#herrcolonel

@herrcolonel:   [ corner ]    /   meme.

                   𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑬𝑳 𝑰𝑵𝑺𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑼𝑷𝑶𝑵 𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑨𝑵𝑵𝑨      being accompanied during her trips into town,   but   she   insisted upon being alone.   it was better that way,   easier to get what they needed and quickly return to the farm.   but,   shosanna was in  desperate  need of new trousers.   all of her’s had holes in them,   BEYOND   patching.   she’d tried,   but there was only  so much  she could do and they would simply tear again in a few days time.

                  so,   she found herself in one of the stores just outside nancy.   hyper vigilance  has taught her to   CONSTANTLY   be aware of her surroundings,   and there’s one thing that she’s aware of now.   something’s not quite  right.   with her recent encounter with an old enemy,   her paranoia has only worsened.   perhaps it’s all in her head,   but she can’t shake the feeling of  eyes  boring into her.

                  attention diverts from the pants she was inspecting,   turning to scan the room behind her.   LANDA.   he’s already approaching her and it’s at such a pace that it’s almost  daunting.   slow,   yet fast enough she can’t get away.   hands abandon the clothing,   planning to make a narrow escape for the door.   but,   a hand around her wrist stops her dead in her tracks.   it’s pulled,   twisted to force her to face him. 

                     𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑹 𝑯𝑨𝑫 𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑫,      but it left behind a lifetime of   SCARRING  &&  TRAUMA   shosanna,   having moved back to nancy and repurchasing her family’s farm,   wanted nothing more than to build a life for herself   —   something resembling normalcy.   though,   life for her people was still far from easy,   things had improved from what they were.   that was something she could be   GRATEFUL   for.   her new life was quiet,   most days spent tending to the farm with marcel.   they no longer spent their days in fear,   in hiding.   they began to felt comfortable once again.   comfortable enough that shosanna was expecting her first child in a few months.

                    the morning dew had just begun to dissipate from the pastures,   breakfast still left half cleaned up.   marcel was already outside,   tending to the animals as she was left in the home to finish the cleaning.   after that was done,   she would do the washing and hang the clothes to dry in the late summer sun.   it was almost the   PERFECT   life     ——    almost.

                    shosanna’s in the middle of setting dirtied dishes into a wooden tub when she hears a   RAPPING   at the door.   they didn’t often get visitors,   aside from one of the neighboring farms.   brows knit together,   creasing as the dishware is abandoned to answer the door.   the face behind its wood is perhaps the   LAST   face she expected to see.            hans landa.

the sound of boots skidding across the fine powdery rubble dusted over the cobblestones resounded between the townhomes, a bitter breeze howling with it. peter can’t keep himself upright and he falls ungracefully to the ground, cursing his inability to pick up his damned feet. the palms of his hands start bleeding and he can feel the cool air through the knee of his now torn trousers. he stops abruptly, trapped out in the bleak, empty street. he sticks out stark against the grey destruction that stills over the town. 

blue eyes meet blue eyes and peter worries that the sound of his heart racing is as audible as the sound of german soldiers in the distance. he glances down quickly, remembering his pistol, hand going to his hip. it isn’t there. his gaze travels back up and he swallows hard. the navigator stands slowly, deliberately and his chest puffs out with faux confidence.

which post?

gross. what does it say about the mac tirs

i will literally sit around like an overly devoted dog waiting for you to post bits and pieces of this fic so i can swoon over them i s2g

[buries face in hands] u r 2 kind

therealdragonnerd (who is fabulous by the way, go appreciate her thoughts as she has a ton of them to peruse) just put up an interesting thought concerning Justice and whether or not it’s the Taint that makes him the bastard he is credited as in DA2 (my choice of words on that, not hers).  Not having played Jaws of Hakkon or even DAI (damn core-heavy programming!) I can’t really judge about the elven gods versus the Taint.  But I have tooled around Awakening and DA2 and I’m going to venture the answer that Justice’s transformation into Vengeance has nothing to do with the Taint and everything to do with the mire that is humanity.

See, if you spend a lot of time raising his approval and talking to him and doing the personal quests concerning Kristoff’s wife and mementos, he says something very telling.  When talking about the widow, he mentions being able to see Kristoff’s memories, and eventually wends around to admitting ‘feeling envious of their love’.  As the embodiment of a virtue, this is entirely foreign to him (he says as much), but the longer he’s in a human host (even a deceased one) the MORE he experiences emotions as we do. 

First comes the envy, of the depth of feelings and the things shared between Kristoff and his wife.

Then longing (or desire) to return to the Fade and shed the complications of physical form.  I would say there’s a big difference between his in-Fade desire to save the people trapped there and the longing to get out of the physical and back into the familiar

[I might be getting the order of this wrong because it’s been a minute since I’ve played, but I remember his dialogues about these feelings]

Anger was always present in Justice though; his responses at the witch’s gates in the Fade indicate a tendency toward very proactive anger-like response to perceived injustices (I’m not saying the witch didn’t have her ass-kicking coming, I’m talking about things like when he declares pet ownership to be slavery and therefore not right).  His merging with Anders didn’t so much MAKE him angry as give him more things to be angry (and warped) about.  Anders, bless his little tortured soul, has a lot of very ugly memories of the Circle; even the bright spots of cats and Karl are tainted by their endings.  And you know what happens when you sit and stew over wrongdoings; it gets monstrous in your head.

DA2 is where his lust comes in; a lot of people tend to forget that lust isn’t just about gettin’ that sex.  Justice/Anders isn’t JUST about undoing the Circle to make the plight of Mages easier, he/they are actively out to punish the whole system setup from Templar to Chantry.  That’s why his target isn’t the barracks or the Gallows; Anders might say that it was to remove the option of compromise but that’s horseshit (if you ask me).  The Revered Mother was a mediator, but ultimately just another support of the system that perpetuates fear and distrust and power imbalances between mages and Templars; she had to be punished and made example of, and I think that’s a big indicator of the lusts that Justice/Vengeance is experiencing.

That’s four of the major sins right there without really reaching for example (I don’t think anyway).  I would also accuse Justice/Vengeance of pride, given the ‘you either totally agree with me or get bent’ mentality (either you recognize he’s right or you are a peon unworthy of education cuz you’re just totes too stupid to “get” it) but that’s debatable and I know my justification comes down to how I take his/Anders’ dialogue.  Greed and sloth are the only two deadlies that I can’t really think of examples he would meet if we follow the initial statement that “no scholar could tell where Justice ends and I [Anders] begin”.

Of course, that statement gets undone between Anders’ borderline pro-slavery-so-long-as-it-gets-rid-of-Fenris banters and his romance dialogue where “Justice disapproves of you” bits, which I still don’t know if that was meant to be heavy-handed foreshadowing or just inconsistencies in writing.  Somebody who knows better than I could answer that (and frankly I hope you do because I’d really like to know!)