#thom ranier

For years the pitch around AI companions was about appearance. Make her look how you want, and that was the headline. Talk to anyone serious about it now, though, and the conversation has shifted toward something less obvious: who she actually is. On sweetdream.ai that shift is built into the workflow, where personality and a detailed life story sit right alongside the visual design.

The reason becomes clear in use. A backstory gives an AI girlfriend something to react from. Give her a stubborn streak or an old ambition she never finished, and SweetDream's chat, which is unusually natural and keeps track of what you have told it, will let those traits surface across days of conversation. She remembers, she circles back, she has opinions that fit the person you designed.

Cassandra

Blackwall

The Iron Bull

Cassandra

Dorian

Vivienne

Solas

Dorian

Vivienne

Solas

Sera

Varric

Cole

– ARCANE FILTER SCREENSHOTS –

Inquisitor Ellena Lavellan

Inquisitior Ellena Lavellan, Part II

Inquisitor Asha Lavellan

My Other Inquisitors

Companions Part I

Companions Part II

Companions Part III

Advisors And Leaders Part I

Advisors And Leaders Part II

Advisors And Leaders Part III

Various Inquisition Characters Part I

Various Inquisition Characters Part II

Thanks for the ask, @ghostoffuturespast! From the WIP Game Ask

Reparations/Restitution/Recompense (?)

Heyyyy you found the non-Cyberpunk fic! This is technically named "Blackwall" in Drive but one of the ones above will be the actual title. It's a Dragon Age: Inquisition fic that centers around, well, Blackwall. Tall, dark, handsome, brooding, beard... how could I not fall for him? I loved his story and wanted to let him redeem himself for Trevalyn in Trespasser. I really adore this fic, and really, really need to finish it. It's at maybe 97% completion, I just need to finish the thing. It's also in first person, something I rarely do, but I really like it for him.

It is strange, resuming this name I abandoned years ago. Like an old suit of armor that doesn’t fit as it used to. It creaks and strains and I struggle against its constraints, yet there is comfort to be found in it.

I travel the Orlesian countryside alone, much as I did in Ferelden under the name Blackwall, helping where I can but mostly tracking down my former command who believed—wished, in cases—me dead. Some forgive, others do not. I cannot help that, but still I must try to make amends.

After some time away from Skyhold, a woman in a tavern makes it clear she fancies me and I allow her to take me into her bed. She is beautiful, though that is her only similarity to the Inquisitor. She is a welcome distraction, and I stay in town a day longer than intended before resuming my journey.

I write to the Inquisitor constantly, unsent letters piling up in a single journal filled with scratchy penmanship, covered with shaky lines from writing without light or while drunk, or both. She is my constant companion.