#i just wanted to actually give Hawke some insight into Anders

[bluerose5]

Nostalgia

"Tell me something about yourself."

Anders’s hands stopped in their tracks. Golden brown eyes glanced up at Garrett, curious about what brought on such a request.

He returned to healing Garrett's wound, brow furrowed as he concentrated on knitting the flesh together. Slowly but surely, the large gash on his arm started to seal closed.

"Like what?" Anders asked. "Have we not been getting to know each other all this time?"

"Well, we have," Garrett said, then added, "in a way. Even then, I feel like so much of you is still a mystery. The Grey Warden thing, I get. The apostate thing, I get. Even the whole merging with Justice thing, I get."

"But...?" Anders trailed off.

"But you don't tell me much about you." Garrett watched him closely, searching for any change in his expression. "I've seen you joke around with the others. Then, as soon as I walk into the room, you get all serious and quiet. You've told me plenty about the mages' plight, which is fine, but I just want to know more, you know?"

"Is that your way of telling me that I need to lighten up?" Anders questioned, head cocked to the side as he peered over at him.

Even after the wound was healed, Anders’s touch lingered on his arm.

Neither one of them tried to move away.

"If that's how you choose to take it." Garrett shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't mind being that guy that you can vent to about your frustrations. I'm glad that you trust me enough to share your concerns; but if I'm right about you —and something is telling me that I am— then there's more to you than you let on."

"Okay, and if there is?"

Garrett leaned in with a roguish grin, dark curls falling into warm, brown eyes.

Anders swallowed thickly.

His heart skipped a beat.

"Then I plan on finding out what."

"Heh," Anders laughed in an attempt to cover up how flustered he was. He dropped Garrett's arm as if his skin was on fire, taking a second to brush his hair back behind his ears. "What a tease you are, Garrett Hawke." After a slight pause, he glanced over at him. "What would you know of me?"

Garrett's grin softened into a smile.

"Oh, that's easy," he hummed. "Favorite color?"

"Red," Anders answered without skipping a beat.

Walking around the clinic, he started to straighten up, cleaning every surface as best as he could while taking inventory of his supplies.

"Really?"

"Yeah." For some reason, Anders felt the need to explain further. "It's a very versatile color. Bold and passionate, dangerous yet warm..."

"I'll have to keep that in mind."

Right.

"Anything else, or was this all just an excuse to find out what my favorite color is?"

Garrett snorted.

"I'm just getting started." He leaned his weight back onto his hands, kicking his legs out from the crate he was sitting on. "Tell me, when you're not out striving for mages' freedom, what do you do in your free time?" Garrett thought it over, then took a guess, not even giving Anders a chance to respond first. "Do you like to write?"

Anders wrinkled his nose.

"Not particularly."

"Seriously?" Garrett blinked owlishly at him. "Huh. Interesting."

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. It's just that you're so good at it."

Wait, did that mean...

"Garrett Hawke," Anders said, "did you actually read my manifesto?"

"Perhaps." Garrett beamed at him, his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Does this mean you'll stop leaving copies all over my estate?"

"Maybe." With his back to Garrett, Anders clutched a pile of clean linens to his chest in an attempt to muffle the pounding of his heart. Anders wouldn't be surprised if Garrett could hear it from across the room. "Maybe I could leave other notes for you to find."

"Now, that's a challenge that I would gladly accept."

"Guess my Circle education is finally paying off," Anders joked. "As for hobbies, though." Anders sighed, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Oh, I don't know. Ever since I last escaped, I can't honestly remember when I've done anything for myself. Back then, I was with the Wardens. After I got away from them, all of my time here has been split between the clinic and the Mage Underground."

"When you're not with me, at least."

"True." He shrugged. "So, yeah. When I'm not playing cards with you lot at The Hanged Man, I don't do much. Pathetic, right?"

"No," Garrett huffed, glaring at him for making that jab at himself. "It means you're dedicated to what you do."

"That's one way of looking at it."

Humming in contemplation, Garrett sat there, deep in thought.

Eventually, he spoke up.

"Well, what would you like to do?"

"Excuse me?"

Garrett rolled his eyes, shaking his head at Anders with a fond smile.

"What would you like to do?" he repeated. "You and Justice?"

"Justice?"

"Is there an echo in here?" Garrett teased. "Yes, you and Justice. Say what you want. You may not 'hear' him, but he must have some kind of influence if you're both two halves of a whole."

"Such a huge simplification of our... arrangement."

"Yet you don't deny it. Come on," Garrett insisted. "The clinic is empty at the moment. I know for certain that today has been a quiet one for the Underground, so let's go have some fun. Alone. Together."

"What do you have in mind?" Anders asked, wary.

"Whatever you want."

Anders considered his options.

Setting the linens aside, the words came to him, unbidden.

"I'd like to go fishing."

At Garrett's surprised look, Anders grimaced.

"My father, he was always a stern man," he explained. A wistful sense of nostalgia settled deep into his bones. "But he was a proud father before my magic manifested."

Anders stared down at his hands, flexing them through the aches from years of healing and spellcasting.

"He used to take me to a lake not far outside of our village. We would take to the docks for hours. I would run around with fistfuls of worms and bugs for bait." Anders scoffed. "Every time I caught something, even if it was just trash, I would get so excited. I could have caught the smallest minnow, and he would brag about how strong I was."

And all it took to destroy that bond was fear.

Anders wouldn't linger on that, though.

"I mean, we don't have to fish, but perhaps we can take a walk down to the docks. Clear our heads a little?" Already, he could see the rhythmic motion of the waves, smell the tang of salt in the air. "Well, if you can sit still for that long."

Garrett chuckled.

Jumping down from his perch, he approached Anders’s position, hesitating before he took his hand into his own.

"For you, I'll try my best."

[trash-druid]

The Moment He Let Go | DA2 Insights

Fenris knew he made a mistake the moment he let go of her. 

In the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do. He was damaged, scarred. She was entropy and fire. He thought he would destroy her, or at least, destroy the light he saw inside her. But there as no denying his gut. It ached as he left Hawke manor that night. Every step forward felt forced. His mind moved forward but his heart pushed back. In the end, it was his mind that won. 

He kept her distance from her for some time. She would come knocking and he would wait by the door until her knocks fell to silence. She would ask for his help on a mission and he would come up with an excuse. He felt that this distance would make it easier in the long run, would make her forget him and vice verse. All it really did was drive the knife deeper. 

Varric would stop by for the occasional night of binge drinking. Varric was her best and closest friend so he never understood why he kept coming back. Varric never pressed for answers nor lectured. He was smarter than that. He would drop a bit of news here and there. “She’s been working on a job for the Vicount,” he would say “me and Blondie have been tagging along. It’s been a great chance for me to do some research for Hard in Hightown. Have I gotten you to actually read one of those yet?” 

He would sit, wine swirling in his mind, and smile gently. She was just as strong as he thought. Maybe it was time to stop being a coward.

It was a week later when she came calling, but this time she was not alone. When he opened the door, she was accompanied by Varric, as expected as well as Aveline. Standing behind her was another person. Anders was a force that he actively tried to ignore. He exemplified all the gusto and righteousness of a foolish child. Fenris could have hated him for everything he was, but he didn’t. He didn’t give Anders enough thought to hate him. 

When he joined back up with her, it was as if all the weeks apart disappeared. Sure, there was awkwardness. He knew that it wasn’t right of him to withhold answers from her but she wasn’t asking anymore. Her focus was on other things. Things fell back into place. Two friends whose eyes would meet for just a moment too long every once in a while. 

He tried his best not to notice the time that Hawke and Anders spent together but it slowly became unavoidable to think about. It did make some sense; she was a mage but she was far different from any mage he had ever met. Anders reminded him more of the magisters back in Tevinter, thinking they were so special and better than others. Anders’ cries for freedom felt like a direct insult to Fenris. He would claim that Anders knew nothing of true bondage. He saw the hurt these kinds of comments would instill in her eyes so eventually, he learned to keep them to himself.

Fenris knew hate. He knew it like an old friend and companion. Sometimes, he thought he knew it better than he knew himself. His hatred took many forms but the hate eventually felt for Anders was special. It was a jealous hatred of someone who took hold as he let go. He saw the way Anders made her smile, the way his warmth healed her and he hated him for it. 

Despite the death of his master, he was not free from his past, from his hate. He knew that there were others like those who turned him into what he was. He resolved himself to hunt those who would hurt the weak and innocent. He would not let another Leto wander lost in the world. 

Two years had passed since that night they shared and he still remembered every moment. It was then, when planning his future, that he realized how badly he wanted her in it. Perhaps it wasn’t too late. She was spending her time with that mage but maybe, just maybe, if he told her everything, if he finally explained himself, the wound between them would heal. 

But then the explosion rang out.

[pikapeppa]

Fenris/f!Hawke and the Inquisition: The Days Before

Chapter 43 of Lovers In A Dangerous Time (i.e. Fenris the Inquisitor) is up on AO3! In which there are... a lot of convos, frankly. Fenris chats with Morrigan, Varric and Hawke, Cullen, Cassandra, and Cole. NEXT WEEK WILL BE ACTION THOUGH, SO THERE’S THAT.

It’s a long one (~9500 words); only the first half here. Read the whole thing on AO3.

**********************

Over the next few days, the Inquisition’s forces began to trickle back through Skyhold’s gates. Bull and the Chargers were the first to return, and Dorian promptly became unavailable for consultation, to Hawke’s delight and Fenris’s utter lack of surprise. Cullen and a squadron of soldiers returned with Samson in chains, and Fenris immediately gave Samson over to Dagna for study. He spent considerable time conferring with the advisors about Corypheus’s potential location and discussing the ongoing political unrest that was blooming across Orlais and Ferelden both in the wake of the Chantry’s disarray. 

When he wasn’t in the war room, Fenris spent much of his time, oddly enough, with Morrigan. Despite her dismay at being bound to her ineffable mother’s will, the witch was clearly enjoying the insights that the Vir’Abelasan afforded her, and Fenris forced himself to tolerate her smugness in exchange for the information she was able to provide. 

One such piece of information was the fact that each eluvian could theoretically lead to any other existing eluvian. “Imagine the implications,” Morrigan said to Fenris one day as they sat together in the garden pagoda. “Imagine if you could move your entire army across a continent in the space of seconds.” She shook her head in wonder and ran her fingers delicately over the ancient elven tome on her lap. “‘Tis no wonder the ancient elves closed all paths to the crossroads during their internal war. Seal the eluvians, and you prevent an enemy from using them to attack.”

“And yet not all of the eluvians are sealed,” Fenris said shrewdly. 

Morrigan raised one sardonic eyebrow. “Clearly, as you have seen yourself.”

He ignored her condescending tone. “Perhaps there was a reason they were not all sealed,” he said flatly. “We know now that elves from those ancient wars have survived. We also know that they have an extremely long memory when it comes to their loyalties. Do you see where I am going with this?”

Morrigan lifted her chin and eyed him appraisingly, so Fenris went on. “Is there a way to reseal the open eluvians? Beyond physically breaking them, that is?” If it was possible to permanently seal all the eluvians, an enormous source of unknown threat would be instantly eliminated.  

Unsurprisingly, Morrigan scowled at this suggestion. “The question we should ask is if there is a way to reopen the eluvians that have been sealed!” she exclaimed. “Imagine the mysteries we might recover of the ancient world, if only it were possible to unravel the eluvian network.”

Fenris folded his arms. “Imagine the destruction that could be wrought if the eluvian network fell into the wrong hands,” he retorted.

Morrigan shook her head in disgust. “Always so cautious, Inquisitor. I wonder at times how you have achieved such daring feats when you guard yourself so preciously.”

Fenris narrowed his eyes. Despite his best efforts, his ire was starting to grow. “You will not let this lie, will you?” he demanded. “This is what you’re going to use those cursed voices to learn. You’re going to try to–”

“Mother!” Kieran’s cheerful voice called out from across the garden, and Fenris and Morrigan both looked up as he approached. 

Kieran was carrying a laden tray in his hands, and he bowed politely as he entered the pagoda.   “Mother. Inquisitor,” he said politely. “Would you like some apple pie?” 

A bolt of amusement softened Fenris’s anger. As polite as ever, he thought. Kieran really did behave like a small adult at times. 

“Thank you,” he said, and he took one plate of pie from the tray. 

Morrigan smiled at her son and took the second plate. She took a delicate bite of pie, then looked at Kieran with wide eyes. “This is very good,” she said.

“I helped the cook to make it,” Kieran said excitedly. “I didn’t make a single mistake. She didn’t even smack my hand with the ladle like she does to Hawke!”

Fenris snorted softly – Hawke never had been the best cook, it was true – and Morrigan nodded approvingly. “Very well done, Kieran. Be sure to thank the cook for her instruction.”

“I will,” Kieran said happily. He bowed to Fenris once more, then turned and scurried back to the castle. 

Morrigan and Fenris ate in silence for a moment before Morrigan spoke again. “You believe that seeking knowledge is akin to seeking power, but allow me to dispel you of that absolutist notion. There is something to be said for curiosity, Inquisitor. True curiosity – learning for the sheer joy of mastery.” 

Fenris scowled as he munched his pie. Morrigan thought he was rigid and closed-minded, but she was wrong; Fenris did like to learn new things, and he read as much as he could when he had the time. It wasn’t the learning or the knowledge per se that bothered him. It was the intentions of the learner that he took issue with.

But… Morrigan had been with the Inquisition for months, and she hadn’t done any harm in her time here. She hadn’t made any attempts to escape Skyhold since Flemeth’s unprecedented visit a couple of days ago. And if Fenris was really being honest, Morrigan’s intentions weren’t really what worried him the most – not anymore. 

What disturbed him most were the implications of the new knowledge they were gaining. Everything that Fenris learned these days seemed to disrupt his understanding of the world and himself. The fact that Tranquility could be reversed, that lyrium was alive in some capacity, that vallaslin were slave markings, that an ancient elven goddess existed at all… Everything they learned just seemed to lead to more questions, and it seemed impossible nowadays to learn anything that didn’t give Fenris an instantaneous sense of vertigo about just how much he still didn’t know. 

On that note, there was another headache-inducing issue that required his attention. He sighed quietly as he chewed his final bite of pie, then placed his empty plate on the bench and rose to his feet. “I need to deal with something else,” he told Morrigan. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he gestured at the tome on her lap. “Thank you,” he said grudgingly. “For the information.”

“‘Tis my duty to share what I know, Inquisitor,” she said coolly. She didn’t look at him, but her shoulders relaxed slightly. 

Fenris turned away from her and headed for the Great Hall to find Varric. As he made his way through the garden and up the stairs, he tried to ignore the jittering nerves in his belly.

When he stepped into the Great Hall, it was to find Varric and Hawke in Varric’s usual spot by one of the fireplaces. Hawke was sitting on the carpet while Varric sorted through the mountain of mail on the table, and every time Varric handed an envelope to Hawke, she immediately chucked it into the fire. 

Fenris relaxed. He was glad Hawke was here, actually. It would make this conversation more bearable. 

Varric looked up with a smile as Fenris drew close. “Hey. Care to join us?” He tossed Fenris an envelope.

Fenris caught the envelope smoothly. “Of course. I wouldn’t spurn a time-honoured tradition.” He seated himself beside Hawke on the carpet, then tossed the piece of mail into the hearth. 

She smiled and leaned against his shoulder, and he glanced at the rotunda and lowered his voice before speaking. “Have you discovered anything new?” he asked.

“It’s okay, we can talk,” she said at a normal volume. “He’s taking a Fade nap in one of the quieter corners of the castle.”

“Ah. Good.” Fenris raised his eyebrows. “So…?”

She shrugged. “I was just telling Varric, I’ve learned a whole lot of stuff about the elven gods. Merrill would be proud of me if she were here.” She chuckled. “He lent me all the books he had about the elven gods by both the Dalish and the Chantry, and Maker, the shit the Chantry has twisted–”

Varric interrupted. “She asked Chuckles if he was a spirit.” He handed Hawke another piece of junk mail.

Fenris looked at her avidly. “And? What did he say?”

Hawke sighed and started idly tearing the envelope into pieces. “He asked me why I would think that. And I told him what Dorian said – he understands Cole so well, and he loves spirits and the Fade and all that. And he was all, ‘do you not think it is possible to love and understand a being who is unlike yourself?’” She threw the pieces of envelope into the fireplace. “And I mean, he’s not wrong, so… shit, I don’t know.” She grimaced at Fenris. “I think the answer was no, but I’m not sure.”

“Venhedis,” he muttered. He ran a hand through his hair and looked ruefully at Varric. “At what point shall we start accepting his incessant sidestepping as confirmation instead?”

Varric made a little face, and Hawke shrugged before tossing the remainder of the envelope into the fireplace. “His new mural looks great, though. I asked him how he learned to paint like that, and he started showing me the process. It’s actually really interesting!”

Her tone was cheerful and bright, and she wasn’t looking at either him or Varric. Fenris peered at her quizzically, and she glanced at him before letting out a little laugh. “What? You know I’ve always wanted to be an artist. Too bad there’s not a creative bone in this fine body of mine.”

A bubble of worry swelled in his belly. Hawke was doing her avoiding-and-humour routine – the same routine she used to pull when Fenris hassled her about Merrill and Anders. 

He tilted his head closer to hers. “Is there something you are not telling me?” he said quietly. 

She gave him a stricken look. “No. Of course not. I wouldn’t… you don’t actually think I would hide something from you?”

An image of her standing in the Well of Sorrows rose to his mind. He hastily shunted it aside. “No,” he said calmly. “But if you have concerns, you should share them.”  

She gazed at him in silence for a second, then reached up and ran her thumb over his eyebrow. “What about you? You looked like thunder when you first came through the door. What’s on your mind?”

He gazed at her in exasperation for a moment, but her tone and expression were determinedly cheerful. And unfortunately, she wasn’t wrong; he had come to speak with Varric, not with her. 

He sighed and put aside his Solas-related concerns for now, then rose to his feet and looked at Varric. “Are you busy at the moment?”

Varric raised his eyebrows. “Extremely busy, obviously,” he said with a wave at his table full of mail. “But I can spare some time for you. What do you need?”

“A favour, unfortunately,” Fenris said. “Can I speak with you in private?”

Varric raised his eyebrows, but rose from his chair. “A favour, huh? So you’re not kicking me out of the Inquisition?”

Fenris smirked faintly. “Only if you have been embezzling. We are suspiciously low on funds for Orlesian confectionery.” He turned to Hawke and gave her a meaningful look. “Will you join us?”

Her eyes widened. “Of course,” she said, and she rose to her feet as well and took his hand. Together, the three of them made their way to Fenris and Hawke’s quarters. 

Once they were in the bedroom, Varric folded his arms and gave them an expectant look. “All right, you two are making me nervous. What’s going on?”

Fenris glanced at Hawke, who had seated herself cross-legged on the bed. She nodded in encouragement, and Fenris turned back to Varric. 

“Hawke and I have been studying lyrium,” he said. “What it is, why it does the seemingly contradictory things it does. Or… we have been trying, but we have not gotten far. Dagna has told us what she could, but it… wasn’t much.” In truth, Dagna’s talk about lyrium had been more incomprehensible than Cole’s. 

Hawke spoke up from her spot on the bed. “It seems like lyrium has something to do with dwarves.”

Varric raised his eyebrows. “You needed Strawberry to figure that out?”

Hawke blinked at him, then grinned. “Your nickname for Dagna is Strawberry?”

Varric waved a dismissive hand. “Red hair, pale skin, sweet kid. You get the picture.”

Hawke laughed, but Fenris doggedly pressed on. “What Hawke means is that the link between dwarves and lyrium is more than simply mining. There is something more… inherent about the connection. But we’re not clear on what the connection is.”

Varric gave Fenris a flat look. “Is this where you ask me if I have a special dwarven sixth sense for lyrium that I never told you about?”

Hawke snorted, and Fenris tsked in annoyance. “No. This is where I ask if you’ll write to Bianca on my behalf.” 

Varric raised his eyebrows, and Fenris pushed on despite his growing nerves. “I was wondering if you might ask her if she and Dagna would consider working together. They are the two most qualified people I can think of.”

Varric shrugged. “Uh, yeah, sure. She’s not at her workshop, though. She’s in Emprise du Lion.” He tugged one of his earrings. 

On the bed, Hawke straightened up. “What? Why?”

“She’s studying the red lyrium there,” he said. “Trying to see if they can eliminate it. It’s really bad there, remember?”

“She’s trying to help get rid of it?” Hawke said in obvious surprise.

Varric shot her a chiding look. “She’s not all brass and salt, Hawke. Give her a little credit.”

Hawke slapped a hand over her mouth. “Balls,” she said, and she pulled an apologetic grimace. “I’m sorry, Varric, I don’t mean to be such a bitch about her, I just–”

“I know,” Varric said in a softer tone. “Don’t worry about it.” He looked up at Fenris once more. “But why are you so interested in lyrium all of a sudden?”

Fenris’s gut twisted. This was the part of this conversation he’d been dreading. He took a deep breath. “I want to know more about the substance that’s been forced under my skin,” he said. “The more I don’t know about it, the more it revolts me. And to think it’s alive?” He swallowed and looked at lines on the backs of his hands. “The questions this has raised… their itch is worse than the scars that these cursed marks left behind.” He looked Varric in the eye. “I need to know what I am dealing with.”

Varric’s expression was very serious. “All right,” he said. “Any specific question you want to ask her, though? Lyrium is a big topic.”

Fenris glanced at Hawke’s warm and loving face, then turned to Varric again. “I want to know why lyrium infusions have different effects for mages and Templars. It does not make sense that the same infusion has such different effects.”

“All right,” Varric said. “And is there a specific reason you want to know that? Maybe relating to why you two keep looking at each other?” He jerked his chin at Hawke.

Kaffas, Fenris thought. His pulse was racing now. He looked at Hawke again. 

“Yeah, like that,” Varric said dryly. 

Hawke slid off of the bed and padded toward Fenris, and he turned back to Varric and took another bracing breath. “Solas told me something some time ago. About my… these marks. He said using the marks entails using magic.”

Varric tilted his head curiously. “So those tattoos are magic after all?”

Hawke took Fenris’s hand and squeezed it. Fenris swallowed hard. “Yes,” he said. “They contain magic. Magic that was… that is… mine.” 

Varric gazed at him in bemusement for a second. Then his eyes grew huge. “Shit. Andraste’s ass,” he breathed. “You’re a mage?”

“I was,” Fenris said quickly. “Now the magic is… it is contained in these marks.” 

Varric continued to stare at him, and Fenris could feel his scarred skin crawling with discomfort. Varric was the least judgmental person he knew, but this confession was so damned difficult to make, and his origins as a mage made him such a terrible hypocrite…  

Varric interrupted his frantic thoughts. “That’s why you were tired after fighting those Sentinels, isn’t it? You were getting overextended.”

Hawke replied for him. “I think he was, yes,” she said. “And I want to know what would happen if he took a lyrium potion. Theoretically it seems like it might help, but we’re not willing to risk it going wrong.”

Varric huffed. “That makes sense. Let’s not accidentally poison the elf here.”

Fenris’s shoulders loosened slightly at the joke, and Hawke smiled. “Exactly. I’m a little bit fond of this handsome elf, in case you didn’t notice.”

Varric snorted in amusement. Then he patted Fenris’s elbow. “Sorry, buddy,” he said softly. “That must’ve been, uh, something to hear.”

“You could say that,” Fenris said wryly. Truthfully, the knowledge that he was once a mage was the most jarring thing Fenris had learned since all of this chaos had begun.

Varric studied him for a second, then tucked his thumbs in his pockets. “Well, lucky for me that this doesn’t have to change anything in my novel. Lyrium tattoos is all my readers need to know. I like to keep things a mystery – keeps them coming back for the sequel, you know?”

At this, Fenris relaxed completely. The subtext of Varric’s words was clear: this new revelation had not changed Varric’s opinion of him, and it would remain private between himself, Hawke, and Varric.

Fenris sighed. “Thank you, my friend,” he said softly. 

Varric chuckled. “Ah, don’t thank me yet. When you start getting fifty-page-long reports from Bianca, you’ll be less than thankful.”

That is not what I meant, Fenris thought, but he simply smiled. After all, Varric knew that wasn’t what he’d meant, either.

Hawke squeezed Fenris’s hand once more, then released him and elbowed Varric. “Is she as good a writer as you are? If that’s the case, then those reports will be a pleasure to read.”

Varric smirked. “Actually, she’s not. That’s the one thing I’m better at than her. That and penmanship. Her handwriting looks like a one-toed wyvern writing with its left hand.”

“Hey,” Hawke protested. “I resent that on behalf of all left-handed people.”

Varric chuckled, and they made their way back downstairs. Once they were back in the Great Hall, Varric glanced at his table and sighed. “Well, I’d better get back to my mail. Aveline and Bran keep sending me letters. You can practically hear the yelling matches in their handwriting.” He smirked at Fenris and Hawke. “It’s some great drama, I have to admit. Inspirational, even.”

Hawke gave him a shrewd look. “They’ve been writing you a lot. Is there something you wanted to tell us?”

He shrugged. “Nah, not really. I’ve just been donating some coin to the repair efforts back home, that’s all.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows. “You have?”

Varric shot him a sardonic look. “Hey, I had a lot of funds from the Deep Roads. And from other things.” 

Fenris smirked at his innocent tone, and Hawke laughed out loud. “You’re still running smuggling routes in Kirkwall? Really?”

Varric tutted. “Hey, just because there’s an undead magister trying to kill us doesn’t mean the whole world comes to a stop.”

“It sort of does, in fact,” Fenris drawled.

Varric chuckled. “Tell that to the wedding you guys had a couple months ago.”

Fenris shrugged affably. “Fair enough.”

Varric smiled at him, then folded his arms. “Whatever you do, don’t tell Aveline about the dirty money. She’s delighted to get some funding for clearing out the docks.” Then he looked up at Hawke. “What’s up?”

Fenris looked at Hawke as well. She was studying Varric with a distinctly hangdog expression. “You’re leaving us after Corypheus is dead, aren’t you?” she asked plaintively.

Varric raised his eyebrows. “What? No.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not right away, at least.”

Hawke’s face fell even further, and Varric patted her elbow. “Hey now, don’t make that face. You two could come too.” He cocked his head at her. “You know your mansion is still standing? It’s… well, it’s a total mess, but it’s still there. And technically still yours. A few months of renovations and it would be livable again.” 

Hawke wrapped her arms around his neck. “Oh, Varric. You want us to come back, don’t you?”

Varric rubbed his nose. “Look, I’m just pointing out that you have options. And I mean… honestly, Kirkwall is pretty boring without you guys.” He glanced at Fenris.

Fenris managed a smile, but he couldn’t reply. His chest suddenly felt very heavy. He hadn’t forgotten what Solas had said before: that Corypheus’s death wouldn’t mean the end of the decisions Fenris was being asked to make. The Chantry was still in disarray, and Josephine wouldn’t always be able to hold off the countless Chantry sisters and clerics and political parties who were demanding the Inquisition’s input or support. 

Oblivious to his thoughts, Hawke was still hugging Varric. Varric chuckled and patted her arm. “Ah come on, no need to strangle me.” 

“I’m not,” she said, and she hugged him harder still. “I’m just hugging my most-loved and favourite friend.”

“I know, I know,” Varric said airily. “I’m the smartest man in Thedas and the most handsome dwarf you’ve ever seen.”

She gasped dramatically and released him. “And you can read my mind! Maker’s balls, talk about hidden talents.”

Varric chuckled, and Hawke slung her arms around Fenris’s waist and Varric’s neck. “Forget your mail for now. Let’s go to the tavern for some lunch, just the three of us. What do you say?”

“All right, all right, twist my arm,” Varric said. “I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes. Let me actually read some of this mail before I start slacking off.” 

Hawke and Fenris left Varric to his mail, and as they left the Great Hall, Hawke took his hand. “So Dorian’s going back to Tevinter, and Varric’s going back to Kirkwall eventually. What do you think everyone else will do when Corypheus is dead?”

Fenris shrugged somewhat listlessly. “Cassandra and Leliana will certainly stay with the Inquisition. Unless one of them gets called to become the next Divine, that is. Cullen will remain. Sera and Blackwall will also likely–”

“Fenris,” Hawke said, “should we go back to Kirkwall?”

He looked at her. Her expression was so open and curious, and his heavy heart gave a dull thump. 

I might not have that choice, he thought. The countless advisor meetings in the war room weighed heavy on his mind. As time had gone on, the decisions he’d been forced to make had become less about Corypheus and more about politics, and Fenris had long stopped arguing with Leliana and Josephine that he wasn’t qualified to make those decisions. 

Somehow, the Inquisition had become the force that many parties across Thedas came to for political backing or peacekeeping, and as much as Fenris disliked it, he wasn’t sure that he had the choice to simply leave it all behind.

The sad truth was this: the more Fenris thought about leaving the Inquisition after Corypheus was defeated, the more he doubted that he would actually be able to leave. 

He swallowed. There was no harm in indulging Hawke’s question, even if it was… unrealistic. “I’m not sure,” he said slowly. “Would you want to go back?” He remembered this topic coming up a few months ago in another conversation with Varric, but he and Hawke had never actually talked about it further. He was fairly sure that she would want to go back to Kirkwall if they had the choice, but when she didn’t reply right away, he looked at her in surprise.

She winced. “Honestly… I don’t know. I wonder if everyone still hates me there for supposedly helping to blow up the Chantry?” She laughed lightly. “I still think it’s funny that they think I played a part in that. I mean, I’m a heathen and I like a bonfire as much as the next girl, but I’m not that extreme.”

Fenris tried for a smile, but his heart felt too leaden. He squeezed her hand instead, and she squeezed his fingers in turn before speaking again. “It might feel strange if we went back. Things are so different now. And it wouldn’t be the same without…” She trailed off, but Fenris knew who she was thinking of. 

Carver. Hawke had only seen her brother once a month or so during their years in Kirkwall, but he had always just been a short boat ride away at the Gallows. 

And now Carver was forever beyond her reach.  

They walked in silence toward the tavern for a moment. Then Hawke smiled at him. “It would be nice to be near Varric again, though.”

Her voice was stubbornly cheerful. Fenris’s chest swelled with a nearly-painful throb of affection. “This is true,” he said gently. “And we would be near Aveline and Donnic again. It’s certainly an easier visit for Isabela, as well.” 

Hawke’s smile broadened, and she released his hand to loop her arm around his waist instead. But as they approached the tavern, Fenris couldn’t help but recall the occasional wistful conversations they’d had about a life where they hadn’t been sucked into the Inquisition. And as it often did, the fantasy of a little house on the beach in Rivain crossed his mind. 

He recognized the irony of this idle imagining. He never thought he would be wistful for the days when it was just himself and Hawke hiding from the Templars and the Chantry. But sometimes, in the moments when he grew tired of the politicking and the decisions and the constant talking, Fenris would fantasize about settling somewhere new with Hawke alone – somewhere where they could have a completely fresh start without the mantles of their reputations weighing them down. 

But Hawke wasn’t like him. She loved company and friends, and despite her doubts about returning to Kirkwall, she would most certainly be happier if she were closer to the people she considered family.

She looked up at him. “Fenris, do you remember the conversation we had right after they made you the Inquisitor? We were on the battlements, and we talked about, um… I know we were just kidding around, but–”

He looked at her sharply. “The Rivaini beach house,” he said.

Her eyes widened. “Yes!” she said. “Exactly.” 

He stared at her in wonder with his heart in his throat. Her eyes were bright with incredulity, but as he watched, a beautiful smile bloomed across her face. And in this perfect moment in time, Fenris knew without a doubt that he and Hawke were thinking the exact same fanciful thought. 

In this moment, Fenris felt so in sync with her – so much in tune with the thoughts going through her mind and the thrumming of her pulse that he thought his heart might burst. He stared into her eyes, and in their honey-coloured depths, he could see a perfect picture of the ideal: a small but cozy cabin steps away from the sandy shore. A cozy little home in a place that was warm throughout the year, so Toby could run around without his knees getting stiff. Somewhere safe and peaceful where he and Hawke were unknowns. Where maybe, if Hawke was willing, they might consider adding another element of chaos to their lives: another tiny person, perhaps…? 

Fenris gazed breathlessly into Hawke’s coppery eyes and admired the beautiful fantasies that were dancing there. When she lifted herself onto her toes and kissed him, he kissed her back with an aching heart. And for a blissful, carefree moment, they stood wrapped in each other’s arms and fantasized about the sort of shining, peaceful, idyllic life that they had never had. 

Read the second half on AO3!

[tallowes]

I’m working on a bio template by working on Tace’s bio and doing the personality part has been really insightful / helped me to remember some things about him that are #Canon but I sometimes forget because I’m a Fool and the reason why I juxtapose / compare him to Anders a lot mentally while I work on meta-level shit.  Tace was given to the Circle as a very young child, it’s basically all he’s ever known, as someone who’s very strong willed and stubborn he always had some trouble living in the Circle. But when his dreamer capabilities kicked in at 13 things got infinitely worst and he had to very quickly readapt and get the authorities on his side just to survive and not be made tranquil. In the span of a few short months as his powers became less sporadic and more consistent and the enchanters sorted out what was going on Tace went from being just another ( if a bit bratty ) apprentice to being considered the most dangerous person in the Circle and a threat to the safety of the other mages just by living.  He was isolated from the other mages, given private sleeping quarters with wards, etc. on them ( basically a glorified isolation cell ) and a constant guard of templars day and night. He was basically treated like a dangerous criminal or plague victim. Some of that is justified, he was a very young mage and it’s talked about in DA2 just how bad can be if something goes wrong with a dreamer. However it all set him on edge and made him shift quickly from disliking the templars and enchanters because he’s a unruly preteen to thinking of them as threats because of the harsh 180. Tace is smart, very observant and while he’s hot-blooded he doesn’t like to act or lash out, especially when it’s a serious situation where that could really hurt him. He wants to have all the facts so he can point by point tell you why you’re wrong. It became clear to him that they were watching him more intensely than they were anyone else, looking for signs of instability or possession and he knew if they felt they found something regardless if it was there he’d be made tranquil. Even at that age he found the concept nightmarish and was terrified of it being done to him. So he stopped acting out completely, or questioning things too much or really showing any outward signs of not being an exemplary circle mage as much as possible as a means of self preservation. So while Anders, his contemporary in the same Circle was becoming more rebellious Tace was becoming more docile and embedded in the community. 

When Falon’din’s Putrescence locked on to him around 14-15 and he began to not just deal with more frequent and intense demon attacks than the rest of the mages and the physical / mental / emotional toll that took on him, but also began wake up with physical bruising his life was genuinely in danger from the templars. Knowing where this would likely lead he preempted the talks of tranquility before they got too serious by essentially begging for his life,  pointing out that he had now faced about 2 years of near constant demonic assault of all kinds on a level of intensity none of the rest had at a young “untrained and unstable” age and had never had a single moment of faltering.  Thankfully since Irving and Greagoir aren’t complete monsters they agreed he had proven to have a very strong will and he would not be made tranquil but he would still live apart from the rest, go through the harrowing and have a constant guard of at least 1 templar, usually 2, assigned to him for the rest of his life. Tace agreed readily, he didn’t really have a choice and frankly he found the idea of someone around to kill him if he fucked up comforting. His main strength against demons had always been his stubbornness and loathing of being told what to do but Falon’din’s Putrescence is in a category all of it’s own and the idea of what could happen if he did finally break and give up terrified him as much as being tranquil did. Both because of the loss of Self / control and the possible carnage that could be done through him.  Over time he became a split personality with his real self curdling into something very unpleasant as he pushed down all his negative traits, thoughts, feelings etc. and basically lied almost constantly about himself. He couldn’t completely stop being his naturally stubborn independent self but he stamped it down enough to come across as an eccentric and a bit of jerk and not a dangerously rebellious and angry garbage fire of a person, which he actually is. He maintained his shit by basically only caring about himself and focusing intensely on his studies, research and duties, excelling as an academic and a researcher and gaining the rank of enchanter.  People like Anders were inherently dangerous to his survival, not because they themselves where a threat to him physically or anything but because Tace deeply felt for them and sympathized with them. Tace’s seeming inability to connect with others is both the product of his on going trauma and as part of his self-preservation. If he cares about people like Anders, who are clearly struggling, failing to thrive and being obviously miss treated and subjected to barbaric punishments for doing / thinking things he agrees with for reasons he empathizes with he will 100% mclose it and have outburst after outburst and eventually lead to his own demise. So he actively squashes his better traits like his very real and very deep compassion and instead lets himself see everyone as a threat, suspicious or just Not Important or Real like he is. Boom now he doesn’t get upset about poor Jowan, guy just was fucking loser who sucked and couldn’t cut it like he can so rip adios laddie don’t write. While he and Anders have similarities ( personalities not suited for the circle, long bouts of enforced isolation, mental illness struggles, massive sense of betrayal, strong wills, intensely emotional, regretfully care a LOT about others, “radical ideas” like basic human rights for everyone ) Tace’s situation from day one was much more precarious, since 13 he was living on the knife’s edge with opinion on him liable to change irrevocably with just one bad day and he fucking knew it. His ways of coping and working to survive were much different, he used his inherent extroversion, people skills, intelligence and sheer force of will to convince people and to blend in and appear “safe”. Basically becoming an actor putting on some kind of sick play for the amusement of overlords who held his life in their hands. While I’ve joked and talked about how much of an asshole he is and how he has little respect for others or the dead in particular the fact is that other half of his split personality rarely comes out. The era it was most apparent in was DA2 when he’d finally left the Circle, knowing that if he had stayed and let the transfer to the Gallows go thru it was a death sentence. During that time as an apostate largely on his own or with people like Hawke’s gang who really can’t complain much about bad behavior / attitude his true personality got to make an appearance. He was mean, petty, vindictive, intensely distrustful, careless with other people and honestly kind of awful to be around, but along with that he was also helpful, protective of others ( especially Anders, Merrill, Isabella and Fenris ) , considerate, thoughtful, funny and sporadically deeply compassionate. Tace without all his baggage and trauma would be a deeply compassionate, witty, good natured well regarded natural mentor friend ( if a bit of a hard ass ) but at is stands his experiences have made him manipulative, cruel, brutal, callous with the emotions / lives of others, intensely selfish and self centered, stubborn / spiteful to the point of self damaging and largely unable to connect with others on deeper levels. When in situations where his life is in danger from the opinion of groups or “superiors” like the Circle, Mage Rebellion camps or the Inquisition he comes across as a largely harmless academic with an at times strong personality. When he deems himself out of the line of sight or with people he at least trusts not to narc on him he drops some level of the pretense and it becomes increasingly clear he’s very fucked up, deeply unpleasant, needs a lot of therapy ASAP and is absolutely earth shatteringly furious and violently egalitarian. I think it says a lot about him that he has two main reasons that fuel him in his constant battle against possession and they’re that he’s so furiously individualistic and stubborn that he’d rather die and have his immortal soul shredded into non-existence than lose even 1 spec of the bodily autonomy he still has and that he knows exactly how catastrophic it would be if any demon, let alone something like Falon’din’s Putrescence got control of him, and he would rather suffer for eternity than let that kind of calamity happen, especially if he’d be the vehicle for it because despite all his callousness the idea he might be party to that level of monstrousness makes him sick. 

[ageofdragon]

(1/2) Hey! I'm getting ready to do a new playthrough and have a question. When are the suggested times and/or best times to play through all the DLC from a story perspective? (DLC with set timing like Trespasser and the post-game Origins stuff excluded.) I don't care about optimal levels or best loot, I'm just trying to squeeze the most of them all story-wise.

(2/2) So far I’m thinking I’ll start Stone Prisoner when I’m doing my Redcliffe quests and finish it when I’m doing Orzammar. Return to Ostagar maybe after I finish my first main quest. Mark of the Assassin at the start of Act III. Exiled Prince as it becomes available. Do those sound like good plans so far? Not sure about Warden’s Keep, Legacy, and Last Descent. (I think that’s all of them.) Thanks for your time!

Alright, finally rewritten. I thought I had a DLC post like this, but could not find it. So whole new post!

DAO

The Stone Prisoner

If Redcliffe is your first quest, doing The Stone Prisoner afterwards sounds great (I always do The Circle first myself). Since the first quest in The Stone Prisoner is Shale’s recruitment, you want her as soon as possible so you have the option of dragging her around to work on her approval. Plus get some of her dialogues and friendship cutscenes.

I would recommend just making sure to do Shale’s recruitment before doing A Paragon of Her Kind, since you can take her along during that quest and get some great insight into her story. Just be sure to be ready to make some Hard Choices™.

If you find your team unbalanced by taking Shale through the Deep Roads though how could you lol, you really only have to take her in the final area of the Deep Roads to unlock her extra dialogue.

The last quest should come after A Paragon of Her Kind, even if you didn’t take Shale with you. So just be ready to work that in later in the game.

Warden’s Keep

Warden’s Keep doesn’t really have a place it specifically fits, it is mostly just standalone Warden Lore. If your aren’t interested in Levelling and Equipment, it is pretty much just up to you when you play.

I’d probably say play it two allied factions into the game (Elves/Werewolves, Redcliffe, Dwarves/Golems, Mages/Templars) for pacing.

Return to Ostagar

Now Return to Ostagar is probably best played after The Landsmeet, seeing as the Warden is not longer considered an enemy of Ferelden. So it’d make more sense for them to return and collect the things of the Fallen, as well as clear the location since the Darkspawn have started to move out.

This is especially true if you plan on using the “Secret Companion” aka Loghain. He has some incredibly fascinating dialogue during the quest and of course can only be recruited after The Landsmeet.

However, if you plan on using Alistair then I’d say before or after the Landsmeet would work. Or if you want to suffer from feels then after you give Alistair Duncan’s shield, is an excellent time to punish yourself by returning to where his mentor sacrificed himself.

And I know you said Post-Game DLC not included, but just for anyone else or if I do link this again. Witch Hunt is considered the Final DLC for DAO/DA:A.

DA2

Mark of the Assassin

MotA is another DLC that doesn’t have a specific time that it needs to be played. Which the great thing about DA2 DLCs specifically is the content in them changes from Act to Act.

That said, the beginning of Act 3 is probably the best time to play it. Given it lines up better with All That Remains having happened and Hawke being named Champion. Since it makes more sense for them to receive the invitation while in a position of influence, Orlesians like that kind of thing. Plus having defeated the Arishok (and how you did it) also factors into an Act 3 play.

Isabela and Aveline have unique side quests during MotA unlike the other companions who only have Collection quests.

Legacy

Now canonically Legacy does take place in Act 3 of Dragon Age 2. I would recommend playing it close to the end of the main game, probably before The Last Straw. Partially because this sets up for Inquisition in the best way and in part because it lines up Cassandra and Varric’s scenes in it, with the timing of Varric’s tale (he goes to finish and she calls him out on omitting something).

Also during this quest Anders, Varric, and the Hawke sibling all have unique dialogues, important scenes, and banters that other companions do not receive.

DAI

Jaws of Hakkon

So this DLC really just adds a new region to the game, it can be done at any point. However, it is a high level area so you may want to do it later in the game. Of course it being a region, means you can always complete a few quests and come back to finish them later.

There are a few lines of dialogue that can change depending on if you finish the game or not before playing this game. But they are relatively small and shouldn’t affect when you play the Frostback Basin.

Fun Fact: In the Dragon Age Tabletop RPG there is a campaign called Where Eagles Lair. The Avvarian Hold you interact with in the story is the same one who can (and in Bioware canon do) become the Jaws of Hakkon. I say can, because in the tabletop, your actions can stop them from seeking out Hakkon later on.

The Descent

This DLC might actually be best finished at the end of the game? Since it is completely unrelated to the main story of Inquisition and actually sets up for Trespasser kind of.

Plus The Descent has all the enemies levelled to your current level, which makes it a bit hard to beat when you are the lower levels and easier at higher levels. Of course, it depends on if you mind the challenge or not.

You could, however, play it like JoH and finish parts of it bit by bit.

If you do decide to run this DLC at the end of Inquisition though, be warned some of the companions will be unavailable obviously. This goes for Jaws of Hakkon too, if you decide to not finish it before the end of the main game.

[overthinkingfeathers]

4, 9, 26!

Straight to questions that are going to get me in trouble with mutuals! I like it.

4. Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they a popular OTP?

I guess it depends on how you define NoTP. If it’s ‘under absolutely no circumstance will I read/look at this content,’ then I can’t think of any off hand. I reserve the right to take that back if anything horrific comes across my dashboard, but so far, nothing’s hit that mark yet.  

If it’s ‘I’ll only really look at it for a mutual’ then, uh, things are about to get awkward in here, because Templar!Carver x Merrill. Active templar (who had more info than most joining and still made that choice - and I’ve read great meta on how it might have been the best choice he had at the time, but even still) with a blood mage? In Kirkwall, a city where a blood mage’s options upon being caught are Tranquility or death? Ehhhhh. I get that for shipping purposes it’s easier to have Templar!Carver, because honestly, half the times he shows up as a Warden make no sense (the Wardens have great timing, obviously), and it’s hard to ship two characters who are almost never in the same place, but templar/mage pairings are always difficult at best for me. Recent templar in a city with the harshest Circle/active blood mage in that same city just doesn’t work for me. But they’re a rarepair, so it’s not a common thing to see regardless. 

If it’s ‘I hate 99.9% of the content for this pairing and thus don’t even bother with it (except for mutuals),’ Fenders. They have such an understandably tense relationship in canon. It can work in total AU settings, but for anything approaching canon, I have to see some evidence of how they got to that point - growing compassion and understanding, lessening animosity, moves towards begrudging friendship, tension over misunderstandings and backwards steps that come with any enemies to anything nicer than enemies. Instead, most of what I saw back in the days I bothered was usually ‘everything is canon compliant except now they’re cute and flirty.’ I dislike it strongly. While I do wish they had developed a better relationship over the years in canon, and I think some of the choices made there were nonsense (specifically the deal with the demon/give Fenris back), their initial hate makes so much sense for both of them, and I feel like it does both characters wrong to pretend like they should have immediately become besties. I don’t know how popular that ship actually is. It seems pretty popular, but I also have multiple mutuals who ship it, and I think a good quarter of my ‘recommended for you’ section devoted to it most of the time, so I could just be getting more exposure to it than most. 

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why?

For whatever reason, I read this question in terms of characters you’re supposed to like - companions, basically. And honestly, if we’re just going by companions, Oghren. I wanted to like him. His story was interesting, and I was sympathetic to his position (lost his wife, lost his standing, eventually gave up his home to try to redeem himself). But 95% of the time, his conversations were isn’t his excessive drinking hilarious and/or bodily function jokes and/or repeated sexual innuendos towards every female companion, and all of those things are major turn offs for me. 

If we’re talking all characters across the Dragon Age franchise, it’s a toss up between Corypheus and Elthina. Corypheus because he had such potential - original Fade walking magister, around since before the Blights were a thing, able to find these broken and downtrodden people and make them into great leaders, even the fact that he’s being secretly manipulated by someone else - and they basically didn’t utilize him well. He’s your standard destroy the universe so I can rule it villain. He must have done so much careful planning throughout, but it all disappears by the end, and he reverts to just destroy things mode. His final fight was a snooze. It was disappointing. 

Elthina, on the other hand, is brilliantly written, because she’s disguising her power plays as incompetence so well that almost everyone falls for it, at least at first. ‘Oh I couldn’t possibly help the mages,’ she says, when she’s literally the only person in the city who can officially step in between Meredith’s increasing intolerance and everything else. ‘I guess it’s just the Maker’s will.’ Deliberate incompetence is like fingernails under my skin for me; deliberate incompetence that hurts people in the name of political self preservation is so much worse. 

26. Most shippable character?

For me, it’s Isabela, and probably not for the reason everyone would assume. She’s easy going and friendly, and she breaks down so many walls with people. She has insightful conversations with almost everyone - half of them are covered with jokes and flirting, but she’s smart, and she knows people. She obviously builds trust with pretty much everyone she likes; Merrill adores her, Fenris is willing to have a relationship with her (3 years later than Hawke and proclaimed just physical, yes, but presumably the marks still hurt and he still has trouble with his memories; that takes trust), both of the Hawke twins have good relationships with her, etc, etc. Even with people she disagrees with, she can still have insightful conversations with them (see, for example, Anders and the justice is like a bar brawl conversation). In the long run, she can get almost anyone to open up to her. It’s a rare thing. 

And I just want her to find love so much, and I feel like she can have the ‘love isn’t always something you can prevent’ (aka you’re worthy of love, and you’re a good person in the end) conversation with someone other than Hawke, so it’s entirely doable. My ultimate OTP with her is with Merrill, but I think she could have a good relationship with a lot of people.

[b1odeuwedd]

I’ve created the first two pages of my design document. Huzzah!

At the moment, I’m swamped with writing projects, so doing this has been hard between all of those. However, I’m finding time anyway, and it helps that my project is light on heavy commitments like art; I can write fast, and most of the information I’m putting in is also in my journal entries, so I can just pull from those. At this point, the points in the outline are my main areas of discussion, but as I go I might add on more examples, lenses, and information from other people. That Shawn Allen talk that I found last time was unbelievably helpful;  it shaped my project in the way that I wanted and needed to shape it.

Speaking of, the continuation of my take on his bullet points:

Give your player character (or character in general, for this project) their own worldview One of the things that I love about Fenris is that his opinions on the world around him are very strong, very black-and-white, and biased by his backstory. So are Anders’. You learn their experiences, and thus learn the way different parts of the world treat people, through their arguments and what they say to the main character Hawke. Not only does this do away with the “marginalized characters as apolitical shells or 1-dimensional beacons of purity” stereotypes by writers too afraid to make their characters political, it also gives a non-flavortext lore lesson to the player. It also fleshes out the characters and makes them more like actual people. People have opinions! Even if they consider themselves apolitical, they have opinions, they react to the world around them. So should characters.

The need for more than 2 One of the reasons some character writers opt for the apolitical shell or the beacon of purity type of marginalized character is that there are only one or two characters of that type in the entire game. It causes the character to be seen more as a token than a person, which marginalized people have to deal with enough. Having more than two black characters, for example, gives you more room to make them different types of people.

Not from Allen, but I wanted to write out this section because it’s in my head. Listen & hire The best way to learn how to write representatively is to listen to the types of people you want to represent, and hire them to work on writing teams. Nobody knows better the experiences of latinx people, or gay people, or trans people, than those people themselves. It’s hard enough for marginalized people to get jobs because of industry discrimination, and people of more than just privileged backgrounds can bring a lot of insight and experiences to a written world.

[ageofdragon]

Supernatural trucker AU? Please tell more!

Alright, it’s kind of one of our younger ones that we work on only when we are driving to like the airport in Washington D.C. at 6 in the morning or to a convention center (for a comic/anime/game convention) at night. But I’ll share what we do have so far.

The premise is that Everett Hawke (the older twin and daniel’s) and Niul Hawke (mine, younger) both work for a trucking company owned by Isabela. They do long-haul team trucking together with their little dog and sort of moonlight as ghost whispers, but not on purpose.

Like they didn’t even mean to come to know about supernatural things, but ended up finding these things in the liminal spaces that are truck stops, rest stop starbucks, and 12am Wafflehouses.

For example, there is this one starbuck rest stop on their usual route. Everett and Niul would stop there for drinks and this one guy who works there that promises to fulfill people’s greatest wishes, but the twins kind of shrug. They’re good and live decent lives, they don’t really want anything. So it frustrates the hell out of the guy, to the point every time they stop in at this particular starbucks he is there and offering something. Money, Fame, Sex, ANYTHING. But no, they just want a caramel macchiato and a mocha latte.

And eventually, the twins realize this guy is crossroads demon and just accept that crossroads demon Zev makes one hell of an Americano, is a pretty okay guy, and is a good friend. While Zev complains about how awful human food service is and how he sometimes just misses the days when you could buy a soul on a dirt road for 10 years of sick guitar skills.

Anders is a client they truck for and that Everett goes on “not” dates with when they’re in town for a delivery. no idea what Fenris does yet though.

Isabela and Niul are technically a thing too, like when they are out on the road and can afford to stop at an actual hotel or something he’ll call her and they’ll talk for a while. Sometimes Everett talks with her too and/or Merrill will join in on Isabela’s end, Merrill working for Isabela but also having more insight of the weird supernatural things that happen to them out on the road.

Also, the tiny dog. It’s Niul’s dog and he doesn’t always bring it with him, but sometimes he does and it freaks Everett out sometimes. Like they’ll pull into one of the liminal bubbles and Niul leaves the truck for whatever reason, this dog will turn its head towards Everett and talk to him in a very deep, deep voice. Everett just stares and listens to this dog talk and accepts it’s just another weird ass supernatural thing he has to deal with, except all by himself because this never happens when Niul is around. Is the dog possessed? Is it not a dog and something else? Is it just Everett who is being haunted???? NO IDEA! (but it’s probably justice or something latched onto everett or the dog).

Edit: Oh! I also forgot, they also find this batman (kind of mothman-ish) in the road during one of their drives and Everett pulls out a sawed-off shotgun (courtesy of Merrill) to see what is up with this bat guy. Anyways, he is like shaved and has a bunch of stitches and track marks. So Everett offers to give him a ride and help this guy out, because it kind of is their side job. He ends up talking with the bat guy and finds out that he was experimented on, essentially some people were trying to make an artificial shapeshifter (because actual ones exist) and it’s pretty fucked up. He basically escaped before they could kill him and so Everett and Niul spend an arc helping this bat guy get used to being a part of the supernatural community, while also coming to terms with himself. Which Niul gets to wake up and find out about all this later, when he sees giant bat man in their truck.

Bat guy is actually another Dragon Age OC too, from our tabletop (Antivan rogue guy, who is based off of pete wentz)