My Soul is My Own

Ny’Ari stared wide-eyed at the Inquisitor. Her face briefly mirrored shock before she let the mask she always had plastered to her expression fall over it. Be calm. Be a friend. Don’t get attached.

She had been stationed inside the ballroom of Halamshiral by Cullen by one of the doors. Ny’Ari had asked the commander to be placed at the Gates. He has given her some spiel about needing his strongest in the ballroom in case something happened. It turned out she had been needed. That was a surprise. The soldier still suspected that was just coincidental. The Commander just didn’t want suffer alone. That Ass.

Still, Ny’Ari reached up to grab Salem’s shoulders and spun him around so he couldn’t see the pretty rose color beginning to stain her cheeks.

“Go dance with Da’Era, Inquisitor. The Duke of Cyril De Montfor t has been making comments all night about wanting to climb her like a tree.” The elf gave a slight push to the qunari in the direction of his sister, keeping her head down. “It’s the red dress.”

“’Vash’ll be fine, she’s not into rich fops like him.” He replied, rolling his eyes. You’d think he was torturing her with the suggestion, and his smile only grew when she tried to redirect his attention. “C’mon, maybe get a look at the crowd as we do? I want one person who hasn’t called me an ox to have a dance, and I promised my sister she’d get one when we figured everything out.”

He still wasn’t sure why they put a party on for all of the peace talks, nor why they couldn’t just shut it down and reschedule, but he’d never even heard of The Game before he joined the Valo-kas. Maker, life was simpler when he just had to take the jobs that Shokrakar handed him and move on.

             “The Inquisition, was it?”

Fenris arched a brow. He’d heard of them. Even sent a few freed slaves their way, upon learning that they seemed to be taking in refugees. But that was where his interest with the organization had ended. He had his own role to play. 

             “No one for you to concern yourself                with. So long as you do not get in               my way, I have no intention of getting               in yours.” 

“Yes, Venatori presence has spiked,         so I came out to see why.”

Okay, so they weren’t in any danger at the moment, but the question of what to do with their ambush still stood. It was the kind of moment when he had to think like an actual leader, not a rogue with some training in being a lieutenant. Only one elf on the hill with him, with more then a fair share of blood to be spilled a few hundred yards away, and plenty of lives that could be over with one bad move. No fucking pressure.

Found HERE for those who still want to take it

Starter Call! || Accepting

His bare feet are silent on Skyhold’s overgrown flagstones, padding between tent after tent, cot after cot. Once, before the Conclave, he’d never seen so many people in one place in his life, but now there is another reason why he feels so uneasy. The looming presence of a concerned Tal-Vashoth at his shoulder, unsurprisingly, doesn’t help in the slightest. “ We have so many injured here… so many dead. ” He squares his shoulders, tries to lift both his voice and his spirits, but the tents are numerous and hard to ignore. “ But with what Corypheus planned, it could have been so much worse. ”

                         @spiritsandstealth

Salem had never seen so much pain and death in one place before. Sure, he’d seen his fair share of blood in the Valo-kas, but nothing like this. Any people killed by the Valo-kas went quickly and with dignity, and those injured were patched up and taken prisoner if they surrendered. It was clean for the most part, and the sounds of pain and dying left him feeling lost in the crowd of wounded and panicked healers. Here he was, back from the dead, and he had no idea how he could help. 

i Tried

Mahvash’s fingernails are usually kept long and rounded, and she only trims them if the nails become weak or if they break down. She generally keeps them long because she likes to slide the pads of her fingers along the edges when nervous or lightly run them up and down her leg. 

In modern verse, she likes to keep them stronger with clear polish, which she generally has to carefully apply and sometimes has Salem help her clean it up.