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@aclassikrem || Liked for a Short Starter
“No - truly, I am absolutely certain I would never be able to battle as you do. With all of the training in the world I wouldn’t compare to you and your group.” The elf had heard much about them during his visit to Skyhold, after all; gossip travelled fast. “I think I’ll continue being the weedy little thing that makes you guys look good.”
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"Solas, I've been wondering, how exactly do spirits come into existence? Have they just always been?"
“No. Spirits are born, for lack of a better term, from thought; idea; feeling. If the feeling is prominent enough on this side of the veil, a spirit embodying the essence of it will be quite literally willed into existence. It is for that reason that we so often see demons more than any other kind of spirit. Vices and ill will have gripped and outnumbered all else in this age.”
starter for @aclassikrem​
The Herald’s Rest was as loud as always, soldiers seeking relaxation and the calming presence of the bard as well as the sweet-spoken waitresses and waiters. Dorian could see the Chargers in the midst if another story about some kind of escapade, yet one person was missing from their group. Looking to the right side of the room, Dorian located Cremisius Aclassi, who was presently nursing some ale. Two Tevinters, seemingly alone in a bar but for a different reason - Dorian could tell that Aclassi was always protecting the Iron Bull’s blind spot whereas in his case he had not managed to make …friends with most people in Skyhold. Deciding against his better judgement, and knowing a soporati who had fled the Tevinter army would hardly entertain an altus, Dorian took a chance. His gait short and swift he approached the man, grey eyes contrasting the dimness of the tavern. “Lieutenant Aclassi?” he asked, wondering how one ought to make conversation with a compatriot who hardly was one after all.
@aclassikrem, continued from here.Â
“... I am not sure what it is you want me to say.”Â
@aclassikrem
     ✖ Seheron was nothing like he thought it would be, but upon further consideration Kaey couldn’t decide if that ended up as a good thing or a bad thing. He knows that Mettius had served before -- before he became a Magister -- && he overhears him describe how much had changed since he’d been to the island last; yet, his master seemed to remain confident in the face of these new challenges, assuring his counterparts that things would be different from then on, that the war would change in their favor. Kaey didn’t believe that.
   The elf had seen soldiers, both fresh on the docks && weary in the sunken, muddy camps. Different people said different things && he wasn’t knowledgeable enough to know who was right && who was wrong. All he knew was that he would serve the four years with his master, amidst the human soldiers && the other slaves, neither party very welcoming -- he wasn’t a soldier yet he certainly wasn’t like the typical slaves, && that separated him from both. No, he had purpose, a mission as an assassin, && a worth that warranted a guardian.
   Cremisius Aclassi was that guardian, the man who would harbor the Magister’s special slave, ensure nothing bad happened to him && that he did nothing bad. He’d never even asked why he wouldn’t be with Mettius for the duration of his service, but he also knew that the only answer he would’ve gotten was a backhand for his insolence. But Kaeyonari was hopeful, though also nervous; he didn’t even need to see the way the soldiers looked at him to know that he had every right to feel that way. The orders were clear -- no one touches him && he doesn’t touch them -- but he’d heard enough to know that those orders would be forgotten within a few weeks, then he’d be at the mercy of his commander, && he didn’t yet know what to expect from him.
   “Aclassi.” The assassin looks up when Mettius speaks, the tent flap opening then falling back into place behind a soldier, short && dark haired && clearly accustomed to battle. His armor denoted his rank && just the way he carried himself was enough to assume the way he commanded his men, how seriously he took his position. && this was an honor, though the task was more or less glorified babysitting. “I’ve heard good things of you, it’s why I offered you this job. I’ve been assured you’ve been told what I expect, that you understand?
   “He has his own orders, && he knows what he has to do.” He being Kaey; it wouldn’t do to refer to his slave by name, even if he wasn’t like most. At least, he reflects, he wasn’t an it. “If you have any issues that you can’t deal with I’ll have someone fetch him, but he shouldn’t be any trouble.” When the Magister looks over he lowers his head, the implication obvious. Yes, he’d already been briefed his bit in private, && he knew the cards that lay on the table.
   “&&, if all goes well, you’ll certainly be in a position for promotion. I wish you luck.”
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@aclassikrem replied to your post: “Ridiculous. ”:
Solas, you offend him with your hobo-chic. Those robes are hideous and insult the son of a tailor.
Listen Krem, the Real Question is who exactly do you think will manhandle you more, hmm??
♡ always down for banter
Send me a thing for some banter // Accepting Selectively
 for @aclassikrem, under a cut for length purposes.Â
”Pick a god and pray.”
LINES I’VE HEARD THAT ARE RAW AS HELL: A SENTENCE STARTER PACK Â
@aclassikrem
“I am way past believing in any,” Hawke quipped, though he was being completely serious about the matter. It had been a long time since he’d believed in any higher power, any Maker … And his disbelief in it all only grew stronger with every person he lost.
