of wounds mended

@anexdoche liked for a starter

❝And you wish for me to join your Inquisition… why?❞

The mercenary took his time descending the stairs of the Val Royeaux alley, tugging his gloves tighter on his hands and eyeing the so-called Herald with obvious skepticism. He was fully aware of what had happened at the Conclave; the Mothers had been raving about the Divine’s death and the abandonment of the Templars endlessly. Rowan had also bore witness to the scene in front of the fountain –from a comfortable vantage point, of course. It was only by chance that the Herald and his party had encountered him disposing of a… corrupt noble.

Casting his eyes over his shoulder in the direction of the single splatter of blood that had been left behind, Rowan turned once more to face the small group. His features soon pinched together again.

❝You know what I am, oui? What I do for money?❞ They did not need to know that the jobs he chose were very specific regarding the scum he dealt with. He was more interested in hearing their response first.

     For such a beautiful city, Val Royeaux has left a sour taste in Fenael’s mouth, and he’s only been wandering through the lavish buildings and glitter-dressed people for an hour. The market was extravagant, and everything in it’s... exorbitance had driven him to convince his party it was time to follow up on a lead for a new agent.

     Of course he’d read Leliana’s reports on the man. Approaching him without would’ve been foolish, but that still didn’t leave him prepared for the blood. Or his looks. He’d sounded far more intimidating on paper.

@elfxque

Pin my muse. | ACCEPTING!

     Fenael is normally rather better at smoking out rogues before they can get to him and do him harm. Electricity likes to travel between suits of armor, after all. But this battle - no, this entire day - had been anything but normal. He’d left himself open by casting a barrier on his companions, but not himself. After all, the glyph could only reach so far, and they were quite a distance away from him.

     As if he’d been waiting for this moment the entire time, a lone rogue darted out of the shadows to put his dagger through the little elf’s back, and he only just missed thanks to Rowan’s swift intervention. And though he just missed, that didn’t mean he hadn’t done any damage. Leather and fabric tore, as did skin, and Fenael let out a sharp scream of pain as he was pinned to a wall with Rowan’s back to him.

There were those who might be frightened to feel a hovering presence materialize so close to where they worked. But Cole had the distinct ability to make himself small in spite of his towering appearance. He was a meek and mild thing - just as surely as he could be overwhelming - tall and lanky, but he could slip by undetected should he wish it. Hovering as naturally as the shifting shadows cast by an individual body, moving with the change of light. Touching here, relieving pain there, leaving impressions of his existence but never quite stepping far enough out in the open to be known.

Sometimes he interacted with those he mingled amongst. Sometimes it was okay that he did so even if his existence could cause a slight rise in wariness to well up, instilling caution but also a sense of curiosity. The unknown triggered that response in some. He didn’t take offense. He didn’t think it as anything other than a natural reaction.

“Hello, Inquisitor.” He greeted, a simple but true way to acknowledge his call. He knelt down on the ground on his haunches, a rather uncomfortable looking position to hold, but Cole was nothing if not unpredictable. One never could tell how they would find him, though they could guess it was mingling among those who needed him most, or sheltered off in some solitary corner of the world, observing…

“Do you like the snow, Inquisitor?” What an odd little question when considering the environment they lingered. Cole had the tendency to throw unexpected hitches in the process of conversation, defeating expectations, or at least, formulating something of that metaphorical question mark above the heads of those he approached.

     In the case of Cole, feeling him approach from behind has never been terribly disturbing. Well, it had been at first because Fenael wasn’t used to him yet, but now - that problem is nonexistent. He always feels... happy knowing there’s someone else who wishes to help those hurting around him. Although, Cole does do it far differently than he himself does it.

     Turning away from his last patient of the day with a little kernel of worry lodged in his heart for the man and the pain he would have to endure, the Inquisitor smiled brightly at the spirit-turned-boy, hands dropping to his hips. It would be best not to dwell on the negatives now. All would be well in time. All is well, in fact. He has company.

     Company that’s asked an... odd question.

Rick made it very clear to Morty in the beginning of their adventuring that he was not to explain the portal gun to anyone, they wouldn’t understand it, and Morty was determined to stay by that promise.  Rick might have pissed him off by abandoning him in some unknown dimension again but the young boy knew where his true loyalty lied.  He’d have to find a way to answer that question without giving the portal gun’s secrets away.

“I-I came here through a portal my grandpa invented back on our planet,” so far so good, nothing too specific.  “H-he’s this really crazy science guy who’s always coming up with inventions a-and stuff like that and he… I’m pretty sure he sees me as an invention– tester.  W-whenever he creates something it’s.. he calls on me a-and I come running.”  Morty inwardly cringed at just how accurate that was.  “Today he pulled me aside a-and had me test his new portal!  It’s– I think I’m gonna give it an A+… when he gets here.”

     So he really wasn’t of this world. And certainly not from the Fade, either. Spirits and demons often took far different forms. Spirits, for example, could be called from the Fade - a realm of magic and danger beyond the waking world, kept separate by a vibrating energy called the Veil - to perform certain tasks, and usually left very peacefully. Many were tiny wisps that chattered incomprehensibly and bobbed excitedly in front of new objects. Still others looked twisted and strange, as if they didn’t know how to shape themselves in a world with rules beyond the lawless planes where they’d been born. Only one had ever come out shaped like a person and stayed that way, and that was Cole.

     Demons, however, were another matter entirely. Gruesome and ugly, mostly, and always lying to try and possess a body that would grant them permanent freedom from the Fade. Many were the embodiment of the good intentions of spirits gone wrong. Still others were simply bitter monsters. Only people who used their blood or succumbed to the creatures in their sleep could bring them over into this world. Or, as of more recently... someone who could tear holes in the Veil without either of those conditions could also bring them over. An awful concept.

     This boy seemed neither of those things, regardless, and that was both a comfort and a curiosity. Spirits he may like, but if he’d been a demon... that would’ve been awful. Head tilting in curiosity, Fenael’s lips pressed together in a thin line as the boy described the kind of person his grandfather was. “How rude of him,” he murmured, brows pinching in worry. “Sending you somewhere unknown and not following to keep you safe? What if you were hurt? I admit I wouldn’t forgive him if you had been and I’d only found you then. I may be a healer, but...”

     Fenael has probably seemed off to those in the Inner Circle ever since he’d walked once more out of the Fade at Adamant Fortress. His days were spent in far quieter corners of Skyhold than normal for such a social butterfly of a little elf. His trips to work with the healers in the infirmary had become fewer and fewer until they’d stopped completely. War table meetings were shorter. Finally, he’d taken to roaming aimlessly - sitting alone and trying to close out the pain haunting him behind tightly closed eyes.

     He wanted to forget, but with every heaving breath he only remembered more. The Nightmare demon was most certainly getting its revenge for his victory, and that vengeance was inescapable fear and pain.

     The Iron Bull joining him on the battlements had been the last thing he’d expected. Perhaps, even, the last person he’d expect to come and try comforting him - at least until he considered that the big Qunari seemed to have his own... problems, when it came to demons. It made his presence all the more comforting and appreciated.

     Scooting back on the battlement wall, Fenael pulled his tiny legs to his chest and hugged them close to him for warmth. Shaky hands ventured downward to grasp at his frosty toes and rub the feeling back into them. He certainly had a point - enough to make him smile for the first time in what must’ve been days. “Thank you, Bull. If I’m to be wearing shoes instead of having both my feet amputated, however, I think I may need company while I go to my quarters to retrieve them.”

name:   lukas

nickname:   luke, lukey, pukas, trace (bc my middle name is tracey), chirps

zodiac sign:   pisces

height:   5′2″

orientation:   pansexual/panromantic (i lean a lil more toward masculine presenting people sexually but feminine presenting people romantically?? it’s really confusing life is hard)

ethnicity:   white

favorite fruit:   watermelon, tbh

favorite season:   spring

favorite book:  i’m gonna just say my two favorite book series? eragon and percy jackson and the olympians.

favorite flower:   roses

favorite scent:   see this is weird bc it’s hard for me to pinpoint names of smells i like. i just know i like them. thanks sensory probs.

favorite animal:  fox. if you want to see me break down in tears of happiness please for the love of god send me fox videos. they cure my depression.

coffee, tea, or hot cocoa? tea. tea with way too much sugar. so much tea.

average hours of sleep:   work nights: 4-7 hours. when i’m off work.... 9-13 hours. i.. i really like sleep.

cats or dogs?   cats. dogs intimidate me. mostly. not all.

favorite fictional character:   excuse me this is too hard. it’s continuously changing. fenris. takashi shirogane. edward elric. aa??? ?

dream trip:  germany only fuck america i’m never coming back.

when was your blog created?   ummmm. exactly a week ago. 5.2.17

what do you post about?   this entire blog is rp but also me crying about how much i love this boy. my personal blog however is mostly memes, self depricating memes, and shippy stuff. i haven’t posted on it for like a month.

do you get asks on a regular basis?   ;;;; lol nah

aesthetic:   nature photos. soft blankets (they are a very good stim), and... idk. i’m weird.

favorite band/artist?   this used to be such a hard question for me but. hands down panic at the disco i am obsessed. to cheer me up bc i’ve been doing... terrible lately my roommate got me a rly cool panic shirt.

fictional characters I’d date:  dorian pavus prolly. he’d never get my hands away from his ass. it would be problematic.

Hogwarts house:  hufflepuff.

TWO

countries I’ve lived in:   america

favorite fandom:   uhhhh. right now it’s dragon age. some time ago i may have said voltron but they can fuck themselves on a rusty pike.

languages you speak:   english; vague german.

favorite film of 2016:  deadpool. #drive-by is a creed to live by.

last article you read:   some shit about trumple stiltskin’s approval rating with his supporters never being higher. “i never saw a russian in the voting booths” please tell me republicans aren’t that stupid

shuffle your music library and put your first three songs here:   colorful mind - broken iris | through the wire - attention | lonely hearts club - marina and the diamonds

last thing you bought online:   uhhhh.... a sailor scout bikini for a joke cosplay i’m doing with my friends at an upcoming con. we are going to be a confusing group. i’m ready to laugh.

how would your friends describe you?  v friendly with a good sense of humor. sweet bean who tries so hard to take care of others that he forgets to do anything for himself. th ese are quotes from people i asked and let me just say they are Wrong i succ.

how would your enemies describe you?   a selfish piece of shit, a theif, total asshole, someone who takes joy in scewing others over. also wrong but because i don’t succ that bad. i was Very Bad at adulting for a good while. it made enemies of people who used to be my best friends. ahahaha rip.

who would you take a bullet for?   my friends. i love my friends so much. i don’t think i’d be here without them.

tagged by: @ombrexelfique