I would have been otherwise. And I’m glad for that. I wouldn’t have wanted to be anyone other than who you made me. Yes, I mean that. Yes, I’m sure. Don’t argue with me when I’m not there to argue back. Just—believe me, for once. It doesn’t matter how it ended. We had a good run. A really good run. And despite it all, I wouldn’t have changed a thing, except maybe that I’d like to be hearing your lecture in real time right now. Wherever I am, I’m missing you. But don’t spend too much time missing me. The others need you—if the job isn’t done, help them. For my sake—a contract signed with my last breath. You help them save the world, and then you take Teia back to Treviso and you live. Have a really good cup of coffee; watch the sun rise over the canals. Keep going, because even when the world fell apart in my hands, you were the one thing that stayed the same. If there was anything I could leave this world knowing, it’s that that hasn’t changed. So. Keep living. For me? We’re not big on words, and I’ve already used up most of mine. But the seal on this letter wasn’t poisoned—as you undoubtedly tested—and that should tell you all you need to know. I love you, Viago. I’m sorry that I wasn’t good enough to make it back and tell you in person. But I always have. Thank you. For everything. -Arlow de Riva

The loopy signature is blotted with tears. Some smear the ink; others appear to have been left after the letter was opened.

[ofcrowsanddragons]

Instead of working on the stuff I'm supposed to be working on, I'm thinking about this quote from @wolfsong-the-bloody-beast's excellent Rookanis meta:

Not only does [Lucanis] eagerly play along with Rook's flirting during their first coffee date, he initiates it. Most of the time, Rook's "flirting" takes the form of caring, expressing concern, and showing support. Lucanis is not used to that and he's also experiencing the horrors 24/7. But it is him that tells them that they always manage to cheer him up ("How do you always do that?" - "Do what?" - "Break apart my perfectly gathered clouds of doom.") and when they keep being supportive, he pins them against the wall.

GIF by Vyllanawitchbish

Go read it! The post has lots of screenshots, including from the codex entries, and a bit of a timeline between the two possible romances.

[the-sparrohawk]

I finally made the Nevarran Hazelnut Torte. Quite a project! It was delicious and I loved that the recipe is straight from the codex. It does indeed pair well with coffee, and now I know better why Rook was so impressed. ♥️

[worldhistoryfacts]

What was it like to be an Aztec kid? According to this document, not so great. This page of the Codex Mendoza shows us a boy (left) and girl (right) at ages 11-14. We see the naughty tweens punished at ages 11 by being held over burning chili peppers until they cry. Then, at age 12, the boy is tied up until he behaves, while the girl does chores around the house. By ages 13 and 14, they’ve apparently learned to behave: the boy is helpfully collecting reeds and fishing while the girl makes tortillas and weaves.

Much more on Aztec life here:

{Buy me a coffee} {WHF} {Medium} {Substack}

[goldenhallas]

Lucanis just baked Rook a hazelnut torte & made her favourite coffee what an absolute sweetheart

also the recipe is in the codex and I am definitely making it soon 😋

[gallusneve]

I want to put Neve Gallus in DA2 or DA Inquisition sometimes like:

poisoning Solas with her boiled coffee after realizing he hates tea (she means well)

feeling at home in Kirkwall since it's very similar to Dock Town

Cole with the wisps around Neve

Inquisition Dorian and her would probably have spats because Dorian was low-key "status quo" about Tevinter before (further elaborated on his codex in DATV)

Vivienne would let her know right away if she's being tricked or about to be sold out during her jobs

would ask Josephine with her connections to help solve her cases plus fashion talk

Neve and Sera having the same artistic level of doodling

her going bonkers with how the Southern Thedas Templars handles their mages, her mind flashes back between Rana and Cullen's experiences

would SOMEWHAT agree with Divine Cassandra’s ideas with revamping of the Circle and making it actually "educational"

actually pulling big sister moves on Merrill by telling her to not mess with blood magic

her understanding Calpernia first and foremost, the verbal standoff between them (after all, Neve was suppose to be Calpernia)

would give Bethany pointers with her magic

Anders 🤝 Neve CEOs of Cat Parents Society, plus Justice would be somewhat pleased with her moral compass and intentions

Cole calling her out on being emotionally stunted, having her walls up, and not taking care of herself (while being curious/helpful about her cases)

would've likely clocked Solas or Blackwall from a mile away

her and Fenris interacting with how they view Minrathous and definitely helping him kill Danarius, also both being scared of emotions

Isabela flirting with Neve but sharing love for fried/grilled fish since it's closest to pirate cuisine, also makes Neve not work so much and have fun