FORSWORN.

RULES: share four songs / pieces of music that represent your muse! repost, don’t reblog!

tagged by: @shieldtheself ( thank u !! ) tagging.  @descarted @rotlaust @ulfhrafnx @seahaloed @ilianchant @copiesofme @ghilannainguideme @mercyburned @nxthero & steal this meme ! 

this charming man -- the killers ft. johnny marr.

‘Why pamper life’s complexity? / When the leather runs smooth / On the passenger seat.’

la vie en rose -- lucy dacus.

‘And when you speak angels sing from above / Every day words seem to turn into love songs.’

titus groan -- aldous harding. 

‘My king drinks from gold / My king drinks from gold / My heart needs no gold.’ 

whisper -- serpentwithfeet.

‘You can place your burden on my chest / The best parts of you lie at the bottom of you, bottom of you / I love you from the space beneath my feet, and beneath that, and beneath that / My love for you runs so deep, oh / Love says you are not too much / Love says you'll always be enough / We don't have to be different passengers if we'd rather be cuffed in this / Leave it all right here / There's space for you right here in this home / In this home of my body, in this home / I love you so much / Whisper it to me.’

“Perhaps an opinion to you, but a fact to many others. The Grey Warden’s may have some use, but they also have proven to be far more more dangerous than suspected. The more people that know that, the more people that will want to destroy the order entirely - i hope for your sake you understand that fact before it’s too late.”  

@firstknight 💖 for a starter !

              as if there weren’t plenty of other things going utterly poorly,  you’d at least hope the constant traveling , combat , negotiating with incompetent fools would be enough to knock you out the moment your head touched the bed roll.  the dreams—  nightmares  ,  were basically the cherry on top.  exhaustion quickly turned to frustration as you quite literally tumble out of the makeshift tent, your step only hesitating when you eyes fall on the other. a small smile,  albeit forced, graced your features as you settled by your fellow grey warden,  out on his watch.

              “  – go ahead and get some more sleep,  i’m going to be up anyways i’ve been tossing and turning all night.  ”   your voice is rough,  yet your eyes are steady enough to believe the claim to be true. tapping lightly on the scrap leather that bound you journal together, your quick to chase away any suspicions that something may be WRONG.  “  y’know i shared a bed with my cousin for… forever,  the ground really isn’t that much worse and yet here we are.  ” 

@ilianchant​​ sent: “Can we just... can we stay here for a moment?“ Alys asks, her eyes tired.

The treck from Redcliffe to Denerim had been their longest yet, Alistair frequently peering at the map to ensure they were touring the correct route, only passing the occasional inn or exchanging brief greetings with cart-dragging refugees fleeing the south. There was rare time for diversion and exploration, the party only able to rest their journey-sore feet  after setting up camp. The road ahead was long, but after all they’d endured; the scourge of undead pouring through Redcliffe and the chaos barely contained in the Circle, a hiking trip was a welcome respite -- stabilising, much like recovering from a state of unrest and inhaling a long, replenishing breath. And just knowing what they were doing, seeking this Brother Genitivi to save the arl, Alistair was generally perky with optimism, only complaining about the ache in his heels twice during the past few hours.           This didn’t hold true for everyone, however, and it is only when Alys calls for a break that he notices the slightly drawn look to her face. She had been quiet, moreso than usual. Now that he makes the effort to remember, any conversation the two had shared today was minimal and stagnant. 

@bloodyd sent:  pulling at the collar of his shirt so that she was able to reach him, stood on her tiptoes, she presses a feathery kiss to the corner of his mouth, "you’re way too tall."

@copiesofme​ sent:  "Alistair. You are not making that atrocious.. whatever that was for the evening meal... are you?" from Leliana , cause hi hello!

@oxix asked:  Could you re-imagine Alistair in Skyrim; the WoD; a slasher universe?

Adapting him for Skyrim would be painless because fantasy genre... of course, the lore is different and respecting those differences is where my knowledge fails me!!! I imagine he would be a companion who can carry all the dragonborn’s cabbages, the most likely faction he would be a part of would be the Companions themselves or Dawnguard. Buuuuuut I prefer the idea of adapting the Grey Wardens to the Elder Scrolls universe, even if the potential for werewolf Alistair is Rather Sexy.           As far as I’m aware there’s no monarchy ?? As much as there is an empire... so I don’t know whomst exactly in title he would be the prodigal prince son of...

As for World of Darkness... you know my default is Vampire the Masquerade, and I’m much more familiar with VTM than I am Beast the Dreaming, Hunter the Whatever or Werewolf the Apocalypse. Although I feel Beast would lend itself to some neat symmetry with how the Dragon Age universe handles the Fade, no matter how much more sense that might make, my mind automatically boomerangs back to mall goth leeches...which Thinking About It and considering the Joining...           My instinctive clan choice for him would be Brujah, especially since Ferelden is founded on rebellion and he himself dissents against being crowned, meaning adapting him to the Dark Ages in WOD terms. MAYBE instead of repeating the whole Arthurian ‘lost prince’ narrative, there’s more focus on how it’s unknown to himself and many others that he’s Brujah since he was made to believe he’s one of the Low Clans (Gangrel probs) until discovering the Truth. Final Nights wise, A Chad Goth undoubtedly ... maybe the Grey Wardens were a ‘mythical’ order who upheld the Masquerade protecting kine and kindred alike from the Sabbat, presumed to fall into obsolescence but still functioning in secrecy.

For those who don’t know, Sophia is my Surana..

Alistair: I heard you last night -- when you were on watch. Singing. Sophia: Oh? Are you sure you weren’t dreaming? Alistair: If I was dreaming you would be singing to me ... so no, I was definitely awake. Sophia: [Laughs] Very suave. You must remember how it goes, then. Alistair: Only the melody. Something like [low humming]. Is it a lullaby? Sophia: Actually, it’s a dirge! Alistair: The way you say that... it’s like when Leliana finds a pretty pair of shoes. You can be very... eerie sometimes. Sophia: So you won’t want me serenading you later, I take it. Alistair: Well, I didn’t say that exactly. 

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