#quantumstargazer

Now this one. This one was interesting. So rarely did Felassan get to meet other ancient elves anymore.

Not that this one was ancient. Not by a long shot. But they were similar, to the ancients. The spirits who had taken elven form, as Felassan himself had a long time ago.

He's not sure Ward even knew what they were. And Felassan certainly won't bring it up.

"So, you're one of the ones who moved into the Lighthouse, hmm?" Felassan walked around the old stomping grounds of the rebellion, an ache in his chest that he couldn't quite put words to. He was sure the words would come in time.

@quantumstargazer asked: ✎ = speaking in a different language. (Izzy, the chaotic polyglot that she is, at least tries to learn a little of her closest friends' languages so as to not always rely on translators and/or Galactic Trade Standard - how successful she is depends on how hard it is for a human to mimic)

Garrus was heavily focused on the datapad in his hand, one that was showing data from the main cannon and other ship functions in real time so he could monitor it without being in the main battery at all times. His eyes were glued onto it until he heard Shepard say something odd that he had never heard before, so odd that he popped his head up to look in her direction to see where she was. Once he located her near the fridge, he sat the datapad down on the table and scurried over to her.

"Were you just speaking my language?" he asked with a shrug. "Could have sworn you just said, 'find the light within' in my language." The turian was used to Galactic Trade Standard as the language that most people spoke and rarely heard anything else without the assistance of a translation device. He had a translator, Shepard had one, everyone had one. To actually hear his language outside of his home planet was something he never expected.

"It's from a book, if I remember correctly." His head tilted to one side as he asked, "Does that mean you've read a turian book?" Garrus had so many questions about how and why she learned any bit of his language, but he didn't want to overwhelm her by asking everything all at once. Still, she had piqued his curiosity and he wasn't about to let her get off without some sort of explanation.

"Didn't know you knew any other languages. But I'm not surprised."

@quantumstargazer said: 📝 + Baldur's Gate

Send me “📝 + (fandom)” and I’ll reply with a character I would RP from that fandom    /    ACCEPTING ↷

Morrigan thought she had hated her for what she had done. Yes, she saved her life but at the expense of their relationship. The one thing that made even her happy during the Blight. She wants to defend herself but what is there to defend? Ashina's right. There's so much guilt for leaving her, and now she is here simply to... h e l p.

The hormones from the pregnancy (or maybe her own emotions) make her look away. Tears threatening to spill from her eyes and she has to take a deep shuddering breath. The hold Ashina still has upon her is immense, and she wants to reach out for her. To apologize and ask her to come with her - but is that possible?

Flemeth is still a danger; somehow, someway, she feels that in her bones.

"You were... no, are everything." She finally allows herself to admit it. Her betrayal came from a place of love. It was the only way to save her and now their unborn child grows in her stomach every passing day. Her stomach covered by her hand as if to find some comfort in this moment. Because by the gods, whichever ones, Ashina looks more beautiful than she remembered. Even now when they're in disagreement, her gaze always return to those beautiful brown eyes...

All she wants to do is hold her right now.

"Please, trust me, when I say I thought I was doing what was best." There's a shake in her voice. Desperate for her forgiveness even if she doesn't realize that's what she wants too.

a mun ask / accepting

A look of distaste, as if she had just offered him a glass of muddy water. Where did this conception about devils with fiddles even came from? Nonsense. He would rather play the harpsichord. “I am a patron of arts, my dear, not a roadside vendor seeking a duel in the dirt.”

He glances at the metallic weapon in her hand and dismisses it with an eye roll. “Your little projectile-thrower. . .do save your limited resources. Shooting me would be as effective as trying to drown a fish, you would only succeed in making me wet more irritable.”

His smile returns, performative. “I do not require your soul today. In fact, I insist you keep it.” The devil met her eyes with unsettling directness. “So let’s dispense with the bravado, shall we? Somewhere in that pretty little head of yours, you know I’m the only one who can actually help you.”

There’s a snap of his fingers, a burst of flame, and when it goes out, he’s holding a bottle of blue liquid: Serrice Ice Brandy, liquor taken directly from the Citadel.

@quantumstargazer asked:  you could have died , what were you thinking? //for Vilma from Ward

“Oh, I wasn’t. Well, other than that you could have died.”

The qunari grinned up at the elf from their sickbed, only wincing a little as the gashes across their face pulled at the motion. Half their face was covered in bandages, the vision from that eye obscured as the medics took no chances with infection. A gash over or near the eye was bad enough…one caused by an ancient skeleton? She couldn’t say that she minded their zealous care.

Still, she would be lying if she said that her own death had not flashed before her eyes as she shoved the slighter necromancer out of the way of the blow, especially as clawed fingers had raked down the side of her face, sharp fingerbones piercing, the scent of her own blood-

Hm. Well. Vilma had never been accused of an over-abundance of thought, at least.

Their smile faded as they reached out to clasp the other’s hand between their own, their one visible eye trying to express the depth of warmth and care they felt for the other young necromancer and their whole body leaning slightly forward with their earnestness.

Funny, how things changed. He's gone from assassin to friend in little time. Yet she would fight for him if he asked and technically he has asked every time he does a foolish move in battle. "Tell me if it hurts anywhere else, Zev."