#blightcd

{ Starter for @blightcd​ - “Loghain” }

  Outside the palace, the wind whistled and howled through the narrow streets. The rain poured from the sky in relentless, heavy sheets - but none of those sounds could soak through the thick stone walls. No, oppressive silence hung very heavy in the small, windowless room, save for the soft crackling of the fire and the muted, raspy sounds of a man’s breathing.

  Elissa Cousland sat in a chair next to his bedside, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, and her chin resting against her clutched hands as she watched Loghain’s chest rise and fall. Even her friends who still held her dear and supported her choice thought her a bit mad for choosing to forsake rest in favor of this. Memories of her own Joining had driven her, or so she told herself. She hadn’t had to wake from those nightmares alone - she would not let him do so either.   For a short few hours at least, this bedside vigil had given her a twisted sort of reprieve from the death and chaos that’d been forced on all of them by the Blight. Nothing else existed outside of this room, in these moments. Not until he woke. Not until the dawn broke and a host of new difficulties and challenges lay before them.

 Until dawn broke on the first day without Alistair...

  The thought drive a hot spike of pain into her chest, and she drew in a sharp breath through her nose, clenching her jaw tightly enough to hear it pop in an effort to choke back her grief. He’d been her friend. Her brother. Her sweet, shining light that gave her hope everything could be alright in the end. And with a single choice, he’d turned on her like a rabid dog, unable and unwilling to listen to any reason.

@blightcd​

Ethan should have gone back home, together with his kid - Rose - and that boulder punching asshole. Should have stepped into that helicopter, left this hellhole of what has once been a Village behind and return to where his old life was waiting for him.

But he was here instead. Together with the former iron Lord, one who had gained his freedom at last, but now was... well. Stranded. Had managed to survive, though, had kicked Miranda’s ass, had stepped in as soon as the blond’s body had given in, surrendering to the amount of strength that bitch had been returning at him with brutal force and determination.

But she hadn’t expected Heisenberg to be there. To have his ugly, horrendous cybernetic-form get a good grip of her head, just so he could rip it off her fucking torso.

And then... It had been over. Just like that. The father had protected his kid, had managed to rescue her, to bring her back to safety. Had reached his goals.

It did surprise the exhausted engineer quite a lot to see him here, surrounded by the remains of what had been homes to people once. Just standing there, watching as Karl came closer. The one who had reached his goals as well, but now... had nowhere to go. Had to start from scratch, had expected to be alone - lonely, as always.

DIALOG PROMPTS - accepting // @blightcd ✧

     A volatile mixture of excitement and absolute dread courses through Elyse's veins, making it nearly impossible for the mage to sit still. The swirl of emotions manifests either as a shaking of her leg or tapping of fingers. The Winter Palace loomed upon the horizon - a place that both thrilled and TERRIFIED Elyse to her core. The sensation of fingers carding through her hair helped to ground her and settle the anxiety furling and unfurling within her core. She couldn't help the gentle sigh the fell from her lips or the sheepish smile that came to follow.

It still threw Ghilas off, to hear unfamiliar elves call him 'da'len'. Especially when that elf wasn't old and withered. Even outside of the Inquisition, Ghilas was a Keeper, after all. The one turned to for guidance and advice. He usually called others da'len, rather than the other way around.

He was not thrown off, however, by Felassan's 'demand'. In fact, Ghilas was tempted to tell him to 'get in line', as his hands were often full with the many people who wanted 'just a quick word'.

{ Continued and copied from here. @blightcd - “Anders” }

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  @blightcd - A gift for the warden-commander, what did you get someone who could get whatever they wanted when they wanted? Not like Anders knew the answer, but he would act like he did. Always. Picking through thoughts throughout the entire morning, going to and fro between merchants and his own personal items, anyone might've thought for once he was being a bit more diligent in his errands.

Ah, but there it was! Only after hours of looking naturally.  Of course with his luck he was lucky it didn't take the entire day just to end up empty handed. Picking at the taunt red ribbon strung around the box as he wandered to the door of the main hall in search of the gift's recipient.

❝Oh, perfect. Always right where you need to be when I need you.❞

It was a gift at this point. Like a mabari could track it's owner without much of a thought. ...Maybe not the best comparison if he thought about it, but he didn't need to right now. Presenting the simple box with little flair for once. Inside lay a simple enough broach, nothing fancy maker knows he didn't get paid that well to be shelling out on friends just yet.

❝Ignore that this is a holiday namely for lovers and children and just accept it. I don't take back gifts.❞

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  Elissa sat on the carved wooden throne at the head of the main hall with her head dipped, a curtain of unbound, black hair falling over her shoulder and concealing one side of her face. Dressed today for the role of a Fereldan Arlessa, Elissa was focused on the report in her hands. Ever since the defeat of the Mother’s horde not quite three weeks before, the Vigil had been an endless parade of merchants, engineers, dignitaries, and representatives. It was the brass tacks of governance, and a role for which she had been trained in well enough, in addition to combat. It almost felt like...

If the Blight had never come... If her life had been normal...

 Giving a heavy sigh, Elissa brushed the half formed thought from her mind. It didn’t matter what it felt like...

“Oh perfect. Always right where you need to be when I need you.”

 The sound of Anders’ voice snapped her out of her intense focus with a startle and a gasp. “Andraste’s ass, Anders! Wha...”   The Commander’s ire was quickly replaced by a passing look of confusion as he presented her the simple, red-ribbon wrapped box with a flourish. It took a moment, and a blink or two before his words sank in, and she gave a small huff of laughter, and reached out to take it from him with a smile... “Anders... Is this what kept you in Amaranthine today?” she asked, looking up at him through her lashes with the lightest shade of pink flushing her cheeks. 

{ Starter for @blightcd​ - “Anders” }

It had been a month since she’d first set out for Denerim without specific explanation as to why, and now Elissa’s chest felt tight with anxiety as she handed off her horse’s reigns to the stable hand upon her return. It baffled her logical mind as to why, though perhaps part of her was worried that once the ‘leash’ waiting for her friend outside the Warden fold was cut for certain, that he’d take the opportunity to abandon them. He certainly wouldn’t be the first to do so to her.

Alistair had turned on her with a potent viciousness that broke her heart when she’d spared Loghain. Morrigan, whom she’d loved as dearly as a sister, had left without so much as a goodbye once she had what she wanted. Even Loghain - the closest thing she had left to a mentor and father figure - had left her. She’d begged him to stay long enough for her to appeal to Weisshaupt to reconsider his assignment to Orlais, but he’d refused. And then he left, and she was alone. Again.

She couldn’t say she would blame, or even be angry with Anders, if his leaving was what indeed came to pass. Still, it would hurt. Her hand strayed to the small, plain pouch on her belt to reassure herself that it, and its precious contents were still there.

Circe Sentence Starters (Accepting)

Circe Sentence Starters (Accepting)