ladyofsnark

[ladyofsnark]

i’m gay but i’m always gonna choose the well developed straight ship over the 2 bland and incompatible white dudes that have 500,000 fanfics written about them. you guys just hate women.

[ladyofsnark]

(I might make this a small series, I'm not sure. I've always been fascinated by the idea of an Avvar Inquisitor so here we are.)

“I’ll stay until I get what I want. After that, I’m leaving.”

“We cannot protect you if you leave. There are still those who think you are guilty of the Divine’s murder.”

“And who would tell them where I’ve gone, Spymaster? You’re not interested in protecting me. Otherwise you wouldn’t be making such thinly veiled threats. You just want to use me like your people always use mages until, like spoiled children, you cast them aside when they cease to amuse. I would respect you more if you dragged me about in chains. That, at least, would be honest.”

“There are hundreds of innocent lives relying on the Inquisition to seal the rifts!”

“Then I suggest you get working on a solution, Seeker.”

“Do you think you’ll be any safer from the demons on your own?”

“Why wouldn’t I be, Commander? I have the mark.”

Varric had heard the whole argument go down–the whole camp probably had. It seemed like their Herald of Andraste didn’t care much for being a herald of anything and, frankly, Varric didn’t blame her.

No one had asked her if she wanted to be involved. It seemed like nothing but shitty luck that put her in the wrong place at the right time and she’d only stopped the Breach from growing because, well, what were the options? Rot in a cell while the world went to hell? Let the mark eat her alive?

Not to mention that the reverence of Andrastians probably didn’t matter much to an Avvar mage. He would write later that it was probably some kind of divine justice or just irony that the so-called Herald of Andraste turned out to be a pagan.

Varric watched the Herald storm pass without even a glance at the messengers and servants who bowed to her respectfully. Cassandra followed closely on her heels, but Varric reached out to catch the Seeker’s arm. It was more of a reflex than anything and he let go right away when she whirled around to look at him. “You might want to give her some space,” he said. “Unless you intend to arrest her again, in which case I suggest stronger chains than last time.”

            Cassandra snarled and wound up for a rebuttal, but the fight went out of her just as fast. She looked after the Herald and let out a long breath. “We cannot lose her…”

            “I’m sure Red’s on it already. She probably can’t get too far, what with the world having just almost ended.”

            That didn’t seem to reassure the Seeker any. She began to pace in front of the fire. “She is an Avvar. They are skilled rangers and outdoorsmen. If anyone could disappear and survive in these mountains on their own—demons or not—it is one of their kind.”

            “And they don’t worship Andraste, so being a religious icon for a religion you don’t even believe in is probably a lot to take in,” Varric replied. He dropped back onto the bench nearest the fire and reached for Bianca. He had been fiddling with the crossbow’s timing coil before he’d been interrupted by the commotion. “After almost dying, waking up, almost dying again, and waking up again she might need a second to put it all in order.”

            Cassandra heaved a sigh and paced for a few moments longer. Then, somewhat reluctantly, she turned to face the dwarf. “Would you…” She frowned to herself, as if annoyed with her own words. “You are better with people than I am.”

            “No, Seeker. You have such a charming personality.”

            “Ugh, now is not the time, dwarf. I am asking if you would go and speak with her.”

            Varric glanced in the direction the Herald had gone. It wasn’t that he was a coward, but he did have a healthy, long-standing respect for women who could kick his short ass. Especially when they could do it with magic. “That’s a pretty big favor to ask considering where you and I stand, Seeker.”

            “It is not as if I am not asking you this for my own sake, Varric.”

            Great. Chantry guilt. He wondered if they taught that in the cloister. Sebastian had been good at it too. Not convincing, but good.

            The dwarf sighed and got to his feet. “Fine, but Curly better come with me. If I’m going to deal with an angry Avvar, I want a sacrificial lamb to offer her.”

*

            Ysara. Varric couldn’t remember if the Herald had introduced herself or if the Seeker had done it for her, but he did remember the name as he hoofed it out to the edge of the valley. He remembered thinking it was a pretty name for someone with the personality of a bloated gurgut. Which wasn’t fair. She hadn’t been in a position to be friendly at the time and still wasn’t, really. Cassandra wasn’t the most solicitous person in the best of circumstances and as a jailor, she rubbed in all of the wrong ways. Then there was the Nightingale…

Varric eventually found the Herald taking shelter from the howling winds in the treeline. She had the makings of a small camp with a fire burning bright in the center and a little lean-to constructed of tree boughs.

She seemed to realize, a moment too late, that he was there and surged to her feet, the fire beside her jumping to her hands as she drew from it. It almost looked like a reflex.

“Hey, it’s just me,” Varric said quickly, raising his hands in a show of innocence as he stepped into the clearing.

Ysara snorted, but her posture relaxed a little and the fire in her hand dissipated. “You’ve either grown an extra set of legs that wear armor or it is not just you.”

“All right, it’s just me and Curly,” he amended. “But mostly me. The commander’s just here to look pretty.”

She scoffed again, echoed by Cullen as he came out of the treeline, but lingered on the edge of the fire’s light. Still, the Herald settled back down on the snow. The fire plied harsh shadows across her features, but without the ghoulish warpaint Varric had first seen her wearing, she looked downright delicate. Young. Vulnerable. It wasn’t something he’d have naturally associated with one of the Avvar and it made Varric think of Hawke when they’d first met. His chest ached a little with the memory.

“You know, you have a pretty nice cabin back in Haven,” Varric said conversationally as he came over to sit by the fire. He put enough space between them to make her comfortable. “Not to your tastes?”

“Nothing is to my tastes at the moment,” she replied, though her words lacked venom. She just sounded tired. Lost, almost. “Did you come here for something?”

Varric shrugged. “The Seeker asked me to talk to you. She won’t admit it, but I have the reputation for being quite charming. That’s apparently supposed to give me some kind of advantage here, but you seem to have your mind made up.”

Ysara’s eyes shifted toward the treeline, pausing briefly on the commander, before returning to the fire. “If your people bothered at all to understand magic instead of flinching at the faintest wisp of it and caging your mages like feral animals, the mark would not be needed,” she said.

“You really believe that?” Varric asked.

“The Breach was created by magic, which means that it can also be undone by magic. But your church has spent hundreds of years cultivating a flock of ignorant, superstitious hand-wringers they control with fear and hate. They use and then cast aside mages, as Andrastians did to the elves and as Tevinter does with slaves.” Ysara looked Varric directly in the eye. “I have no interest in helping people who have never helped themselves. Let the vultures pick their corpses clean. I care not.”

Well. He had to give her points for honesty.

And what was he supposed to say? That she had to be the hero here because they didn’t have anyone else? No one sane wanted to be the hero. He knew that better than anyone. Was he really supposed to ask her to throw herself on the sword for people who would never give her the time of day otherwise?

Varric rubbed at his face and decided to take a different tack. “What exactly are you looking for?” he asked. “You said you wanted something.”

She shot him a furtive, skeptical glance. “What I need is in Redcliffe,” she admitted at length.

“Ah,” the dwarf murmured in understanding. “You need to get into Redcliffe and the Inquisition is your ticket inside. What if the Inquisition decides it doesn’t need the mages?”

“The gates are not keeping me from what I want,” she replied. “If I chose to use force, I would already have it. But I won’t attack another hold without cause. So I will wait.”

Well. Ysara certainly didn’t lack confidence and given what she’d done to that pride demon at the Temple? Varric didn’t doubt her either. “It must be pretty important,” he said. 

“It is.”

“And I’m guessing you aren’t going to give any specifics.”

“No.”

“Not even if I offer to help?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I will not hand anyone the power to control me.”

Varric made a quiet noise of understanding. Now that made sense. This wasn’t just a case of being cold-hearted, nor was it anger born of being caught in the middle of a shitty situation. It was anger and isolation born of fear. Ysara was just trying to keep her head above water and protect what was hers. He glanced back over his shoulder toward Cullen, who he could see anxiously rubbing his neck, like the mage’s words had unsettled him.

He wondered what was in Redcliffe that was so important to her that she thought others could use it against her. 

“All right,” the dwarf sighed. “Look, I’m going to say my piece and then I’ll leave you alone, all right?”

Ysara answered with a shrug.

Which was the closest thing he’d get to acceptance, Varric thought. “No one asked you before throwing all of this shit on your shoulders. And no one’s saying you’re wrong to be mad–least of all me. I’ve seen what the worst parts of the Chantry can do and I’ve seen it drive good people to do awful shit in return. But the fact of the matter is that the ones with the power–they’re all dead. They got a nice, quick death. Their flock won’t be that lucky. You might not owe them anything, but this right here–” He waved a hand to indicate Haven and everything else. “This might be the only chance we’re going to get to change things for everyone–the only chance you’ll get to change things. And if you ignore it, you’ll be just like everyone else who let themselves be controlled by fear.”

The Avvar was still as she sat, staring into the fire. Varric saw her hands clench and for a second, the fire in front of her brightened and grew hotter, the center of it turning into a molten, burning blue for an instant before it settled again.

“I will help the Inquisition however I can until we seal the Breach,” she said, eventually. “After that… we’ll see.”

Varric almost pointed out that that wasn’t really all that different what she’d said before. But he supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers and this time she had at least offered to help, instead of presumably letting herself merely be dragged from place-to-place. At any rate, they weren’t in the position to demand anything more

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #writing #avvar #the inquisitor

[ladyofsnark]

Tag your favourite flower, fruit, colour, scent, season and tea!

#lilacs #strawberries #purple #jasmine #spring #chai

[ladyofsnark]

Honestly, I can't imagine the inquisitor being anything BUT angry and resentful of the inquisition when they're first "recruited".

When you mention wanting to leave Cass and Leliana immediately jump in with "Oh but there are others who will kill you because they think you're guilty."

Bitches, how are they going to find me if YOU don't tell them? Also, what kind of protection racket is this? "Oh but you're not our prisoner except if you leave others will kill you."

That is the literal definition of duress by imprisonment.

I get it that it's a necessity because end of the world, demons, rifts. But don't piss on me and tell me it's raining. The Herald was literally never given an actual choice.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition

[ladyofsnark]

Sorry, got sucked into Beauty and the Beast and remembering why it's my favorite Disney movie:

A lot of people now probably think Belle's love of books and stuff is "not like other girls" garbage, but the thing is that there's important historical context there.

People back in the 18th century thought reading was BAD for women. They thought women weren't capable of high enough thought to process anything complex (hence why math was rarely taught to girls) and reading was seen as genuinely detrimental. Gaston's not just being a hilarious misogynist when he says women shouldn't be reading all the time because it'll give them ideas and make them think. THAT WAS LITERALLY THE THOUGHT PROCESS OF THE DAY. GASTON WAS THE NORM.

Belle's dad probably wasn't just thought of as a kook because of the inventions and stuff. Belle's dad saw value in his daughter and didn't consider her wanting to read and learn and explore to be odd at all. That was absolute barking madness back then.

Women were simultaneously seen as innocent, empty-headed children AND wild, emotional animals that needed to be tamed by their husbands. Women were expected to do two things: find a husband and have his kids. That's it. And if she didn't then she was radical social misfit. Hell, look up the concept of 'apeleaders'. Women who never married or bore children were told they were going to go straight to hell for specifically not doing those things.

Belle wasn't just oh weird quirky teehee no one gets her. Belle was genuinely, out of this world bizarre according to the norms of the 18th century. She had NO interest in Gaston, even though he was probably as close to a Darcy as that town had--desirable, handsome, breathing. The idea that she was just straight up not interested? Absolute madness. Insanity. Put her in the asylum.

(Also the movie clearly takes place over the course of at least several months as we see autumn and winter pass into probably early spring. Belle wasn't suffering Stocklholm Syndrome and I'll fucking fight anyone who says otherwise.)

#Beauty and the Beast #Disney princesses

[ladyofsnark]

reading jane eyre reaffirmed my long-held beliefs that 1) the institution of marriage should be abolished 2) religion is a joke 3) teachers should get paid more 4) if a sexy man ever offers to set you up in a luxurious mediterranean villa filled with jewels and give you half his net worth, accept the offer 5) if a different sexy man ever offers to take you with him to india to be his servant while he brainwashes colonized peoples until you both die from impoverished conditions, do not accept the offer

#straight facts

[ladyofsnark]

full offense but none of you would have ever survived fanfiction.net in 2009

[ladyofsnark]

i saw a post on twitter by a european saying americans are fake for their random compliments to strangers and their general cheery demeanor and like no. no no no you don’t understand. if you get a random compliment from an american on the street about your outfit or whatever, that is 100% genuine. we mean it. we aren’t lying we are making a small but fleeting connection with you because our lives are shitty but the human condition is enduring. oh god i’m clutching my chest

[ladyofsnark]

How is anyone supposed to be normal after that. G-d looked back at me for a minute

[ladyofsnark]

i highly recommend for women and girls to be intellectually curious and difficult to shame

[ladyofsnark]

I'm telling you rn, once I get back my ability to sleep, my libido, my appetite, my motivation & I stop neglecting every aspect of my life it's over for u bitches

[ladyofsnark]

duality of man

#a few thousand stabbings #and breaking the fabric of reality

[ladyofsnark]

Hey you know what's super funny about the idea of "good bi rep"?

For a character to be canonically bi you have to make sure and establish that they're attracted to multiple genders. Not all mediums allow you to get inside every character's head or show what they're thinking. Flirting can be read ambiguously, and god forbid they flirt with a character who's not into them and be read as pushy or predatory. So it can be super handy to just mention an ex or two! But you better not mention too many exes because that would make them a slutty bisexual which is (checks notes) bad, and you definitely better be careful about making them poly, because that might make them, uh... greedy. Oh, and those exes? They better be perfectly amiable breakups with no conflict or drama, because it's bad to represent queer people in toxic or abusive relationships (especially queer women! very bad), and you definitely can't have them have lost a partner if the partner was queer because that's "bury your gays..." You should probably also eliminate all trauma from their backstory, just to be safe. You should probably also make sure they're not involved in crime, deception, or anything of the sort, because that would make them "deviant" and a stereotype.

But don't worry! Once you've carefully crafted your nice, monogamous, experienced-but-not-too-experienced Lawful Good bi character, you will be rewarded with your audience deeming them "boring" and quickly passing them over for other characters. :)

[ladyofsnark]

fun story about what made me irrevocably attached to the Baldur's Gate series:

I played BG1 way back. Like back in the days when you got a new computer it came with half a dozen CDs that had games on them and this one came with BG1 (I think it came with the computer at least, I'm pretty sure).

This was also back in the day when games like BG1 came on six separate CDs that you had to switch in and out like you were operating an old fashioned switch board. It's funny to think that nowadays you could probably play the original Baldur's Gate on a toaster, whereas back then every time you were going to enter a new map you had to consider it very carefully because that might mean having to switch out the CD again and your PC fan was working harder than a teenage boy's deodorant

Anyway, I was like 11, I didn't know dick about DnD, I inadvertantly played as a Chaotic Evil psychopath (how was I supposed to know that stealing shit and murdering the guards who came for my ass was "immoral"?), and I only finished the game because cheat codes were the shit.

Anyway, I eventually learned that there was a sequel and I really, really, really, really wanted to play it. But never got to.

Cut to about 15 years later on my birthday and my brother hands me a thumb drive.

"What's this?"

"So, you know that game you really liked when you were a kid and you never got to play the sequel? The sequel was on sale for like five bucks on Steam."

I screamed. I cried. Not just because of the game but because my brother somehow remembered some incredibly obscure memory from the depths of our childhood and how no one else wanted to listen to me recount the plot to this stupid game, but he did.

And I've probably clocked like a few thousand hours of my life on this stupid game that I go back and replay religiously.

(what do you MEAN that a 20+ year hyperfixation on a game should've probably been my first clue that I had ADHD?)

[ladyofsnark]

I can’t ever leave tumblr because I just love the tag function.. no other social media platform allows you to heckle yourself on your own post. you get to preemptively make metatextual commentary abt your OWN POST. how cool is that

#this is exclusively how o use tags

[ladyofsnark]

Jean Paul Gaultier Spring 2024 Haute Couture

[ladyofsnark]