#trying 2 find out where arle was in the few times we DO see her and going down a rabbit hole of fuck fontaine and its layout actually!

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.

It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.

Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.

She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.

She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.

Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.

And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.

She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.

So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.

Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.

..A dangerous prize, too.

She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.

"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.

He looked out of breath, she noted.

The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.

He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.

"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."

Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.

But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.

So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.

If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.

Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.

What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..

The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.

So if not the prophecy, then what?

Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.

She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.

..A draw, perhaps.

The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.

She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.

Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.

She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.

She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.

"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."

All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.

With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.

Each piece had it's purpose.

Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.

She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.

It was almost too easy.

She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.

The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.

She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.

With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.

Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.

She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.

Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.

The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.

Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.

..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.

She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.

"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..

Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.

Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.

It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.

She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.

And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.

She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.

"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"

Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..

The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!

"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."

Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.

"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"

..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.

She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.

"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.

Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."

Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.

"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?

She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?

"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."

The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.

"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"

Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.

"Have you no answer?"

The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.

Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.

"I will kill them myself."

Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.

"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."

They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.

"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"

Did she?

"Will you help me?"

She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.

"..Yes."

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #imposter au #genshin cult au #genshin impact cult au #arlecchino #lyney #furina #you do NOT wanna know what i got put thru writing this fic #trying 2 find out where arle was in the few times we DO see her and going down a rabbit hole of fuck fontaine and its layout actually! #I spent like 3 hours looking it up and checking in game it gives me a migraine thinking abt it. ew #anyway trying to write a really smart character is surprisingly difficult when ur as dumb as rocks #also used an actual chess match for this and gave myself an even worse migraine trying 2 make sure i didnt repeat moves or smth #furina doesnt get a spotlight yet just imagine her sitting in the corner trembling like a wet kitten you found on the side of the road #arlecchino goes thru a crisis more at 11 #shes a tired single dad shes isnt getting paid enough for this okay #hands u a fic over half the length of the other THREE PARTS #ehe :] #is arle actually on ur side??? is she gonna double cross u???? who knows!!!!! #shes unpredictable she might stab u for funsies #anyway im gonna go nap in a ditch now this took SO LONGGGGG OH MY G-D #also just think acolytes who arent buddy buddy w reader and even resent them is so tasty #bc how r they supposed 2 know reader was a human vibing 5 minutes before their got eebied 2 teyvat.. #reader gotta roll up their sleeves and get 2 WORK sometimes murder IS okay #they gotta fix some shit around here and that means committing several crimes all at once. sometimes more #a group can be g-d (just got here) their dragon (neuvi) their cat (archon) their dog (wrio) and their wolf (arle)

[gren-arlio]

Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Part 3 of Waku Puyo Extras. (And a fairly big announcement for translations.)

Ah, I'm running out of images, the Waku Puyo images, so the tride and true "Post Manga panels I do understand," got me covered. If I don't got anyone on my side, I know the Waku Puyo Manga does. Amen.

(Context for this page and a few others is Satan having a nightmare about Schezo and Arle marrying, and wakes up in a cold sweat. It's so goofy, and seems exactly like a Satan Nightmare, but the art goes hard.)

Heya, Gren here, and welcome to Part 3 of Waku Puyo Extras, the series where I find random videos about a route and go off from there because, even though I'm in the English Puyo Puyo Community Discord and have been lurking in the lore channel for like 3 years, I'm not verified yet because I'm scared to speak to the Ciel Bot. So if a mod or something SOMEHOW sees this...what're the odds for one, and two, idk we can talk via DM's or somethin' about lore.

(I really do want to speak there someday. Seems fun, I'll probably quietly add some details for this game onto specific characters pages.)

That aside, I'm here today to provide the community with more text and stuff to read.

Today's post will cover the following scraps I found while looking for stuff:

A video where Serilly appears again. Once again, Schezo and Serilly speak to each other, small but interesting.

A video that has a Rulue encounter and...that's about it. I'm really looking for scraps. Today doesn't have a whole lot.

Talk about the Manga for a bit. I plan to do this for most of the Extra Episodes, since it seems fun to do. Gonna specifically talk about Schezo and Serilly because...you know with everything going on, I think it's a nice start.

However, the scraps will become actual meals sooner or later because of two simple reasons. The first is that there's a whole video I'll translate that...has ALL 3 CHARACTERS...trading with Witch, starting next week, and that'll be Waku Puyo Extras Episode 4.

Yeah this girl really won't leave alone, its been like half a year of this stuff. Oh, what I do to translate. Oh and the video has Succubus too IG

Witch still is my 3rd favorite character though for the lunacy I've dealt with from her. Joking aside:

The REAL announcement:

About 2 weeks from now, I'll be trying my best to translate Arle's Route for this silly game.

That's right, I'm gonna do another Route that totally didn't take me 6 months to finish the main storyline. Waku Puyo Extras will still be real, trust me, but they'll be like filler episodes like in Dragon Ball, bits I release if the current video I'm translating is taking too long and/or if I just randomly feel like it. I will still also be doing minor Schezo Route stuff as well, and still take requests for all routes, so as usual, if you got a goofy screenshot to send me, DM me.

Big announcement away, it's time for the videos themselves, starting with:

Serilly Stuff:

...I did say I'm scraping for stuff. These things are so miniscule in the grand scheme that you could probably come to these posts just for the comedy act I try to put up.

The episode posted has been fully translated already, being Episode 3, for the record. Imma just translate the Serilly stuff.

But with that;

Timestamps: (...They're at the start of the video, but there's 2 different occasions, so...rip?)

Serilly 1: (0:05)

Serilly 2 (0:32)

...I wish I were kidding, it's that little. Lmao

With that out of the way, this marks the Readmore section of the post. Thanks for reading if you're not interested, and let's continue if you're enjoying this.

Serilly 1: (0:05)

Schezo:

This is such clean water, I can cleanse my heart there...

...Wait! What's a Dark Mage doing getting cleansed!?

Woman's Voice:

What're you doing here huffing by yourself?

Schezo:

Hm? I remember this voice from Water Paradise...

Serilly:

It's me, Serilly.

Schezo:

Oh, what're you doing here?

Serilly:

When I'm here, it feels like my mind and body are at ease.

Schezo:

...Yeah, seems like it.

Serilly:

I know, right?

(...And so, Schezo talked to Serilly for a bit.)

Schezo:

...I better get going.

Serilly;

Okay, but...come back soon!

Schezo:

Yeah, if I ever feel like it.

-----

Serilly 2:

Serilly:

Oh! Mr. Schezo!

Schezo:

Hey.

Serilly:

You're really here again!

Schezo:

(W-Why am I blushing!?)

Serilly:

???

(Schezo had a small chat with Serilly.)

Schezo:

...I'd better get going.

Serilly:

Okay, but...come back soon!

Schezo:

Yeah, if I feel like it.

-----

Yeah, so some speech repeats itself at the end, but hey, Schezo seems to enjoy her company, a rarity nowadays. I'll go deeper when the manga portion comes up but so far, that's what you're getting.

And now, The Rulue Stuff:

This goofy video here is actually Episode 6 of the translations I've done here. I just missed a single talk coming from Schezo and Rulue. (Not even Minotauros. Guy is just nothing now.)

I'm not gonna timestamp this one because it's a SINGLE interaction at the start. I promise I'll make this up somehow.

So, with that...here's the interaction.

-----

Rulue Interaction: (Start of the video)

Rulue:

Oh, you haven't given up your chase, have you?

Schezo:

Mind your own business. In fact, you should be the one to give up!

Rulue:

No more from you. That magical item will be mine.

Oh-ho-ho-ho, good luck on your wasted endeavors. (She says efforts here but...why not make her sound more sophisticated?)

Schezo:

That magic item will be useless for a meathead like you.

Yes, for the sake of the treasure, I cannot lose!

-----

And...that's all for the translations. Not much, but I'll compensate with the manga.

For those who are unaware, Waku Puyo has a manga that wildly differs from the story of the game. Lot of characters got redesigns, most notably Witch, Incubus and Honey Bee have a MUCH bigger role, Lagnus is real, and tags along with Arle, (I'll talk about that next Extras Episode.) and even some new faces.

Since the 10 image limit is goofy, I'm gonna limit myself to specific things about the Manga. Plan is:

Talk about Schezo and Serilly because there seems to be a lot with them going on in Waku Puyo as a whole. I'll also mention Honey Bee too.

Lagnus tagging along with Arle, along with a couple of goofy pages I found.

Maybe Rulue's side of stuff...? This one I'm iffy on right now so currently it's in the air.

Since I'm unfortunately incredibly committed to my work, I decided to translate the Serilly section of Volume 2 and 3 of the Waku Puyo Manga. (For the most part...)

Here's how it goes.

It actually starts with Serilly hearing noises from the lower floors and becomes nervous at that fact, hoping her only friend, Satan, will come to help her. Schezo and Honey Bee (his ally who has the hots for him,) find her and realize that during the fight with Suketoudara, he said that she isn't exactly a fighter, and they should try to reason with her.

Due to the 10 image limit, I'm skipping a good amount of pages and really showing off highlights. However, I'll explain the thing entirely. Here is the Google Drive with the Manga, courteously given by Puyo Preservation.

Schezo then tries to chase her, scaring her, and he grabs her arm, which leads to this page.

Honey Bee is pissed at the fact that they're holding hands and all that, meanwhile Schezo and Serilly are about as shocked. Serilly begins to actually sob, asking them to not bully her, while Schezo asks to give him the orb, and if she does, she won't get hurt. However, he's swinging his sword, which causes Serilly to get more nervous, leading to Schezo giving Bee his sword to not scare her off.

Surprisingly...it works. Serilly isn't as afraid as she was before, and Schezo asks if she know where the orb is, to which Serilly stutters a bit. For no reason, Honey Bee tries to threaten her, leading to Schezo hitting Bee away.

Serilly says they can't have the orb because her "friend," Satan, told her to guard it. Schezo gets mad at that, saying that a friend should be there for you, not be barking orders, and Bee herself adds onto that, saying that if he was her friend, why did he lock her in a room?

Unfortunately, Serilly says that she doesn't mind being locked here forever, as if she leaves, Satan will hate her, and she'll lose her only friend. She explains that she's never had a friend and was bullied all her life, so she doesn't want to risk it.

Finally, Schezo has enough and says that she Satan isn't her friend, and that he manipulated her, leading to a similar case of what happening during the game...Schezo giving therapy.

Honey Bee insults Serilly AGAIN for her actions, and Serilly sobs while saying she's sorry for everything, leaving Schezo speechless after smaking Bee away. (Unfortunately, 10 image limit. Won't be seen.)

However, the 3rd picture below is when Schezo tells her to stop crying and that he'll...be her friend, if only she gives up her unhappiness, which she agrees to.

The events are similar to the Game, even the part where Schezo thinks that he feels like he's preaching, and doesn't care if she's happy or not.

As Honey Bee basically insults her more, Suketoudara appears absolutely livid at what Schezo is doing to Serilly, and...basically tries to drown him. However, Serilly doesn't want to lose her new friend, so she rescues him, leaving Bee and Suketoudara shocked, even though Schezo had to save her too.

Leading to this.

This beautiful artwork.

Schezo knocks out Suke for a bit, and he and Serilly look at each other, before looking away, blushing, leading Bee to get upset with both of them, saying they probably flirted in the water.

Even though Bee is pissed at how Schezo is carrying Serilly, they're both ok, but Schezo sustained a injury to his forehead, which leads to Bee comically trying to wrap band-aids around him.

Suke wakes up, saying that was the first time he ever saw Serilly help someone like that, which even she's shocked by. Bee though, says that it's natural to help someone you care for. Serilly goes up to Schezo, and gives him the key to the orbs. After that, Schezo tells Suke to bring Serilly away from the place, which angers him, but agrees to, before Schezo and Bee walk away.

However, Serilly yells at them to stop, before asking Schezo if he'll meet with her again.

Shown below is Schezo saying yes, if he ever feels like it, much to Bee's chargin, before they set for the door...which has Incubus in it.

While it's just a section, it's a really, REALLY good section, and I feel like a writer/developer really wanted Schezo/Serilly to be real so they went all out here. And props to them, they did it well, and made some cool scenes.

With that...I believe this it the end. See you all next week.

Hope you enjoyed the show.

#Youtube #japanese translation #madou monogatari #schezo puyo puyo #schezo wegey #therapist schezo strikes again #serilly puyo puyo #suketoudara puyo puyo #arle nadja #arle puyo puyo #rulue puyo puyo #manga translation #waku waku puyo puyo dungeon #puyo puyo #sega #sega saturn #extra content #wwppd #puyo

[manaquisition]

In Hushed Whispers: Briefing and talk with Alexius

Cullen: We don't have the manpower to take the castle. Either we find another way in, or we give up this nonsense and go and get the templars. Cassandra: Redcliffe is in the hands of a magister. This cannot be allowed to stand. Josie: The letter from Alexius asked for the Herald of Andraste by name. It's an obvious trap.

We need to stop arguing [2] How nice of him: Isn't that kind of him. What does Alexius say about me? Alexius made his move

- [2] Leliana: He's so complimentary that we are certain he wants to kill you. Josie: Not this again. Cullen: Redcliffe Castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden. It has repelled thousands of assaults. If you go in there, you'll die and we'll lose the only means we have of closing these rifts. I won't allow it. Leliana: And if we don't even try to meet Alexius, we lose the mages and leave a hostile foreign power on our doorstep. Josie: Even if we could assault the keep, it would be for naught. An Orlesian Inquisition's army marching into Ferelden would provoke a war. Our hands are tied! Cassandra: The Magister-... Cullen: Has. Outplayed us.

There must be a way: We can't just give up. There has to be something we can do. I don't think it's over Let's get the templars

Cassandra: We cannot accept defeat now. There must be a solution.

[1] Contact the Arl: Where is the arl of Redcliffe? I'm sure he'd help us get his castle back. This isn't worth the trouble We need another way inside

[1] - Josie: After he was displaced, Arl Teagan rode straight for Denerim to petition the crown for help. I doubt he'll want our assistance once the Ferelden army lays siege to his castle. Leliana: Wait. There is a secret passage into the castle. An escape route, for the family. It's too narrow for our troops, but we could send agents through. Cullen: Too risky. Those agents will be discovered well before they reach the magister. Leliana: That's why we need a distraction. Perhaps the envoy Alexius wants so badly. Cullen: Focus their attention on [PC] while we take out the Tevinters. It's risky, but it could work.

Dorian opens the door rather forcefully and marches into the room as if he owned it. Scout Jim is trying to catch up with him. Dorian: Fortunately, you have help. Jim: This man says he has information about the magister and his methods, Commander. Dorian walks up to the Inquisitor's right and looks around the war table. Dorian: Your spies will never get past Alexius's magic without my help, so if you're going after him, I'm coming along. Jim stands in the open door like he wasn't sure how it worked. Cullen (to the Herald): The plan puts you in the most danger. We can't in good conscience order you to do this. We can still go after the templars, if you'd rather not play the bait. It's up to you.

- The scene fades to black and shows the 'confirm operation' dialogue with Leliana giving the UI the side eye -

[Note: Choosing the mages will make it impossible to work with the templars] Redcliffe Castle and the mages who could close the breach are under the control of Magister Gereon Alexius, a Venatori cultist with an unhealthy interest in [PC] and the power to reorder time itself. He has 'kindly' invited [PC] to the castle - alone - to negotiate. It's an obvious trap, but Leliana and her agents can infiltrate the castle and remove the Venatori threat while Alexius's attention is diverted. A dangerous game, but it's our best chance.

The herald and her party members except Dorian walk away from a wooden double gate (around 4x3m) with two regular-sized doors. For some reason the gate is adorned by a huge Inquisition symbol, the door opens right through the symbol's centre on the blood channel of the sword. Two member of the Venatori await them, they're wearing the same outfit as Alexius earlier, just that their hoods are white and the armoured parts are copper. On top of their faces they're wearing black masks with some sort of antlers or perhaps plumbing. There is low-key ominous background music.

Herald: Announce us.

A blonde human (blue eyes, dark eyebrows, clean-shaven, young-ish) in a blue tunic and green breeches walks forward. "The Magister's invitation was for [Mistress] [Herald] alone. The rest will wait here."

1. Then I'll stay here 2. They're negotiators 3. They go where I go - "Where I go, they go"

- 3 - the man looks at the Herald, who hints a shrug and doesn't move an inch. Then he nods his head, bows lightly after that. The party of 3 follows him, a third Venatori falls in behind them from next to the door and the two with the masks following after.

The herald walks over a green carpet and ascends a set of flat steps towards a throne under a dais leading to a balcony that is flanked by two elephant statues. Fiona is standing on foot of the stairs to the right, Alexius is on the throne, and Felix is standing to his right on the left side of the arc to his father's right hand. The blonde civilian keeps himself to the far right of the carpet. The Venatori guards distribute themselves among the pillars to the side of the room.

Servant: My Lord Magister, the agents of the Inquisition have arrived. Alexius, whose right foot is resting over his left knee, gets up, the chair creaks. Alexius: My friend! It's so good to see you again! <He walks forwards until he stands on top of the first flight of stairs> And your... associates, of course. I'm sure we can work out some arrangement that is equitable to all parties.

Fiona steps forward: Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate? Alexius: Fiona, you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you would not trust me... with their lives.

1) Perhaps we should include her: If the Grand Enchanter wants to be a part of these talks, then I welcome her as a guest of the Inquisition. Fiona: Thank you! <she sounds a little surprised> 2) Because you simply ooze trust 3) Let's get to business

Alexius turns around and faces his throne, takes a few seconds to demonstratively seat himself again. Felix looks towards him and seems uncomfortable Alexius: The Inquisition needs mages to close the Breach and _I_ have them, so. What shall you offer in exchange?

1. We have connections: The Inquisition has many backers among the Orlesian nobility. I'm sure we can find suitable compensation. Alexius: I'm not sure what the 'Orlesian nobility' have to offer that I don't already possess. 3. Tell me about the Venatori 4. Nothing 5. I know you want me dead 6. Let's talk about time magic.

Felix: She knows everything, father. Alexius: Felix, what have you done? (in a tone as if he had told him the police might come calling)

1) He's concerned about you: Your son is concerned that you're involved in something terrible. Alexius: So speaks the thief. Do you think you can turn my son against me? (he sounds a bit paranoid) You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark, a gift you don't even understand, and think you're in control? (the pitch of his voice is different, he seemed pretty reasonable in the Redcliffe tavern, but went full super villain while no one was looking)

2) Your trap has already failed 3) Why are you really here?

The Herald takes a step towards the throne, Alexius takes a step towards the herald, background music is still ominous, Felix keeps looking at his father but has changed from uncomfortable to unhappy

Alexius: You're nothing but a mistake.

1) Who killed the Divine? 3) What was supposed to happen? 6) What is the mark? - If you know so much, enlighten me. Tell me what this mark on my hand is for. Alexius: It belongs to your betters. You wouldn't even begin to understand its purpose.

Felix steps forward. Felix: Father, listen to yourself! Do you know what you sound like? Alexius half turns to look at Felix while Dorian appears from next to a pillar from the side. Dorian: He sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliché everyone expects us to be. Alexius: Dorian (he does not sound surprised, more tired or annoyed) I gave you a chance to be a part of this. You turned me down. The Elder One has power you would not believe. He will raise the Imperium from its own ashes.

1) Who is the Elder One? - That's who you serve? The one who killed the Divine? Is he a mage? Alexius: Soon, he will become a god. He will make the world bow to mages once more, we will rule from boric oceans to the frozen seas. 3) You're a fanatic 6) What kind of power?

Fiona: You can't involve my people in this! Dorian: Alexius, this is exactly what you and I talked about never wanting to happen! Why would you support this? Alexius stands in front of his throne and looks down Felix: Stop it, father! Give up the Venatori! Let the southern mages fight the Breach and let's go home. Alexius: No. It's the only way, Felix. (He reaches out for his son's arms, upping intensity rather than volume) He can save you. Felix: Save me! Alexius turns away from Felix and towards the throne Alexius: There _is_ a way. The Elder One promised, if I undo the mistake of the temple... Felix: I'm going to die. You need to accept that. Alexius gestures with his left. Alexius: Seize them, Venatori. The Elder One demands this [woman/man]'s life.

Stabbing noises, behind every column a Venatori is being assassinated by an Inquisition scout, 5 in total. Alexius backs off a little, looking agitated. Herald: Your men are dead, Alexius. The music changes to something rather more dramatic Alexius: You... are a mistake. You would never have lived. He raises his right palm and conjures up a green cube on a chain. Dorian counters with something green and formless that looks almost like a rift. Dorian: No! He throws his pell at Alexius, whose hand turns into green crystal. Alexius is thrown off-balance and his spell goes off premature. It's a greenish ripple effect that spreads out, then the scene fades to black.

#dragon age inquisition #dragon age transcripts #in hushed whispers #ihw #dorian pavus

[sartle-blog]

12 Must-Read Novels for Art History Lovers

Maybe you’ve been experiencing “The Agony and the Ecstasy” of trying to figure out what to read next! If so, we’ve got you covered. Go beyond “Girl with a Pearl Earring” and “The Goldfinch” with these incredible novels about art and art history.

Disclaimer:  Some of the links below are amazon affiliate links, meaning that at no additional cost to you, by clicking through and making a purchase of a book you like, you will also be contributing to the growth of Sartle.

1. "The Girl in Hyacinth Blue" by Susan Vreeland

If you loved “Girl with a Pearl Earring,” you’ll fall in love with this book, too. Starting with a troubled math teacher who is quite certain the work he hides in a cabinet at home is a genuine Vermeer, the novel traces the owners of the painting back in time in a series of vignettes that function as a living, breathing provenance. An exploration of the meaningful roles art can play in the lives of those who cherish it, this book is as thoughtful and gentle as the light that falls from the windows in a Vermeer painting.

2. "The Relic Master" by Christopher Buckley

A crime caper steeped in art and history, the story follows one Dismas, the official relic master to Frederick, Elector of Saxony, and Albrecht, the soon-to-be Cardinal of Mainz, in the year 1517, when Luther has shattered faith in the Church and relics themselves begin to be called into question. He and his friend, none other than the preening Albrecht Dürer, get swept up in a scheme to make a copy of the Shroud of Chambery. The novel, like what one imagines 16th century Germany to be like, is earthy, humorous, and occasionally quite brutal. But it’s witty and shameless (“To Hell with Purgatory!”) and a perfect Renaissance romp about the intersections of art, piety, and politics.

3. "The Parable of the Blind" by Gert Hoffmann

A strange and haunting tale that looks at the painting of the same name by Pieter Bruegel the Elder, the novel is told from the perspective of the blind “sitters” for the painting on the day that Bruegel painted them. As they journey across a landscape of unseen people and obstacles, they wonder where they are going, why they are being painted, and why anyone would want to look upon them permanently when people turn their heads away in real life. Riddled with black humor, the novel is a picture of suffering and existential woe à la “Waiting for Godot,” and will linger in your mind long after you read it.

4. "The Muse" by Jessie Burton

Don’t be deceived when the cover calls this book a “Simmering romance” because it’s far more than that; it’s a meditation on artistic integrity and ownership wrapped up in a story of relationships that reads like a thriller. The novel follows two storylines that intertwine masterfully. In one, a Caribbean émigré trying to make her way in 1960s London dreams of becoming a writer but gets a job at a prestigious art institute working for the mysterious Marjorie Quirk. In the other, an English girl living in rural Spain in the 1930s yearns to become an artist and falls under the spell of the countryside and painter-turned-revolutionary Isaac Robles. It’s a vivid tale of love and loss, ego and creativity, that is a marvelous follow-up to her first novel, “The Miniaturist” (which you should also definitely read if you haven’t already!).

5. "Modern Art" by Evelyn Toynton

Inspired by the lives of Lee Krasner and her husband Jackson Pollock, this novel follows Belle Prokoff, an aging artist from the New York School, who has outlived her much more famous husband and spent her last few decades guarding his albeit troubled legacy. As she faces her own mortality and hires a grad student (who is also in love with an artist) as a live-in helper, Prokoff is forced to confront ghosts from her past when a nosy biographer comes sniffing around for dirt on her husband. Adroit and piercing, the novel asks what do you do with yourself after you have poured all of your being into someone else? And what does sacrificing yourself in that way do to you? Toynton tackles themes of suffering and artistic integrity with elegance and wisdom.

6. "The Moon and Sixpence" by W. Somerset Maugham

This classic novel follows a turn of the twentieth century English artist named Charles Strickland who abruptly abandons his family and life as a stockbroker to devote himself entirely to painting. Completely impoverished but in desperate pursuit of beauty, he studies in France and eventually ends up in Tahiti, where his artistic genius flourishes even as he suffers from leprosy. If this sounds reminiscent of the life of Paul Gauguin to you, you would not be mistaken--Somerset Maugham was inspired by the very same, only his version of the artist is by turns both more and less brutal than the real man. The Moon and Sixpence is a prime example of a kunstlerroman, a novel about an artist’s growth, painting the artist-hero as a necessarily anti-social being whose creative side can only flower in isolation and rebellion against social norms. While it’s not a perfectly accurate image of Gauguin’s life, and while the narrator espouses some outdated views about women and people of color, the book raises questions about genius and legacy that are still relevant today.

7. "Sunflowers" by Sheramy Bundrick

If you liked “Loving Vincent” or are just fascinated by the work of Vincent Van Gogh, then this novel is for you. Told from the perspective of the prostitute named Rachel unto whom Vincent famously bestowed part of his mutilated ear, the novel gives life to Vincent’s happy but troubled years in Arles. Many of the people he lovingly painted are presented in the flesh, from his friends like Joseph Roulin to the perfectly nasty Gauguin, whom readers will find reason to hate even more than in the “The Moon and Sixpence.” At its heart the book is a love story, but it’s punctuated by moments of both joyous artistic creation and those of the darkest depths of mental illness.  His romantic self, a side of Vincent we don’t normally see, is explored with great sympathy. Written by an art historian, the novel is convincing and well-researched, and even includes a list of all the paintings referenced in the back.

8. "A Month in the Country" by J. L. Carr

In this slim, poetic volume, a young Englishman recovering from a broken marriage and shell shock after the Great War finds himself spending a summer in a Yorkshire village, where he has been hired to uncover a medieval mural in a church. By night he sleeps in the church’s belfry, and by day he befriends the locals, bonds with another veteran whose been hired to uncover a medieval grave, and falls in love with the Vicar’s wife, all while working steadily at uncovering a medieval judgment scene. Tiny revelations--in the begrimed mural at which he’s chipping away, in his own wounded heart, and in the hearts of those around him--make up the soul of this placid yet powerful book that is a hymn to the healing power of art.

9. "I Always Loved You" by Robin Oliveira

With such a title this book might easily be dismissed as a typical romance, but it is actually a rarer thing: a story about love between two people that may never have been returned by either party. Namely, it chronicles the fraught and querulous relationship between Mary Cassatt and Edgar Degas. Set in a glittering and rain-washed Belle Époque Paris, the novel follows Mary Cassatt as she struggles to establish herself in the art world until Degas takes her under his wing. Her successes and sorrows over the years unfold alongside the drama of Degas’ vision loss and the grief-stricken love affair between fellow impressionists Berthe Morisot and her brother-in-law, Edouard Manet. Aside from being a vivid look at the politics of the Impressionist circle within the Parisian art world, it is also an eloquent tale about the struggle of artistic creation in the face of constant doubt, harsh criticism, and heartache. You can learn more about the puzzling relationship between Cassatt and Degas here.

10. "Portrait of an Unknown Woman" by Vanora Bennett

This novel follows Meg Giggs, the twenty-three-year-old ward of Sir Thomas More, at the eve of the Reformation in England. The More family, which will soon be torn by political, religious, and courtly strife, is visited by Hans Holbein the Younger, who paints their portraits multiple times with an uncanny ability to capture the hidden truths of their hearts. While More’s humanistic ideals become warped by anti-heresy fanaticism even as Henry VIII grows disenchanted with the faith More fiercely protects, Meg finds herself increasingly drawn to the German artist who embodies a more earthy, compassionate form of Humanism. While Bennett occasionally plays fast and loose with history (like the identity of the sitter in Holbein’s portrait of the titular name, for one), overall the book is richly drawn and well-researched. Even better, her descriptions of Holbein’s painting process for such enigmatic works as The Ambassadors is highly compelling. The dangerous times in which he lived, as well as a taste for symbolism in the Tudor world, meant Holbein had to couch the truths he perceived in iconography both subtle and complex, and Bennett illustrates this well.

11. "The Secret Book of Frida Kahlo" by F. G. Haghenbeck

This colorful and spirited novel was inspired by a mysterious notebook found in Frida Kahlo’s house in Mexico City that was full of handwritten recipes the artist had collected over the years. A complex woman, Frida was quite the cook, and this novel explores the prominent place food had in her life, with recipes at the end of each chapter. Throughout the course of Frida’s tumultuous time on Earth, her marriages to Diego Rivera and her affairs with lovers from Georgia O’Keeffe to Leon Trotsky, she is haunted by a vision of death, whom she calls her Godmother, and whom she meets the day she almost dies in a trolley accident as a teenager. In Haghenbeck’s capable hands, Frida’s veneration of the Day of the Dead, her existential feminist fire, and the emotional intensity of her paintings come alive with surreal imagery and the imagined taste of Frida’s fabulous food on the tongue.

12. "I Am Venus: A Novel" by Barbara Mujica

Told from the perspective of the unknown model who posed for what is arguably Velázquez’s most beautiful work, The Rokeby Venus, this novel follows Diego Velázquez’s rise to prominence in the Spanish court. Court life under Philip IV is depicted as a splendid bubble of contradictions: lavish and luxurious yet plagued by bankruptcy, lascivious and self-indulgent, yet clinging to a sober sense morality. Of course, one of the things that tantalizes most in this book is the mysterious production of the Venus painting, painted when feminine nudity on canvas was a punishable offense. However, Mujica also takes special care to chronicle Velázquez’s efforts to elevate art as a gentlemanly endeavor in a country where painters were regarded as mere tradesmen. (Seriously, before him, being an artist in Spain was the WORST.) Furthermore, she gives a voice to the women who surrounded him in his family and social circle, painting a broad picture of Spain itself through their experiences and hardships. This novel is evocative and compelling, and a perfect read for lovers of the Baroque artist.

As Vincent van Gogh once said, "It is with the reading of books the same as with looking at pictures; one must, without doubt, without hesitations, with assurance, admire what is beautiful."  May you discover beauty and joy in all of your reading adventures!

By: Jeannette Baisch Sturman

#art books #must read #book list #reading list #art history #art historian #bibliophile #books books books #listicle #history of art #Susan Vreeland #Gert Hoffmann #Jessie Burton #Evelyn Toynton #W. Somerset Maugham #Sheramy Bundrick #J. L. Carr #Robin Oliveira #Vanora Bennett #F. G. Haghenbeck #Barbara Mujica #fun stuff

[anjelica-grey]

Fictober Day 6: “I heard enough; this ends now.”

From the Fictober 2018 Prompt List.

Fandom: Dragon Age

Rating: T (Minor innuendo, minor referenced violence)

 In which unlikely youngsters go on an adventure.

“So, d’ye reckon Dara’s done for, then?”

The words of a soldier, trying to sound nonchalant and failing, caught the attention of a young man walking past the royal apothecary’s stillroom, and he stopped to listen.

“How would I know? I thought you were the one having it off with ‘er, as often as you’re in here for potions.” The apothecary’s gruff annoyance carried through the quiet hall.

“Sssh! Maker’s blood, Adan, are ye trying to get me called up before the guard captain?”

The other man’s non-committal snort must’ve appeased the solder, because he continued. “They sent ‘er off to West Hill, nigh on two weeks ago, and she ain’t been ‘eard from since. Went out to scout fer giants on account of some farmholder turning up with wild tales, the guard lieutenant sez, but I figgered ‘e was just winding me up.”

The young man in the hallway brushed a wayward lock of blond hair out of his eyes and edged closer to the door, trying to see without being seen. Adan’s face registered surprise. “Giants, you say? Higher-ups ordered a few of my more potent explosives a week or so ago, asked if they were strong enough to take down something big ... but I thought they meant those huge grizzlies in the Hinterlands, not a bleedin’ giant!” He shook his head. “I’ve not heard the whole story, but if she hasn’t sent word...”

“Lieutenant sez the captain offered to send more men, but the King said ‘e’d set Arl Wulff on it. Said they wasn’t in much of a hurry, neither.” The solder continued muttering, but the young man in the hallway had already left with haste, an anticipatory gleam in his eye.

Giants!

The Guard Captain was just finishing up his daily report to King Maric when the energetic blond lad reached the council chambers. “Any news on Scout Lieutenant Dara, your majesty?” the captain asked. “Some members of her unit have expressed worry.”

“I’m sure there’s nothing to fear, Captain,” Maric replied. “I sent her out more to satisfy that poor mad landsman than out of any real concern. ‘A hundred giants in West Hill’ indeed. The fellow probably saw the shadow of his own cattle.”

“No doubt, your majesty. It’s ... it’s only that it’s been almost two weeks with no word, and—“

“I’ve heard enough; this ends now!” exclaimed the young man, stepping forward with such excitement it veritably crackled around him. “Father, if there’s any chance of giants menacing our subjects, we must act! I shall go myself to assess the danger and eliminate any threat.”

“Hello, Cailan,” Maric said mildly, sharing an amused glance with the Guard Captain. “How good of you to join the morning briefing. And only half a bell late this time!”

“My apologies; I was busy with other matters. But about West Hill—“

The king eyed his son fondly. “it’s already handled, pup. I doubt there’s any real cause for concern, but Arl Wulff will send men out to the farmstead when he’s able.”

The determination in the lad’s blue eyes only increased. “But Father, imagine the damage to the countryside if a monster like that roams free. I am well-trained in arms, and could assist with—“

“It’s handled, Cailan,” the king interrupted, this time with an edge in his tone. “You are indeed skilled, and nearly an adult besides, but it would be absurd to send the Prince of Ferelden out on every hysterical farmer’s wild goose chase.” He breathed a sigh. “I know you yearn for adventures like those in the tales, but trust me, son, you needn’t search for battle. The dogs of war will find you, whether you wish it or no, and I only pray it takes as long as possible for them to pick up your scent.”

A muscle ticked in Cailan’s jaw, freshly shorn of its morning stubble, but he made no further objections. “Yes, sire. I understand.” He held his peace then, until the meeting ended and he bid courteous farewell to his elders.

“That was rather too easy, don’t you think?” asked the captain, when Cailan’s footfalls faded.

“Most certainly,” said Maric. “But at least this way if he hares off after adventure, we’ll know where to start looking.”

That evening, a familiar voice drifted through the door of Cailan’s rooms. “I thought being a prince meant you didn’t have to pack your own bags,” said Anora. He drank her in with his eyes; as always, her beauty was immaculate. Peeking out into the sitting room behind her and finding no one, he pulled her inside and kissed her soundly, attention she reciprocated with interest.

They’d been betrothed since they were children, but as ridiculous as it sounded, he’d almost been nervous of her for a time. She was three years his senior (years which seemed vast in one’s teens), but beyond that, she carried herself with such flawless grace that he felt himself quite an oaf in her presence. That was, until she’d confessed how she envied his spirit. No one else, she complained, ever let her have any fun. From that day on they’d been inseparable, steadily stretching the bounds of propriety.

“Mmm,” she smiled against his lips. “Not that I mind, but a kiss does not answer my question. Are you planning a clandestine journey, my love?”

Cailan drew her over to a small sofa and explained the matter of the giants in West Hill. “So,” he finished, “I mean to have a look. Can you imagine the courtiers’ reactions if I rode back into Denerim victorious, a wagon carrying the head of a legendary giant following behind?”

Anora eyed him speculatively and he sighed, waiting for her to talk him out of it. Finally she spoke. “I have only one question.”

“Oh? And what might that be, my lovely future queen?”

She grinned, eyes alight with all the rebellion she usually kept hidden. “When do we leave?”

Based on a story in World of Thedas, Vol. 2, about Cailan and Anora sneaking off to fight a giant. :)

For a collection of all my Fictober 2018 one-shots, check out Windows in Autumn on AO3.

#fictober18 #dragon age fanfiction #agreywrites #ag-fictober18 #cailan theirin #anora mac tir #cailan x anora #adan

[nikanndros]

The Post-Canon Time Travel AU

[Prologue] [Act I: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5] [Act II: Part 1]

Act II, Part 2.

When he’s finished talking to Nikandros, Damen orders him to be brought food, water and candles regularly. Nik himself warned Damen against seeming too sympathetic to the man who killed his brother, and refused Damen’s offer of a book or something to sleep on.

He assumes he’ll need to send a few groups of men to search various places where Jokaste could be. Last time, Laurent had found her on the border of Aegina and Patras. She had looked happy, Laurent had told him, with tanned skin and a three-year old at her ankles. They’d decided not to make contact in the end. 

It turns out that he doesn’t need to look though, because apparently it is known that Jokaste has gone to the Summer Palace for some solitude. Damen sends men there, and then has to collect himself. He’s not sure he trusts a world where Jokaste is allowed to go off to his mother’s palace whenever she chooses.

-

It’s surprisingly easy to slip into this world as if he belongs there. He goes to his meetings for the day and, while some people look surprised by a few of his decisions, no-one comments on him doing anything different from the norm, so Damen takes from that what he can.

That being said, talking to his fellow countrymen holds a lot less stress when he’s not also trying to make sure he doesn’t offend or upset Vere.

Dinner is non eventful, although Damen does notice that everyone takes great care not to mention Kastor or Nikandros. By the time he’s retired to his chambers for the evening, Damen is fairly sure that he’ll be able to handle things here, despite his memory complications.

Then there’s a knock at the door, and a small, dark haired woman pops her head in.

“Apologies, exalted,” she says, avoiding his gaze. He’s met her before, he thinks. One of Jokaste’s ladies?

“What is it?”

“I’m just here to see if you want to say goodnight to the children before I put them to bed?”

Damen is silent for so long that the girl actually looks up in concern.

“Ah,” Damen says. “The children. Yes, I- Why don’t you lead the way?”

She leads him to the royal nursery and Damen regrets not having a glass of wine before this. Or griva. Just something strong, because she opens the doors to reveal-

Three children.

The one that looks the oldest - although Damen can’t even begin to guess her age, less than five maybe? Old enough to walk, at least - looks up at his entrance and grins.

“Baba!” she exclaims, running over to him and raising her arms.

Damen is pretty sure he isn’t breathing properly. “Hello,” he says, awkwardly. He picks her up because that seems to be what she’s gesturing for.

The Lady - Kyrina! Damen remembers suddenly - smiles. “Ione’s been insisting that she can’t go to bed until you kiss her goodnight.”

“Of course,” Damen says. He looks at the little girl in his arms. She’s smiling at him very widely, a mess of dark curls in front of her eyes. “Uh, goodnight,” he says.

“Baba,” she says again. “You have to give me kisses!”

“Yes,” Damen replies. He kisses the top of her head. She giggles. Damen hands the child to Kyrina, who does a good job catching her.

“...I’ll just put her to bed then,” she says, slowly. Kyrina puts the little girl, Ione, into a small bed, covered with dark blue sheets. “Cassi and Leo are already asleep, obviously.”

Beside Ione’s bed is another bed, where another girl - presumably Cassi - is sleeping. All Damen can see of her is a bundle of golden ringlets poking out of a sheet. And in the corner of the room sleeps a little boy, and he is so tiny that he must be almost new. It’s a sweet picture - a roomful of sleeping Akielon children. It’s not something Damen has properly thought about having, but he thinks he could get used to it.

Kyrina hesitates. “Pardon me, Exalted. While you’re here: Lady Jokaste left many instructions for me to look after the children, but I wondered if you knew when she would be back? The children miss her.”

“They… miss Jokaste?”

“She is their mother.”

“Ah,” Damen says, faintly. “I have to go.”

-

“Nikandros,” Damen says, entering the cells. The torch in his hand sends the shadows in flickering directions that somehow manage to made the jail look worse than when it was pitch black moments earlier.

“Damen,” Nik says, from where he’s lying across the floor. He looks tired. “What can I do for you?”

Distracted by the grim surroundings, Damen says, “Are you sure you don’t want candles and a book?”

“You cannot be seen giving your brother’s killer favour,” Nik says patiently, sitting up.

“I am the only one visiting you. Who will know?”

“The slave you have bring them to me, and anyone who sees them do it.”

Damen remembers the fear and helplessness he had felt, his first time in Arles when Laurent has threatened to lock him away, alone and chained, for who knows how long. “I’ll bring it myself.”

Nikandros sighs, but he doesn’t refuse, so Damen knows he has won. “Surely you didn’t just come down here to check on me.”

“I should have brought wine,” Damen says, and then he sits down at the bars, so he face Nik and pretend this is a normal conversation. “I’ve discovered I have children.”

“Oh,” Nik looks shocked. “Forgive me, I didn’t even consider that they might not… Are the children different, in the other world?”

“Different in that they do not exist,” Damen replies.

“You have no heirs?”

“Not yet,” Damen says. “We were working on that, but there was a lot to consider.”

“Hmm,” Nik pauses thoughtfully for a moment. “Well, you have three children. Iona, Cassiopeia, and Leo. The girls are three and two; Leo was born almost four months ago.”

“Are they all with,” Damen winces, “Jokaste?”

“Yes.”

He really doesn’t want to ask this next question. “Is Jokaste my wife?”

Nik laughs. “You’ve gone pale.”

“I am not ready for all this,” Damen admits. “I don’t even know what I’m meant to do with children.”

Nikandros looks amused. “I think you said exactly that to me, when we found out Jokaste was having Iona.”

“At least I am consistent in something.”

“You’re not married to her,” Nik says. “But it is expected. Or it was, until you two fought and you sent her away to the Summer Palace.”

“Why did we fight?”

“She kept trying to make you see sense about Kastor. You told her that you had no intention of marrying someone who wasn’t loyal to your family. You thought she was lying because she didn’t like all the things Kastor tried to advise you on.”

Damen sighs. He can’t believe he ever thought this wouldn’t be entirely complicated. “Okay,” he says. He needs to think. “Priorities. I need to focus on you getting out of here, first.” Nik insists there has to be a trial - people can’t just get away with murdering members of the royal family - but if the trial goes wrong, Damen is prepared to handle the consequences of overruling it. “Then I’ll deal with Jokaste.” And after that - finally, when things are in order - then Damen is going to go to Vere, and find his husband.

At least he can take comfort in the fact that with Auguste alive - things are probably going much better for Laurent then they are for Damen.

#captive prince #writing #the time travel au #woops i missed an update yesterday #bc my job makes me Tired™ #also thanks to my main babe @arsaces for teaching me that one greek word :')

[bloojayoolie]

Being Alone, Andrew Bogut, and Children: bora bora Bora bora (24619) sibling Hazel (24650) meet again Bora Bora@ 3 Yrs., 55 lbs Waiting in Brooklyn Trembles, shakes, curls up in a ball in his kennel. A gentle, sweet soul, in desperate need of a hero. Loves his sister Hazel. TO BE KILLED – 4/12/2018 “Almost lost you," he thought, surprised to find himself blinking back tears. "Been through too much, me and you. We're going to finish this thing together.” BORA BORA gazes across the empty space of the Brooklyn NYC ACC play yard at HAZEL. She gazes back. It is their first time seeing each other after fearing they had lost each other forever. Only moments before, he and she were pancaked to the ground, shaking, trembling, facing a corner, wishing the world away in their separate enclosures. They were picked up by police, both were only 2 blocks from the ACC when found, but they were not found together. It was only when they saw each other in play yard that the ACC staff watched the miracle of that first greeting, the recognition, the joy. Only 4 days after arriving, though, they are facing their deaths. Both will die, but not together, they will die alone. Will anyone save their lives? These babies are NOT AGGRESSIVE. They are scared, they are shy, they have been through the ordeal of abandonment and have no idea what they are doing in this big scary place that is not their former, and familiar, home. At MLD we are advocating very hard for this sweet pair, and we really need you to do the same. Crosspost, tag, pledge for Bora Bora and Hazel. They are gorgeous dogs inside and out, and in the hands of an experienced foster or adopter, in a calm and structured adult only home where they can decompress from their horrible ordeal, they will in no time be Velcro pups to the people who open their heart and home to them. These are amazing dogs. Are you the amazing person who deserves them? PRIVATE MESSAGE our page or email us at [email protected] to foster or adopt one or both (our dream, like their dream, is that they remain together). BORA BORA and HAZEL (also AT RISK) – their story: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PspaeFJM2C4 BORA BORA, ID # 24619, @ 3 Years Old, 55 lbs. Brooklyn acc, Large Mixed Breed, Brown Brindle, Unaltered Male Came to the Shelter as: STRAY Shelter Assessment Rating: New Hope Rescue Only Behavior Condition: AT RISK NOTE: Bora Bora was placed at risk due to behavior concerns; Bora Bora has not acclimated well to the kennel environment and has not allowed any handling since intake. We recommend placement with a New Hope partner who can provide any necessary behavior modification (force-free, positive reinforcement-based) and re-evaluate behavior in a stable home environment before placement into a permanent home. Bora Bora is Healthy. INTAKE NOTES – DATE OF INTAKE, 4/7/2018: Officers stated Bora Bora was running around outside but when they leashed him, Bora Bora refused to move. He allowed only to be leashed during intake. BASIC INFORMATION: Bora Bora is a large brown brindle mixed breed. He came to the center as a stray. His history and previous behaviors are unknown. MLD NOTE: BORA BORA was found within 2 blocks of the shelter, as was HAZEL, ID 24650 (also At Risk today). It is entirely possible they are siblings, given their behavior around each other. SHELTER ASSESSMENT – DATE OF ASSESSMENT, 4/10/2018: ASSESSMENT SUMMARY: Bora Bora is difficult to remove from the kennel, he appears to be uncomfortable or afraid of the slip lead. He has allowed any handling from his caretakers. Out of concern for his stress levels and his response to restraint, we feel Bora Bora is not a great candidate for a handling assessment at this time. PLAYGROUP NOTES – DOG TO DOG SUMMARIES: Bora Bora came in as stray so his behavior around other dogs is unknown. Bora Bora was extremely shut down when interacting with a novel dog. When introduced to a familiar female dog (HAZEL, ID 24650), Bora Bora became confident and roamed the pens with her. As he continued to participate in Playgroup, he was able to interact with unfamiliar female dogs. The Behavior Department recommends that Bora Bora be placed with the familiar female dog (HAZEL, 24650), and slowly introduced to novel dogs at his own pace. PLAYGROUP SUMMARY 1, 4/8: Bora Bora is extremely fearful. While attempting to bring him outside to playgroup he balked and pancaked. We did do an on-leash greet with a novel female dog. He exchanged a few sniffs but still did not attempt to stand up and follow her. PLAYGROUP SUMMARY 2, 4/9: Bora Bora initially was tucked into a ball, in the corner of the yard until a familiar female dog (HAZEL) approached him. He stood up, exchanged greets and then spent the entire session exploring the yard with her. PLAYGROUP SUMMARY 3, 4/10: Today, Bora Bora was more comfortable and engage in a toy item with the familiar female dog. PLAYGROUP SUMMARY 4, 4/11: Bora Bora greeted a novel female dog with nervous but soft posture. He followed her around the pens, sniffing her. ENERGY LEVEL:: Bora Bora displays a very low activity level in the care center. BEHAVIOR DETERMINATION:: NEW HOPE ONLY Behavior Asilomar: TM - Treatable-Manageable Recommendations:: No children (under 13),Place with a New Hope partner Recommendations comments:: New hope partner: Bora Bora has not acclimated well to the kennel environment and has not allowed any handling since intake. We recommend placement with a New Hope partner who can provide any necessary behavior modification (force-free, positive reinforcement-based) and re-evaluate behavior in a stable home environment before placement into a permanent home. Potential challenges: : Fearful Potential challenges comments:: Fearful: Bora Bora has shown high levels of fear in the care center in each interaction, though he manages his stress well and has not escalated to warning signs. He needs a very slow approach and the ability to warm up to new people and new environments at his own pace. Bora Bora should be permitted to initiate interactions and solicit attention when he feels comfortable, rather than being forced to interact. MEDICAL NOTES: 7/04/2018: DVM Intake Exam, Estimated age:3y. Microchip noted on Intake? None. History : found by police officers wandering street. Subjective: crouched in cage, shaking. Observed Behavior - very nervous, crouched in cage and during exam, very stiff, unable to walk. Fearful. Evidence of Cruelty seen – none. Evidence of Trauma seen – none. Objective: T = , P = 80, R = 20, BCS 3/9, EENT: right eye has a cherry eye, mild mucoid discharge OD; OS clear, ears clean, no nasal or ocular discharge noted. Oral Exam: limited exam; muzzled- clean incisors. PLN: No enlargements noted. H/L: NSR, NMA, CRT < 2, Lungs clear, eupnic. ABD: Non painful, no masses palpated. U/G: intact male, smooth and symmetrical. MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat. CNS: Mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities. Rectal: clean on assessment. Assessment; cherry eye OD, underweight. Prognosis: good. Plan: start neo-poly-dex ointment BID; given in exam. add a third feeding. schedule surgery. recommendation for adopter to follow up with cherry eye surgery. SURGERY: Okay for surgery. 9/04/2018: S: Copious amounts of soft liquid diarrhea reported by volunteer and seen on rounds. Eating well, has been getting 3 feedings a day. Objective: EENT: no ocular or nasal discharge, Oral Exam: mild tartar and gingivitis. H/L: no murmurs or arrhythmias, crt 1.5 sec, pink moist. strong synchronous femoral pulses. Abd: soft abdominal palpation. MSI:ambulatory x 4. Mentation: BAR. A: diarrhea- parasites v. stress v. IBD v. EPI v. other. PLAN: Metronidazole- 500mg PO BID x 5 days. fecal exam- schduled for tomorrow. recheck at end of metronidazole to assess diarrhea, if no improvement recommend bloodwork/ultrasound for further diarrhea work up. 10/04/2018: Progress exam. History : stray intake 4/7-started on neopolydex for cherry eye OD and TID feedings. 4/9: started on metronidazole for diarrhea. Subjective: BAR. No cvs but is still having diarrhea. Very nervous and is trying to escape from cage. Objective: EENT: Eyes clear with cherry eye OD, no nasal or ocular discharge noted. H/L: Normal RR/RE. MSI: ambulatory x4. CNS: Mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities. Assessment: Diarrhea-whipworms and roundworms. Cherry eye OD. Underweight. Prognosis: excellent. Plan: CTM while at BACC. Cancel neopolydex due to behavior. Rec cherry eye repair with placement. Continue TID feedings. Continue metronidazole 15mg/kg PO BID until 4/14. Fecal-3+ whipworms. Start panacur 50mg/kg PO SID x3d until 4/12. *** TO FOSTER OR ADOPT *** BORA BORA IS RESCUE ONLY! You must PRIVATE MESSAGE our page or email us at [email protected] for assistance with fostering or adopting him. He cannot be reserved on the ACC ARL online list, nor can he be direct adopted at the shelter. If you would like to adopt a dog on our “To Be Killed” list, and you CAN get to the shelter in person to complete the adoption process **within 48 hours of reserve**, you can reserve the dog online until noon on the day they are scheduled to die. We have provided the Brooklyn, Staten Island and Manhattan information below. Adoption hours at these facilities is Noon – 8:00 p.m. (6:30 on weekends) HOW TO RESERVE A “TO BE KILLED” DOG ONLINE (only for those who can get to the shelter IN PERSON to complete the adoption process, and only for the dogs on the list NOT marked New Hope Rescue Only). Follow our Step by Step directions below! **PLEASE NOTE – YOU MUST USE A PC OR TABLET – PHONE RESERVES WILL NOT WORK! *** STEP 1: CLICK ON THIS RESERVE LINK: https://newhope.shelterbuddy.com/Animal/List Step 2: Go to the red menu button on the top right corner, click register and fill in your info. Step 3: Go to your email and verify account Step 4: Go back to the website, click the menu button and view available dogs. It should read, "reserve in progress". That is YOUR reserve. Step 5: Scroll to the animal you are interested and click reserve STEP 6 ( MOST IMPORTANT STEP ): GO TO THE MENU AGAIN AND VIEW YOUR CART. THE ANIMAL SHOULD NOW BE IN YOUR CART! Step 7: Fill in your credit card info and complete transaction Animal Care Centers of NYC (ACC) nycacc.org HOW TO FOSTER OR ADOPT IF YOU **CANNOT** GET TO THE SHELTER IN PERSON, OR IF THE DOG IS NEW HOPE RESCUE ONLY! You must live within 3 – 4 hours of NY, NJ, PA, CT, RI, DE, MD, MA, NH, VT, ME or Norther VA. Please PRIVATE MESSAGE our page for assistance. You will need to fill out applications with a New Hope Rescue Partner to foster or adopt a dog on the To Be Killed list, including those labelled Rescue Only. Hurry please, time is short, and the Rescues need time to process the applications. Shelter contact information Phone number [phone] Email [email protected] Shelter Addresses: Brooklyn Shelter: 2336 Linden Boulevard Brooklyn, NY 11208 Manhattan Shelter: 326 East 110 St. New York, NY 10029 Staten Island Shelter: 3139 Veterans Road West Staten Island, NY 10309

#funny #lol #humor #memes #meme #memehumor #dank memes #funny pics #rolf #lmao #Being Alone #Andrew B

[shannaraisles]

A Rose By Any Name - Chapter 2

In which the princess of Antiva arrives in Denerim, and learns exactly why she’s there. Banner created by the fabulous @kagetsukai!

[Read on AO3] or [From the beginning]

Chapter 2

"If you would just step this way, your highness ..."

Princess Felicita Amelia Braulia Salome of Antiva ignored the seneschal trying to usher her out of the courtyard, taking a moment to lower her hood and look around the gray walls of the royal palace of Denerim.

It was not what she had been told to expect; indeed, it far surpassed her father's dubious descriptions. He had painted Ferelden as a miserable, cold sort of place, where there was little joy to be found and less color. As the eighth daughter of his line - and four more still to be found a place for, if they didn’t kill each other vying for the succession - he could not afford to be picky, and the plutocracy of the merchants had agreed that placing an Antivan princess on the throne of Ferelden might do very nicely, for all its shortcomings. They, too, had warned her that the southern country was a drab place, lacking in the refinements she was accustomed to; some had even gone so far as to suggest Ferelden was lacking in basic good manners.

Yet this description did not mesh with the country as she had seen it thus far. Amaranthine had certainly been a sallow sort of place, but justifiably so - they were still rebuilding after the catastrophic darkspawn attack after the end of the Blight. Even so, the people there had been smiling about their work, eager to take a look at the nobles who disembarked. Word had reached them well in advance that these ladies of Antiva, Nevarra, and the Free Marches were prospective queens, and the welcome they had given was warm, indeed. As for a land that lacked color, well ... Felicita had seen green fields beneath snow, blue skies, bright clothing. She had seen dried flowers in red and white and deep purple, familiar and unfamiliar to her Antivan eyes, and in some places, fresh growing by the side of the road, even here at the waning end of winter. Far from misery, she had witnessed cheerful good nature at the inns and noble homes opened for herself and her party to stay at on their journey from the port city. These people were fiercely proud of their land and heritage, possessed of a deep love for their king, whose history as both a bastard and a hero were points they elucidated on with equal pleasure. Indeed, as soon they identified that she was from Antiva, not Orlais, the people she had met had gone out of their way to sell their King Alistair's finer points to her.

Admittedly, she had not known until her ship had docked at Amaranthine that this was to be a competition of sorts. It had been a surprise to note that her traveling companions to Denerim were Ladies Callista Damaris of Nevarra, Ceridwyn Ardvale of Kirkwall, Leona Charing of Starkhaven, and Amandine Orrick of Tantervale, all of whom had also been invited by Arl Eamon Guerrin to attend upon King Alistair of Ferelden for a full month in the hope of being asked to become his queen. Felicita could foresee all sorts of problems in the days ahead, especially given the gossip that had been filtering through to them. They five were not the only ladies invited to Denerim for this bride-finding event, it seemed; they were simply the five who necessity dictated should arrive at the same port at the same time. There were, apparently, five others to contend with, also.

Of the ladies she traveled with, however, Felicita saw only two as potential problems - Callista was of the numerous Pentaghast clan, but her lack of that name made her all the more ambitious to snag a crown of her own if she possibly could; and Amandine was a picture perfect proposition for the king ahead of them, hiding her own ambitions behind sweet manners and an easy wit. Ceridwyn clearly already had her cap set toward the Teryn of Highever, who had met them in the port city to escort the group to Denerim, and despite himself, he was clearly flattered to be the beneficiary of the vivacious redhead's attentions. As for Leona, well ... that girl would be happier in a Chantry, anyone could see that. She said and did all the right things, but her fervor for Andraste's teachings were a little too much for anyone who wasn't expecting the zeal to erupt from such a pretty face. Felicita herself was not entirely sure she wanted to be a part of this rather demeaning display of women squabbling over an eligible man, however high his rank, but her father had spoken well of King Alistair. She was prepared to wait, and use her own judgment as to how closely she would fight this battle.

But here she was, in this gray country that was looking forward to the first flush of spring, and despite everything she had been told, she found she rather liked it. It was wholly different to Antiva City, but no lesser for that difference. Her soft amberite eyes scanned the thick glass windows above her, hesitating for a moment on the sight of someone male looking down at her.

"Your highness?"

Blinking out of her contemplation of that indecipherable face high above, Felicita turned her attention back to the seneschal, finally accepting his invitation to enter the palace as she laid her hand over his own.

"Thank you, my lord."

She smiled warmly as he escorted her into a drafty vestibule hung with heraldic tapestries depicting the dual mabari of both Ferelden itself and the royal house, crimson against gold. The floor was gray stone but clean, a sturdy reed mat laid out for visitors to scrape the mud from their boots before advancing further into the castle itself. The seneschal lead her into the next room, a wide antechamber dominated by a large double door, and two flights of steps leading upward on either side of it. The space was bustling with servants and nobles, deep in preparation for the feast that evening; a feast that was as much to welcome the arrival of the various ladies as it was to mark Wintersend. Again, the walls were hung with bright tapestries, this time an array of heraldic devices, most notably those of Highever and the Couslands, and of Amaranthine and Denerim and, perhaps surprisingly, the Grey Wardens. Though the gray stone of the walls lent a chill to the air, the effect was warmed by the thick rugs that covered the floor and the steps leading upward. Felicita felt no hesitation in removing her gloves as the seneschal left her side, her eyes turning to the rotund gentleman in bright purple hose and deep green doublet who approached her.

"Ah, Don Carmello?" she asked, recognising him from her father's description. White beard, black eyebrows, deceptively friendly smile. That was definitely him.

The Antivan ambassador bowed low, his gaze sparkling cheerfully as he let forth his greeting in the familiar rolling syllables of the language they both shared, kissing her hand more as though she were a favored grandchild than a princess of his country.

"In Common, if you please, ambassador," Felicita interrupted him gently. "We should not be so rude as to conceal our thoughts from the ears of those who are here to watch over us. We are guests, not enemies."

The ambassador frowned, glancing at the bustle of humans and elves all around them. "Ah, your highness," he said in a wary tone, careful to choose his words now he was under orders to speak in a language everyone here understood. "Your father, the king, was most concerned that you should have some means to communicate without fear of being overheard."

"And why is that?" Felicita asked in an innocent tone. "I have no secrets. My father's inability to tell me that my invitation was to take part in a competition, however, would suggest that he has a few secrets of his own."

"Nonetheless, princesa, my orders ..."

Felicita turned to face him fully, uncaring that others could hear plainly. "Ambassador, if you insist upon speaking in Antivan, you must become accustomed to hearing me state in Common every word you say," she informed him. "We are guests in this land, not spies, and not enemies. I will not be so rude to my hosts, nor will I allow you to do the same."

Carmello stuttered for a moment, but Felicita was used to the Antivan way. Women were theoretically to be seen and not heard, pieces of mobile beauty to be pampered and sweetened and considered uneducated. The reality was that many Antivan women were highly educated, and often doing the work of their entire household. But still the pretty ideal persisted, especially in those men who had been away from home for a while. She held his gaze steadily, sweetening her expression with a small smile. And he gave in, sighing and muttering in Antivan about spoiled princesses.

Felicita laughed politely as he gestured for her to accompany him up the left-hand flight of stairs. "Ambassador, I still understand Antivan," she reminded him in amusement. "I did not suddenly become Ferelden by virtue of extending a simple courtesy to these people."

"Ah, forgive me, your highness." Carmello cleared his throat, apparently changing his preferred approach. He'd been away from Antiva too long. "You are to be quartered among the other ladies. This palace is laid out unusually - there is an entire floor dedicated to the comfort of guests, above the royal quarters."

"I see." She nodded as they walked. "What can you tell me of this arrangement, ambassador? I know only what little my father told me, and scant detail from the other ladies I found myself traveling with."

"Your highness, this is an unusual occasion," Carmello explained as they mounted the stairs, steering the way to the next flight upward that would take them to the guest quarters. "The nobility of Ferelden have lost patience with their King. As a Grey Warden, there is a risk that he will never produce a child at all, yet the longer he waits to wed, the greater that risk becomes. The Landsmeet - the gathering of banns and arls - have set his wedding date already. King Alistair will wed on Summerday."

"If they have set his date, why have they not also chosen his bride?" Felicita asked, more curious than offended. It seemed reasonable enough to put this kind of pressure on a King who had already had ten years to secure his line and had done nothing to prevent civil war upon his death.

"King Alistair is a very popular man among the common people," the ambassador explained to her. "He is one of their heroes, one of the Grey Wardens who ended the Blight; a man who bears the stigma of illegitimacy, and yet became their king. He has a bad habit of looking them in the eye when he speaks to them, as well. If it were to become known that he was being forced into a marriage, the people would rise to prevent it, most are certain. As it is, he has agreed to this arrangement - that he will choose, by the first day of Drakonis, which lady of birth he will wed."

"And if he does not choose?" the princess asked, glancing at the man beside her sharply.

Carmello winced. "The Landsmeet will choose for him," he sighed. It was a good arrangement, but he'd met the king on more than one occasion. It wasn't a fair arrangement for that man. "With a civil war only ten years in the past, the issue of succession is a hotly debated point."

"I see." Felicita nodded thoughtfully as they came to a halt. "Then Mama's cryptic comments about seeing me soon were not her attempt to cheer me into embarking upon the journey with a light heart."

The ambassador had the decency to look discomforted. "Alas, no, your highness," he admitted. "The invitations for the wedding have already been sent. The, ah, the name of the bride will, of course, be announced on the first day of Drakonis."

Felicita felt her usually warm expression settle into something that was decidedly put out. This was not the situation she had been allowed to believe she was walking into. A bride-finding competition, where the groom was not entirely willing, and the wedding date already set ... this was a small nightmare in the making.

"This ... contest," she said carefully. "Would I be right in thinking it is not the king's idea?"

"Sí, princesa," he agreed, seemingly more comfortable to admit to this than to the rest of it. "Arl Eamon Guerrin is the king's chief advisor. He has been pressing for a marriage for quite some years now, and it is known that he favors Orlais."

Felicita snorted, hastily turning the unladylike sound into a delicate cough. "Even I know, Don Carmello, that Ferelden will never stomach an Orlesian queen," she pointed out, surprised and a little pleased to note the smile that blossomed suddenly on the face of the elven servant stepping past them as she spoke. "Come, show me where I am to be quartered, and tell me about this ridiculous situation in greater detail."

"Of course, your highness."

The ambassador lead her from the staircase through an imposing door, into a wide corridor from which other doors lead. The rug runner on the floor was a deep shade of crimson, bordered in gold thread that glittered in the light of the torches illuminating the dark space. Some kind of incense was burning to fragrance the passageway, no doubt as a fop to those of the ladies who objected to the smell of honest sweat and the vague hint of musky mabari that clung to everything in this city. Felicita could hear voices behind some of those doors, yet there was a louder collection of feminine voices where the passageway opened far ahead. She glanced curiously at the ambassador.

"A common area, your highness," he explained, drawing to a halt beside a door that had been hung with the Antivan royal crest, no doubt to make it easier for her to find her resting place while she was here. "I believe it was thought that the princesses and ladies of rank would like a place where they might engage in traditionally feminine pastimes in relative privacy, and to build social ties with one another."

Felicita raised her brow, biting down on her smile as she passed through the door beside him. "A man made that decision, yes?" she asked, raising her hands to undo the clasp of her cloak.

Carmello chuckled lightly, knowing exactly what she was thinking. "Indeed. Arl Eamon does not appear to understand people so very much."

With the door closed behind him, Felicita finally laughed at the prospect of being expected to make nice with nine other women for an entire month, while all of them were vying for the matrimonial advantage of being Queen of Ferelden. It was utterly ridiculous. This arl was a fool if he thought there would be no unpleasantness simply because they were all women of rank. Noblewomen could be vicious when cornered. It would actually be easier to handle if they could draw knives and fight it out like men, but sadly the noble ranks didn't like to encourage their ladies to learn useful skills. Well, most countries' noble ranks did not. She could name at least two other women in this little contest who could likely draw a blade with confidence.

Still, perhaps the arl had thought that the noble ladies invited would prefer not to go to bed at ridiculous hours if they were not at the king's beck and call. The room Carmello had brought her to was spacious, certainly, but it was definitely a bedchamber. A wide hearth dominated one wall, the fire crackling in the grate more than welcome in the chill of the winter. The warm cast of firelight complimented the weaker spill of winter sunlight through the thick glass that filled the window between leads, illuminating the arm chairs that had been placed about the hearth. The bed, of course, dominated the room. Not a four-posted monstrosity, nor a dark-wooded maw; it was carved of pleasant oak, sturdy and simple, laid with soft linens and thick blankets, a bright quilt turned back to reveal the Theirin crest on the uppermost blanket. Felicita bit her lip as she fought to hide her smile, imagining the reaction of certain of her traveling companions at the thought of sleeping underneath the family crest of the man they hoped to marry. Scandalous.

"Oh ... please be seated, ambassador," she said belatedly, gesturing toward the armchairs by the fire as she removed her cloak, laying it over the folded quilt at the end of the bed. Her own chest had already been brought in, and judging by the sounds coming from beyond the door set the wall opposite the hearth, a maid was busily hanging her gowns and preparing to order a bath.

Carmello waited politely until she took a seat herself before easing himself down into one of the armchairs comfortably, letting out a low sigh of relief. "I, myself, am not quartered in the palace proper," he told her, "but should you need me at any hour, do not hesitate to send a message. My purpose here is to ease your way, your highness."

Settling her skirts comfortably, Felicita leaned back in her chair. "Tell me what I am to expect from these weeks ahead of me, ambassador," she answered, her momentary levity set aside in favor of thoughtful discussion. "How, exactly, the king is expected to woo ten women in the course of a single month."

Carmello sighed, shaking his head. He, too, thought it was an ambitious plan of the arl's, but it was clear that Arl Eamon believed he could sway his king toward a wife perhaps already chosen.

"In truth, your highness, I am uncertain quite how he is to make such a choice," he admitted. "The full detail of the month has not yet been decided. I believe the king has insisted upon being allowed to make his own decisions for some few days as to the entertainments and so on, but has yet to confirm those decisions."

That was encouraging, at least. It appeared that King Alistair was not the weak king some suspected he was, though Felicita had not truly believed him weak to begin with. He had killed an archdemon before taking the crown; he had resisted marriage for a full decade, and drawn his people slowly out of the depression left over them by the Blight. Even the eruption of the mage-templar conflict within his borders had not overwhelmed him. She tapped her fingertip against her lower lip as Carmello went on.

"There is, of course, the Wintersend feast this evening," the ambassador told her. "I am told there will be dancing, though it will undoubtedly depend upon the arl's whim. There are days set aside throughout the month for the king to spend with each lady - the names were drawn by lot, to prevent rank or partiality on the part of the arl from weighting the dice, so to speak."

"That does make sense," the princess mused, glancing up as an elven servant-girl slipped from the chamber briefly, took one look at them sat together, and abruptly skipped straight back into what she assumed was the dressing chamber. She smiled faintly, making a mental note to reassure the girl that she had not been intruding. "In that case, I should imagine I will have at least a week, if not longer, to observe the king and come to my own conclusions?"

"Certainly, your highness," Carmello assured her warmly. "The day set aside for your accompanying the king is the thirteenth. Of course, before then, you will have ample opportunity to at least form your own opinion of him. A theater troupe has been invited to perform at the palace; there is an evening planned to celebrate the different cultures of the ladies attending the ..." He groped for the right word.

"Meat market," Felicita provided in a wry tone. She was definitely not impressed with the fact that she had been sent to partake in a competition for the hand of a man who apparently didn't want to get married in the first place.

"I would not say that, princesa," Carmello said, attempting to placate her.

"Ambassador, these ladies are here seeking a crown," she pointed out to him in a weary tone. "Were it only the crown as the prize, perhaps I would choose to engage in such sport. But the crown is worn by a man who has shown no interest in marrying for ten years, and does so now only because his noble ranks will rebel against him otherwise. This is a troubled land, and I feel sure it has a troubled king. What they want is a queen; what he needs is a wife. And I will not engage in deceptions simply to be named queen. I will do my duty, I will play my role, but I will not actively seek to become Queen of Ferelden unless I see more in the man than his troubles and his crown."

Don Carmello stared at her for a long moment, his mouth working silently as he made a valiant effort to draw this display of spirit together with the picture King Fulgeno had painted of an obedient daughter who showed no inclination to fight for her right to rule and would be better suited to a life away from the political machinations of Antiva.

"Then, your highness, I will hope that the man behind the crown earns your interest and your respect," he said finally. "King Alistair is a good man. A little impulsive, perhaps; certainly not as well bred as many of his court, but his manners do not suffer for that. He is a little overwhelmed by his duties, I would venture to say, yet he expresses himself well, and his people are very fond of him. Still, the life of a lone monarch is an isolated one. If I may be so bold ... he would be lucky to have you as his wife. And Ferelden would be blessed to have you for their queen."

Felicita smiled her public smile, her fingertip pressing into her lower lip as she eyed the ambassador. "I think you are attempting to both humor and encourage me, Don Carmello," she accused in a gentle tone, "but I thank you for it. It promises to be a long month."

"And soon to begin," Carmello agreed, rising to his feet to bow to her. "I will leave you to your preparations, your highness. Please, allow me to welcome you to Ferelden once again."

"Thank you, ambassador. I will see you this evening."

"Princesa."

The ambassador bowed once again, letting himself out through the door. Felicita sighed at the sound of a particularly strident voice in the corridor outside, broad Orlesian tones expressing displeasure at a volume that was quickly shut out as the door drew closed in his wake. A full month living in close proximity with nine other women, all of whom were eager for a crown. She was going to have to check her belongings daily.

"Just like home," she mused, rolling her eyes as she rose to her feet, moving to look out through the window at the gray winter sky. There was the possibility, of course, that no one here was going to be actively trying to kill her, but even so ... Hands folded at her waist, she turned her head toward the dressing chamber. "You may come out now."

A pinched face came into view, worry dominant in the slanted eyes that looked over at her as the elven servant bobbed several curtsies in the doorway between the bedchamber and dressing room.

"Begging your pardon, my lad- ... your highness, I mean," she apologized. "I meant no offense."

Felicita smiled at the girl. "And you gave none," she assured her. "Are you to be my assistant while I am here?"

The elf nodded, a half smile of her own flickering proudly on her face. "Aye, mil- ma'am. Marta said to make sure you know that if you don't want an elf, she can send someone else in my place."

"Nonsense," the princess said easily. After all, though elves were still second-class citizens in Antiva, they seemed to hold higher respect simply for existing there than they did in other lands. Her smile gentled as she spoke again. "What is your name?"

"Andra, your highness." Another curtsy, this time with her hands thrust firmly at her back. Clearly Marta - who must be in charge of the ladies-maids - was formidable enough to have drilled them ruthlessly.

"Well then, Andra, it is a pleasure to meet you." Felicita felt almost embarrassed by the grateful smile on the girl's face as she bobbed yet another curtsy. What was life like for elves here if a simple polite greeting could be taken with such warmth? "It has been a very long journey. Would it be possible to take a bath before I must dress to impress the king and his guests, do you suppose?"

Andra nodded quickly. "Oh, yes, mi- your highness," she said, stumbling over the high rank of the lady she had been assigned to. "I'll order the water in, and fetch everything you'll need. Will you be wanting to wash your hair?"

"Do you think we can dry it in time?" Felicita heard herself ask, trying not to show her amusement at the eagerness the girl showed her.

"Oh, certainly, your highness," Andra insisted, evidently confident of her skills, even if this Marta was not. "We'll use hot combs and warm towels. You'll be dry in no time, I promise you."

"Then I should very much like to wash my hair," Felicita told her, unable to keep the relief from her voice. A chance to wash all the filth of travel from every part of herself was the best means she could think of for preparing herself for what was coming.

"Very good, your highness."

As Andra curtsied yet again and slipped from the room to organize a bath for the princess of Antiva, Felicita turned back to the window with another low sigh, wincing at the shriek from the chamber opposite her own as the inhabitant made some discovery not to her liking. Yes, the month ahead promised to be long, indeed. She felt a pang of sympathy for King Alistair, being set up as little more than a crown and a prize for the most suitable lady invited to this rather humiliating display. Still, she was here, and for her father's sake she would behave as a princess should. For her own sake, however, she would bide her time and come to her own decision. Andraste's blood, there must be something in this king, this man, that would welcome a companion for his years. Perhaps she would find an appropriate wife for him among these other ladies; coach her into a position of success.

Perhaps this month of being on display would not be so bad, after all.

#a rose by any name #denerim palace #slow romance #eventual alistair/ofc #princess fabs #don carmello #andra #finding out what she's been let in for #chapter 2 #and still just the set up for the story

[naiatabris]

Cullen Appreciation Week: Day 2

It’s Commander Cullen day over at @cullenappreciationweek! I am shamelessly reposting something from the very first fic I ever posed: “The Tale of the Champion.” The main character, Cecily Trevelyan, is an avid Varric Tethras fan, and each chapter opens with an imagined epigraph from Varric’s Tale. 

But Varric’s story does not necessarily paint the Knight-Commander in his most flattering light.

We took Keran back to the Gallows and made a full report to the Knight-Captain about what we’d found. That probably should have been the end of it, but then someone made a comment about the depravity of mages in general.

Most apostates would have noticed that they were surrounded by Templars and kept their mouths shut.  Not Hawke. "Perhaps your mages would be less hostile if they hadn’t been locked in a prison simply for existing.”

“How can you say that, after what you’ve seen? Mages cannot be treated like people,” the Knight-Captain said angrily. “They are not like you and I.”

Hawke crossed her arms. “Mages aren’t people?" She gave him a bland smile. "How astonishing. To the untrained eye they look so similar. But I suppose you’d know better than I.”

I don’t think the Knight-Captain realized how close he’d just come to being incinerated.

“I’ve had another letter from home,” Cecily said, approaching Cullen at the war table after an unusually short meeting of the council.

Cullen had been reviewing the latest numbers on the coin and supplies for his troops, but he set down his ledger when Cecily stepped to his side. “Do your parents seem more at ease with the Inquisition?” The Trevelyans' first message from Ostwick had contained several veiled questions about whether Cecily was being held against her will. Fortunately, more letters and a promise that she'd visit when she could seemed to have soothed their nerves.

“They do. They might be too much at ease, in fact,” Cecily replied. “My parents are trying to find suitors for my sister Evie. They have their eye on a Ferelden Arl's son. I think they’re hoping Josephine might drop a few favorable words in the Arl's ear.”

“I’m certain she could.” Cullen frowned. “Although I’m not sure the Inquisition ought to be in the matchmaking business.”

Cecily laughed. “I have to agree. Besides, Evie also sent me a letter, and she calls the young man in question an ‘utter tit.’ She enclosed a sketch of him. I think my parents may regret the drawing lessons they forced upon her.” She pulled the letter out of her pocket; a lock of hair fell across her cheek as she bent her head to unfold it, and she stepped closer to show him the picture.

Cullen tried not to think about how appealing she smelled, or what her skin might feel like if he tucked that bit of hair back behind her ear. He had noticed those sorts of thoughts crossing his mind a few weeks ago; at first he thought they would pass, but they’d only become harder to ignore.

Fortunately, Evie’s sketch was an effective distraction. He snorted with laughter. “Maker. Is he picking his nose?”

“I believe he is.” Cecily folded the paper back into her pocket. “Any word from your family?”

“I haven’t written to them in several weeks,” he admitted. Several months, more like. “They are used to long silences from me, though. After I transferred from the Ferelden Circle, I’m afraid my letters became shamefully irregular.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked you where you served,” Cecily said. “Most of the Ostwick Templars were from the Free Marches, but we had a few Fereldens, even some Orlesians. Where did they send you?”

“I served in the Ferelden Circle during the Blight.” Cullen prayed she wouldn’t ask about that. “Then I was promoted to Knight-Captain and transferred to Kirkwall. I spent several years there, until Cassandra recruited me a few months ago.”

Silence fell in the room.

Cecily’s demeanor visibly changed. Her brow knitted, her shoulders stiffened, and she looked at him as if she’d never seen him before. “You were a Kirkwall Templar? The Knight-Captain of their Circle?”

Cullen’s stomach sank at her expression. Of course she would feel that way about Kirkwall Templars. He felt as if he should apologize, but wasn’t sure where to start. “I was. I am not proud of what happened there. Red lyrium drove Knight-Commander Meredith mad, and I should have seen it sooner. There was a lot I should have seen sooner.”

She didn’t look very reassured by that. “Did you know Varric? Or the Champion?”

“I only knew Varric as the Champion’s friend. As for the Champion—yes. We met several times. I fear I did not make the best impression.” An understatement, I’m sure.

Cecily appeared to be thinking about whether to ask something. Finally, she spoke, her voice thin and unsteady. “The Knight-Captain in Varric’s book, the one who said mages weren’t people, that there were arguments for expanding the Rite of Tranquility. Was that you?”

Cullen’s veins turned to ice. For a moment he wanted to lie, to say Varric had made it up for dramatic impact, but … “Yes. It was.”

She opened and closed her mouth for a moment, looking at him with a mixture of astonishment, horror, and hurt. Finally, she said, “Why?” Her voice heated a bit. “Maker’s breath, Cullen. How could you think that?”

Shame coursed through Cullen. He wanted to be angry at Varric for putting that in the Tale, but he knew the blame was his. He’d come to Kirkwall so angry, so paranoid about blood magic, that he’d been willing to accept almost any measure to curtail the mages’ freedom. He’d worked side-by-side with Meredith—even with Alrik.

But after the Qunari rebellion, and with more distance from what happened in Ferelden, his views had slowly begun to shift. Perhaps it had been watching the Circle mages risk their lives to fight the Qunari, to get Hawke into the Keep. Perhaps it was seeing Hawke go toe to toe against the Arishok in defense of her city and nearly lose her life for it. Perhaps it was Meredith’s increasing madness. But finally, he’d remembered what the Order was supposed to do—and seen how far they’d come from that ideal.

Much too little. Far too late.

He forced himself not to look away from her; he deserved the reproach in her expression. “Because I was angry, and ignorant, and arrogant, and a thousand other things I regret.”

He paused, trying to find the right words. There were none. “I am ashamed of what I said. Nothing I say now would excuse it.”

Cecily looked at him for a long moment, then nodded a bit. “Thank you for being honest. I’ll let you get back to work.”

As she walked away, Cullen called out, “I’m sorry.”

Her head turned back. “For what?” she asked, not stepping closer.

For so much. “For what I said, and thought,” he began. “For not stopping Meredith. For not doing more in Kirkwall to protect the people there—especially the mages. I failed. But I will not fail the Inquisition, I swear it.”

Cecily’s face was serious, but not unfriendly. “I believe you, Commander,” she said quietly as she walked away.

#cullen appreciation week #cullen x trevelyan #kirkwall #regrets

[actual-lich-queen]

Queen of Cups Chapter 2: “Where there’s tea there’s hope.” -- Sir Arthur Pinero 

News of the Ferelden Circle’s rebellion has finally reached Denerim and the Adalen family makes a choice for the good of the alienage. The writer’s pickiness about tea preparation is also reveled.

Chapter 1 Here

A week passed. Mary was slowly fitting back into life in the alienage. Ayla enjoyed having a sister again. She was sure that eventually the newness would wear off and they’d have to work through the knotty bits of being family. But that was it though, family. It had always been worth the work.

Ayla thought about how Mary wove the lavender stems with ribbon to make the sachets as she stood on the corner selling them. Mary’s fingers had been clumsy and the first few had been unusable, but Mary had a single-mindedness that drove her to practice weaving until the sachets she produced had been sellable. Ayla was still much faster, but Mary would catch up in time. They had that now, time.

Their mother had been teaching Mary simple stitches too. In fact, both were at home right now making a go at the clothes from the orphanage. Rosha had volunteered to patch what they could, Mary needed practice and the kids could use shirts with a few less holes. Mary and mamae still didn’t quite fit together. They were both trying, and as long as they did, time would change that too. The future seemed full of things to look forward to for Ayla.

Her head was swirling with hope all day, and it must have brought her luck. Everyone seemed to want to buy a sachet from the dreamy-eyed flower girl today. Ayla’s evening trek back to the alienage was with an empty basket and a full purse.

She was in a good mood when she opened the door to the hovel to find Hahren Shianni sitting with Mary and Rosha at their table.

“Lethallan.” Rosha stood. Ayla could tell from the look on her face that whatever Shianni was there for, it wasn’t good news.

“Ayla,” Shianni turned towards the door, “How have you been? I spoke with Sammen earlier today. He said the street performance racket was going well.”

“I have been well, thank you hahren.” Ayla set down her basket and joined the group at the table, “What brings you here?”

“News of the rebellion reached the palace.” Mary answered, her face pale.

“King Alistair supports the mages.” Shianni said in a voice that indicated it wasn’t the first time, “And you will be safe here, but the templars have also rebelled from the Chantry and are hunting down mages. Unsanctioned.”

“So what does that mean for Mary?” Ayla asked, reaching under the table to take her sister’s hands.

“It means we’ll all watch out for her.” Shianni stated like an immutable fact. Rosha and Ayla exchanged glances. The alienage was a tight knit community that looked out for each other, but they both knew there was always someone looking to make a coin, despite Shianni’s sometimes militant optimism.

“And the palace is okay with this?” Ayla was nervous, “It’s one thing to support the mages, it’s another to go against the templars. In Denerim. In the alienage.”

“I’ll make them support it.” Shianni responded, “King Alistair has been mostly reasonable and Queen Cousland can hammer any dissenting nobles into shape.”

“I could just go.” Mary’s voice was small and quiet, “That would be less trouble for everyone.”

“We should seek one of the clans.” Rosha said, “Not all of them expel extra mages. I would have done it 28 years ago had I known then. I’m sure we could find one to take us.”

“What about Ayla?” Mary asked.

“I’ll go too.” Ayla smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way, “We’re family.”

“You don’t have to go.” Shianni tried to reiterate, “We can protect you here.”

“If we go to the Dalish, it’s only me who’ll be put out. Not the entire alienage.” Ayla countered.

“Everyone has been so good to me and my family since I came here.” Rosha added, “I can’t ask them to fight the templars for us, everyone has already lost so much. It is too much to ask.”

“But you don’t need to ask, Rosha.” Shianni was getting irritated, “That’s what separates us from the shems and flat-ears.”

Anger flashed in Rosha’s eyes and Ayla looked at Mary nervously. She was aware that they both qualified as ‘shems’ and ‘flat-ears’ respectively. Hahren Shianni could be too idealistic to see reality at times, it had been a strength and a fault.

“I appreciate it, Shianni, I really do.” Rosha clipped, “But it is too much. We will seek the Dalish. Thank you for the warning. Are you staying for dinner?”

“Ah...no.” Shianni stood, “Thank you. Soris is probably waiting for me to eat. I should go.”

“It was good to see you, Hahren.” Ayla stood to show Shianni out, “I’m sorry it wasn’t under better circumstances.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t convince you to stay.” Shianni replied, standing in the door, “But I understand how your predicament is more...perilous than most. I should have thought of that before I let my mouth run.”

“It’s alright.” Ayla lowered her voice so only Shianni could hear, “I’m actually glad you separate me and my sister from the shems and flat-ears.”

“I used to help change your diapers.” Shianni gave Ayla a hug, “How could I see you as anything but family?”

“Thank you.” Ayla hugged her back.

“Safe journeys wherever the road takes you.” She smiled, “And remember you’ll have a home here as long as I’m around.”

“And to you.” Ayla stepped back, “The mage rebellion won’t make things easy here.”

“Don’t I know it.” Shianni laughed, “But surviving is what we’re good at. If Orlais, Maric, Cailin, Loghain, the purge, the plague, the slavers, the blight, and the Battle of Denerim couldn’t take us down. The rebellion doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Not against you, hahren.” Ayla smiled, waving as Shianni disappeared down the street. She closed the door and turned to her family.

“Mother, do you even know how to find the Dalish?” Mary asked.

“They’re not as secretive as they were before the blight.” Rosha had already gotten up from the table and was packing, “At least the more friendly clans. I heard that some of them have even been making contact with the alienages. If we head south towards Denerim it shouldn’t be too hard to find them.”

“Would they really accept me?” Mary folded laundry, restarting the same handkerchief several times before it was square.

“It’ll be safer than staying here. The clans are used to dealing with templars.” Rosha answered.

“And Ayla?” Mary asked for the second time. Rosha’s busy hands stilled and she looked over, unsure, at her youngest.

“They’ll accept me or they won’t.” Ayla shrugged and moved to help with the packing, “I could always settle nearby so you can visit. Find a nice farm-boy. Have too many children.”

“Ayla-” Rosha started.

“Mamae.” Ayla said gently, “One problem at a time. First we make sure Mary’s safe. Then we’ll see what comes next.”

“Ma serannas, da’lan.” Rosha sighed, “My mind is running in circles.”

“I’m sorry, this is my fault. I should never have come home.” Mary croaked, she had begun crying.

“Oh no, no lethallan.” Rosha rose and moved to where Mary was sitting and embraced her, “It is not your fault.”

“If I hadn’t been a mage…” Mary sniffed through tears.

“You wouldn’t be you. Your magic is a gift.” Rosha whispered.

“It is a curse from th-the M-Maker.” Mary was bawling now, “I was m-made wr-wrong.”

“No,” Rosha cupped Mary’s cheeks in her hands and gazed with love in her eyes, “You are my daughter. My precious one. You are a gift from the creators.”

Mary was crying too hard to make any further arguments. Rosha held her daughter and rocked her gently, humming off-key lullabies. Ayla continued packing as quietly as she could, organizing the details of their flight in her mind, giving her sister and mamae as much privacy as could be afforded in the one-room home.

After sometime passed, Mary gave a loud, ugly sniffle and smiled at her mother. Rosha, in turn, smoothed Mary’s hair and kissed the last of her tears off her face.

“Mother!” Mary giggled, struggling to get away from the quasi-mortifying expression of maternal love.

“What?” Rosha gave an all-too-innocent look and redoubling her efforts, “I have a lot of embarrassing mamae moments to catch up on.”

“Oh! Me too!” Ayla wrapped Mary in her arms and started kissing her other cheek, “I’ve got a lot of annoying little sister time to make up for.”

“Ah! No! Stop!” Mary was laughing, “Don’t we have to finish packing? When did you want to leave, mother?”

“We should go as soon as possible. The longer we linger the more of a chance trouble has to catch up with us.” Rosha stood and straightened her dress.

“Do you have any other outstanding laundry, mamae?” Ayla asked, “And I’ll need to let Sammen know so he can cancel on Arl Bryland, or find another dancer. If we’re quick we can get to Alarith’s for supplies and be gone by morning.”

“Can I go with you to see Sammen?” Mary asked, roses in her cheeks.

“Of course.” Ayla said with a sly smirk.

“Don’t worry about the washing, I’ll hand off what I’ve got to widow Baern. She could always use the extra coin.” Rosha nodded, “I’ll go see her when I finish here, you two go see Sammen and get what supplies we need from Alarith’s.”

“Aye, Mamae.” Ayla took Mary’s hand, “Come on, if we’re quick I’ll have time to make Sammen’s da his last cup of good tea while you two make goo-goo eyes at each other.”

“I do not make ‘goo-goo eyes’.” Mary huffed as she followed her sister out of the house.

“Right, what would you call it then?” Ayla grinned, “Because you certainly don’t look at me or mamae that way.”

“Ugh.” Mary stuck her tongue out, “First of all, you’re my sister. Second of all, you don’t have Sammen’s cute dimples. Thirdly it is vultus domini caritate not ‘goo-goo eyes’.”

“Vole-thus do-mini cari-what?” Ayla’s face screwed up in confusion as they walked through the alienage streets towards Sammen’s house.

“Vultus domini caritate.” Mary repeated, “It’s Tevene. It means the feeling of first falling in love worn on your face.”

“You mean goo-goo eyes.” Ayla rolled her eyes.

“I. do. Not. make. Goo-goo eyes.” Mary emphasized, crossing her arms.

“Alright, alright. Fine.” Ayla conceded, “You make fancy Tevinter goo-goo eyes.”

“Vultus domini caritate.” Mary corrected.

“Vultus domini caritate.” Ayla repeated, correctly this time, “Oh look. We’re here. Now you can practice your vultus domini caritate.”

“I’m going to regret teaching you that, aren’t I?”

“Probably.” Ayla grinned as she knocked on the door.

“Hang on!” A muffled voice came from inside. There was a thump and the sound of footsteps. Moments later the door was thrown wide open to reveal Sammen.

“Mary!” Sammen cracked a grin from ear to ear.

“Hi, Sammen.” Mary giggled, vultus domini caritate all over her face.

“Hey, I’m here too.” Ayla joked, lightly punching Sammen on the arm before breezing past him into the house.

“Oh, hi Ayla.” Sammen said sheepishly.

“Good evening Mr. Alberts.” Ayla hugged an old elf wrapped in blankets sitting by the fire, “Would you like some tea?”

Mr. Alberts smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

“Has Sammen introduced you to my sister yet?” Ayla asked as she put water on to boil. Mr. Alberts nodded and waggled his eyebrows.

“That’s what I said.” Ayla laughed, “Are you two coming in or are you going to stand in the door all night?”

“Oh. Right!” Sammen was suddenly aware he hadn’t moved, “Would you like to come in, Mary?”

“Thank you, Sammen.” Mary gave a shy smile.

The fact that Mary’s hand found Sammen’s as they walked towards the fire and settled themselves in did not go unnoticed by Ayla.

“What brings you here at this hour?” Sammen asked.

“Bad news, I’m afraid.” Ayla retrieved Mr. Alberts’s teapot from the cupboard as well as the little clay pot where he kept his tea. The kettle on the fire was rumbling with the sounds of water pre-boil, “News of the circle rebellion’s made it this far. Hahren Shianni came by earlier this evening to let us know the templars have rebelled too and are hunting down mages.”

“Are you going to be alright, Mary?” Sammen placed a concerned arm around Mary’s waist.

“Mother is taking us to find the Dalish.” Mary gave Sammen a sad smile, “She says I’ll be safer there, and that the clans have experience evading the templars.”

“Are you...coming back?” Sammen ventured.

“I...I don’t know.” Mary flung herself at Sammen, wrapping him tight in her arms.

“They can’t fight forever.” Ayla offered gently. The kettle had gone silent, signalling the water was on the edge of boiling. She removed it from the fire and poured a measure of water into the teapot to warm it while she readied the tea leaves.

“Right!” Sammen said as bravely as he could, rubbing Mary’s shoulder, “You’ll come back once it’s all over. Funny stories about hunting in the woods and your face all decorated with one of them vallaslin thingies.”

Mary looked up at Sammen and made a face.

“It won’t be long, you’ll see.” He laughed.

“It’ll be an adventure.” Ayla added, pouring the warming water out of the teapot and inserting the tea leaves in their strainer before pouring the rest of the kettle over top, “A story to bore your children with someday.”

“Parts will certainly be like that.” Mary’s smile was brave and sad, “I guess I can look forward to that.”

“See? Dreaming of the stars.” Sammen smiled at her.

“We will probably see plenty of those.” Ayla gathered a mismatched collection of cups and poured the tea when it had reached the perfect golden color before getting the tinge of brown that would signify over-steeping, “There you are, Mr. Alberts, last cup of decent tea you’ll have until we get back.”

Mr. Alberts took the cup and smiled. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before taking the first sip. There was a moment, and then he sighed in satisfaction. It was a decent cup of tea.

“Okay, don’t leave me out.” Sammen reached for his own cup, grabbing one for Mary, “I have to drink what I make too.”

“Is it really that bad?” Mary accepted the cup handed her.

“Yes.” Sammen and Ayla said together. Mr. Alberts was nodding emphatically.

“There’s a reason I’ve never made any for you.” Enjoyment spreading across Sammen’s face as he drank his tea.

“I’m - I’m afraid to say that I’m curious now.” Mary raised a brow.

“I’d say it was something else to look forward to,” Sammen’s lips curled into a self-conscious smirk, “But you really, really shouldn’t look forward to it.”

“I’ll just settle for looking forward to seeing you again, then.” Mary placed a shy kiss on Sammen’s cheek. This had the immediate effect of turning Sammen a rather violent shade of scarlet.

“Awww, so cute!” Ayla teased, eyes sparkling. Mr. Alberts made kissing noises with his lips.

“Mary.” Sammen whined, “Not in front of them.”

“Sorry.” Mary kissed him again, “I just can’t help myself.”

Ayla and Mr. Alberts just sat in silence, their smiles saying everything their voices didn’t.

“Maker help me.” Sammen whimpered.

Topics eventually moved on from embarrassing young love as the friends emptied the teapot cup by cup and story by story. But there will never be enough tea for all the stories that can be told. Eventually the time came for Ayla and Mary to make their final goodbyes.

“Goodbye, Sammen.” Ayla hugged her best friend tight, tears clinging to the corners of her eyes. She breathed him in, trying to burn everything about this moment in her memory. It shouldn’t be goodbye forever, but somehow...it felt like it was going to be.

“You’ll be back.” He whispered, “Don’t make me come after you.”

“You would too, wouldn’t you.” She let go and smiled.

“Never doubt it.” Sammen smiled back, hugging her again.

Mary gave a delicate cough.

“I’ll just...give you two a moment.” Ayla let go of Sammen and started on the way to Alarith’s. 

She managed to make it to the store and was on the way home before Mary’s running footsteps caught up with her. Ayla looked at her sister’s face, red and puffy from crying. 

“Vultus domini caritate.“ Ayla whispered as she caught Mary’s arm with her own. Mary laughed despite herself.

When they reached home, the found Rosha had finished packing, everything was ready. Ayla looked around the small shack that had been home for her whole life. She could feel the pain, but it was a long way off still, there wasn’t enough time for it to be real yet. There would be a lot of crying in her future.

For now though, she sighed and took the pack Rosha handed her. There was only one moon in the sky tonight, it seemed to reflect the melancholy Ayla felt as the Adalens left the alienage for what felt like the last time.

Author’s Notes:

I didn’t find a resource for Tevene as detailed as Project Elvhen, so I’ve substituted Latin. The translation is literally “the look of love”. I’ve headcanon’d here that mages use Tevene a bit like Regency era England used French: incorrectly and to make themselves look smart.

Why Tevene? With mages having the most freedom there I headcanon that most of the good academic articles and original sources are in Tevene. Since tower mages apparently have nothing to do but study magic until they die (unless a blight pops up), they’ve probably read a lot of Tevene. Censored by the Chantry, of course.

The tea making instructions are specific to Oolong tea (or any yellow* tea for that matter).

Alberts is again a deliberate name choice here. The alienage origin in DA:O specifies that the the elves were sold as slaves from the alienage during the Orlesian occupation of Ferelden. Albert is a French Orlesian name, so at one point in the family history, the Alberts belonged to an Albert. And now you know something upsetting about American lastnames that end with an ‘s’.

*Yellow is the fermentation** step between green and black. I’m sure there’s a word for it in English, but I don’t know it. I learned to be picky about tea in Chinese it’s a literal translation.

**Fermentation is another incorrect literal translation.

Next Chapters: 3, 4, 5

#Dragon Age #Fanfic #Queen of Cups #Where There's Tea There's Hope #Chapter 2

[ramblinganthropologist]

31 Days of Fanfic: Day 2

Rarepair Pairing: Cherche Mahariel x Sten Setting: That Modern Dragon Age AU Summary: Long distance relationships are hard. Thankfully, modern technology helps to bridge the gap. Though Cherche and Sten are apart, his little notes are sometimes all she needs to get through the days until they’re together again. Word count: 1478 Dedicated to @reallyfuckinggay because of a super shitty day. You got this, my friend. <3

---

“I swear by Elgar'nan's balls if I correct their aim one more time, I'm using them for target practice.”

Every bone in Cherche's body ached as she slammed face first onto her bed. Somewhere behind her, Dog was whining and wagging his stumpy tail. He had followed her up from the practice yard, where no doubt four full grown men were still laying on the ground dazed and bruised.

“Why did I agree to help him out with training them?” She rolled onto her face. “Should've stayed in Par Vollen.”

It was warmer there, at least. However, she was a sucker for her son, especially when he sent her gif-filled messages pleading for her help. The Obi Wan Kenobi joke had sealed it for her, and now she regretted it with every step she took.

Damn her love for that brat.

“Dog, let's run away before they know we're gone.” Cherche reached down to pet the massive dog on his head and ran her hand along his soft fur. He barked his assent and started for the door, but she couldn't join him. Her legs weren't going to cooperate and instead begged her for sleep. “Ok... maybe after a nap.”

That required taking off her armor. Groaning, she pulled herself to her feet and started for the armor stand, stripping as she went. By the time she got there, most of it was on the floor and all she had to show for it was the annoyingly heaven warden breastplate. That got chucked on the stand; the rest she'd pick up later.

Before she could head back to bed, the pile of her clothes vibrated. Her back muscles protested, but she bent down to sort through them in order to find her pocket. Inside, her phone screen showed she had a new text message.

From: Kadan

How was your day?

A brief smile flitted across Cherche's face as she sat down on her bed, phone in hand. Her lock screen was the two of them together just after Denerim, dressed for the fight that was to come. Maybe it wasn't the most typical couple's photo, but it wasn't like they were exactly normal either.

“He should be asleep by now, it's after 3 there.”

Fine; go to bed, Sten. You're no good to anyone tired.

Putting her phone aside, she settled into her own bed to catch a few hours of sleep before someone else needed her to save the world. As long as the second coming of the Archdemon didn't arrive during her rest, she would be fine.

Of course, knowing her luck, it would happen.

---

“How about you fucking bite me, Eamon?”

Cherche wasn't known for holding her temper, except when she brandished it like a club to beat somebody over the head. The current Arl of Redcliffe was definitely cruising for a bruising that morning, and he hadn't even had breakfast.

Eamon always had this thing where his lip curled when he spoke with her. She didn't know why – maybe it was because she was an elf, Dalish, or the mother of his soon to be nephew in law. The possibilities were as endless as the ways to kill him, she just had to settle on one.

“I merely suggested - “

“No, you pretty much ordered me to do your dirty work.” She turned on her heel, fire brimming. “Get fucked, shem. You want to talk to Ali, put your name to it.”

It was just like him to try and maneuver from the shadows. This time it was over Alistair's relationship with her son; the time before, over who would stand at the king's side as adviser. Every time, he tried to grab more power for himself, or push things into a neat little package.

As long as she drew breath, it wasn't going to fucking happen.

Still fuming, Cherche stopped outside the front door of the Arl's estate. Her pocket had started to vibrate with news of a new message. Since she was technically on Warden work, that meant it could be important. At any rate, it was better than staring at his wrinkly old ass.

From: Kadan

The quickest way to a man's heart is between his ribs with a properly applied thrusting technique.

Miss you. <3

“He always was a charmer.” Cherche allowed a slight chuckle to grace her lips as she stared down at her screen. Sten did like his emojis, particularly the hearts. She couldn't wait to show him the cookie one she had found, but that would involve some work. Until then, he could be content with his hearts and smily faces.

You can get them just as well with an arrow, you know.

Miss you too, Skype tomorrow?

“Cherche, could we please speak for a moment?”

Teagan's voice drew her attention. He was heading to meet her,  probably to smooth things over and to prevent at least one homicide on the premisis. Her smile turned to a scowl as she returned her phone into her pocket and watched him arrive.

She might've liked him, but damn if he didn't get on her nerves some days.  Oh well, she had a Skype date to look forward to anyway.

---

“Is that a new bruise?”

“A recruit didn't know his ass from his elbow. I'm fine, vhenan.”

The connection was crap thanks to the distance between Par Vollen and Amaranthine, but it held up well enough. She couldn't see the sweat dripping down Sten's brow, but she could imagine it just the same.

“If you cannot help them, they are a lost cause.”

Cherche snorted as she leaned back against the headrest of her bed, laptop on her lap. “Well, I knew that taking the job, doesn't mean I can't have fun doing it.”

Sten's lips twitched briefly. That was as good as a smile coming from him. It wasn't that he didn't like to smile, just that it wasn't a cultural norm for him. She saw no reason to push him on it, especially since there were plenty of other ways to indulge her urges – usually with rope and a few good knots – with him.

“When will you be returning to Par Vollen, kadan?” He looked briefly behind him as someone asked him a question – something about if he would be returning to training. He answered summarily before returning. “It is dull without you.”

Cherche allowed another smile to pass her lips as she kept her laptop steady. “Par Vollen, boring? How did you survive all those years without me?”

“Without a perpetual stiffness in my neck, kadan.” There was a long pause, and for a moment she thought the webcam had froze. However, she could see Sten breathing, weighing out his options. “Among other places.”

The Arishok was right, she was corrupting him.

A quick bark of laughter rang out in the small room as Cherche snickered. “Can't help you with that while I'm here, Sten.”

“That much is obvious.” Maybe it was the light, but she could have sworn he looked a little red around the  tips of his ears. “You still haven't answered my question about your return.”

Always so pushy. Cherche rolled her eyes as she glanced down at the screen of her phone. Earlier that day, she and the other senior Wardens had finally decided on a date for the recruits to take their joining. A cartoonish griffin marked the day, with 'karaoke' penciled in the day after. By her estimation, at least one was going to make it and that was enough for a party in her book.

They just had to get through the twitching first. They were always so twitchy.

“Joining's next week, vhenan. Once the survivors settle in and we're pretty sure they're not going to desert, I can come back.”

“I will meet you at the dock when you arrive.” The voices in the background were growing – someone needed Sten now, probably to deal with some issue. He frowned briefly, before his neutral expression returned. “Time to go.”

Cherche smiled briefly as she pressed her hand to the screen. “Text you later, Sten.”

He nodded, and his hand lined up with hers ever so briefly. Then he was gone, and she was left with the Skype home screen. Sighing, she closed the lid of her laptop and put it aside. There was work to be done, after all. Joinings didn't prepare themselves.

Before she left the room, though, her pocket vibrated once more.

From: Kadan

<3

“Sappy nerd.” And yet she smiled as her fingers slid across the screen in response. It sent long before she returned to deal with the rest of the recruits, a virtual letter to her beloved far away in the sands of Par Vollen.

Nerd.

<3

#This is so out of character but shooooosh let me be happy #That Modern Dragon Age AU #Cherche x Sten #Cherche Mahariel

[twittermemesofficial]

Being Alone, Andrew Bogut, and Children: bora bora Bora bora (24619) sibling Hazel (24650) meet again Bora Bora@ 3 Yrs., 55 lbs Waiting in Brooklyn Trembles, shakes, curls up in a ball in his kennel. A gentle, sweet soul, in desperate need of a hero. Loves his sister Hazel. TO BE KILLED – 4/12/2018 “Almost lost you,” he thought, surprised to find himself blinking back tears. “Been through too much, me and you. We’re going to finish this thing together.” BORA BORA gazes across the empty space of the Brooklyn NYC ACC play yard at HAZEL. She gazes back. It is their first time seeing each other after fearing they had lost each other forever. Only moments before, he and she were pancaked to the ground, shaking, trembling, facing a corner, wishing the world away in their separate enclosures. They were picked up by police, both were only 2 blocks from the ACC when found, but they were not found together. It was only when they saw each other in play yard that the ACC staff watched the miracle of that first greeting, the recognition, the joy. Only 4 days after arriving, though, they are facing their deaths. Both will die, but not together, they will die alone. Will anyone save their lives? These babies are NOT AGGRESSIVE. They are scared, they are shy, they have been through the ordeal of abandonment and have no idea what they are doing in this big scary place that is not their former, and familiar, home. At MLD we are advocating very hard for this sweet pair, and we really need you to do the same. Crosspost, tag, pledge for Bora Bora and Hazel. They are gorgeous dogs inside and out, and in the hands of an experienced foster or adopter, in a calm and structured adult only home where they can decompress from their horrible ordeal, they will in no time be Velcro pups to the people who open their heart and home to them. These are amazing dogs. Are you the amazing person who deserves them? PRIVATE MESSAGE our page or email us at [email protected] to foster or adopt one or both (our dream, like their dream, is that they remain together). BORA BORA and HAZEL (also AT RISK) – their story: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PspaeFJM2C4 BORA BORA, ID # 24619, @ 3 Years Old, 55 lbs. Brooklyn acc, Large Mixed Breed, Brown Brindle, Unaltered Male Came to the Shelter as: STRAY Shelter Assessment Rating: New Hope Rescue Only Behavior Condition: AT RISK NOTE: Bora Bora was placed at risk due to behavior concerns; Bora Bora has not acclimated well to the kennel environment and has not allowed any handling since intake. We recommend placement with a New Hope partner who can provide any necessary behavior modification (force-free, positive reinforcement-based) and re-evaluate behavior in a stable home environment before placement into a permanent home. Bora Bora is Healthy. INTAKE NOTES – DATE OF INTAKE, 4/7/2018: Officers stated Bora Bora was running around outside but when they leashed him, Bora Bora refused to move. He allowed only to be leashed during intake. BASIC INFORMATION: Bora Bora is a large brown brindle mixed breed. He came to the center as a stray. His history and previous behaviors are unknown. MLD NOTE: BORA BORA was found within 2 blocks of the shelter, as was HAZEL, ID 24650 (also At Risk today). It is entirely possible they are siblings, given their behavior around each other. SHELTER ASSESSMENT – DATE OF ASSESSMENT, 4/10/2018: ASSESSMENT SUMMARY: Bora Bora is difficult to remove from the kennel, he appears to be uncomfortable or afraid of the slip lead. He has allowed any handling from his caretakers. Out of concern for his stress levels and his response to restraint, we feel Bora Bora is not a great candidate for a handling assessment at this time. PLAYGROUP NOTES – DOG TO DOG SUMMARIES: Bora Bora came in as stray so his behavior around other dogs is unknown. Bora Bora was extremely shut down when interacting with a novel dog. When introduced to a familiar female dog (HAZEL, ID 24650), Bora Bora became confident and roamed the pens with her. As he continued to participate in Playgroup, he was able to interact with unfamiliar female dogs. The Behavior Department recommends that Bora Bora be placed with the familiar female dog (HAZEL, 24650), and slowly introduced to novel dogs at his own pace. PLAYGROUP SUMMARY 1, 4/8: Bora Bora is extremely fearful. While attempting to bring him outside to playgroup he balked and pancaked. We did do an on-leash greet with a novel female dog. He exchanged a few sniffs but still did not attempt to stand up and follow her. PLAYGROUP SUMMARY 2, 4/9: Bora Bora initially was tucked into a ball, in the corner of the yard until a familiar female dog (HAZEL) approached him. He stood up, exchanged greets and then spent the entire session exploring the yard with her. PLAYGROUP SUMMARY 3, 4/10: Today, Bora Bora was more comfortable and engage in a toy item with the familiar female dog. PLAYGROUP SUMMARY 4, 4/11: Bora Bora greeted a novel female dog with nervous but soft posture. He followed her around the pens, sniffing her. ENERGY LEVEL:: Bora Bora displays a very low activity level in the care center. BEHAVIOR DETERMINATION:: NEW HOPE ONLY Behavior Asilomar: TM – Treatable-Manageable Recommendations:: No children (under 13),Place with a New Hope partner Recommendations comments:: New hope partner: Bora Bora has not acclimated well to the kennel environment and has not allowed any handling since intake. We recommend placement with a New Hope partner who can provide any necessary behavior modification (force-free, positive reinforcement-based) and re-evaluate behavior in a stable home environment before placement into a permanent home. Potential challenges: : Fearful Potential challenges comments:: Fearful: Bora Bora has shown high levels of fear in the care center in each interaction, though he manages his stress well and has not escalated to warning signs. He needs a very slow approach and the ability to warm up to new people and new environments at his own pace. Bora Bora should be permitted to initiate interactions and solicit attention when he feels comfortable, rather than being forced to interact. MEDICAL NOTES: 7/04/2018: DVM Intake Exam, Estimated age:3y. Microchip noted on Intake? None. History : found by police officers wandering street. Subjective: crouched in cage, shaking. Observed Behavior – very nervous, crouched in cage and during exam, very stiff, unable to walk. Fearful. Evidence of Cruelty seen – none. Evidence of Trauma seen – none. Objective: T = , P = 80, R = 20, BCS 3/9, EENT: right eye has a cherry eye, mild mucoid discharge OD; OS clear, ears clean, no nasal or ocular discharge noted. Oral Exam: limited exam; muzzled- clean incisors. PLN: No enlargements noted. H/L: NSR, NMA, CRT < 2, Lungs clear, eupnic. ABD: Non painful, no masses palpated. U/G: intact male, smooth and symmetrical. MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat. CNS: Mentation appropriate – no signs of neurologic abnormalities. Rectal: clean on assessment. Assessment; cherry eye OD, underweight. Prognosis: good. Plan: start neo-poly-dex ointment BID; given in exam. add a third feeding. schedule surgery. recommendation for adopter to follow up with cherry eye surgery. SURGERY: Okay for surgery. 9/04/2018: S: Copious amounts of soft liquid diarrhea reported by volunteer and seen on rounds. Eating well, has been getting 3 feedings a day. Objective: EENT: no ocular or nasal discharge, Oral Exam: mild tartar and gingivitis. H/L: no murmurs or arrhythmias, crt 1.5 sec, pink moist. strong synchronous femoral pulses. Abd: soft abdominal palpation. MSI:ambulatory x 4. Mentation: BAR. A: diarrhea- parasites v. stress v. IBD v. EPI v. other. PLAN: Metronidazole- 500mg PO BID x 5 days. fecal exam- schduled for tomorrow. recheck at end of metronidazole to assess diarrhea, if no improvement recommend bloodwork/ultrasound for further diarrhea work up. 10/04/2018: Progress exam. History : stray intake 4/7-started on neopolydex for cherry eye OD and TID feedings. 4/9: started on metronidazole for diarrhea. Subjective: BAR. No cvs but is still having diarrhea. Very nervous and is trying to escape from cage. Objective: EENT: Eyes clear with cherry eye OD, no nasal or ocular discharge noted. H/L: Normal RR/RE. MSI: ambulatory x4. CNS: Mentation appropriate – no signs of neurologic abnormalities. Assessment: Diarrhea-whipworms and roundworms. Cherry eye OD. Underweight. Prognosis: excellent. Plan: CTM while at BACC. Cancel neopolydex due to behavior. Rec cherry eye repair with placement. Continue TID feedings. Continue metronidazole 15mg/kg PO BID until 4/14. Fecal-3+ whipworms. Start panacur 50mg/kg PO SID x3d until 4/12. *** TO FOSTER OR ADOPT *** BORA BORA IS RESCUE ONLY! You must PRIVATE MESSAGE our page or email us at [email protected] for assistance with fostering or adopting him. He cannot be reserved on the ACC ARL online list, nor can he be direct adopted at the shelter. If you would like to adopt a dog on our “To Be Killed” list, and you CAN get to the shelter in person to complete the adoption process **within 48 hours of reserve**, you can reserve the dog online until noon on the day they are scheduled to die. We have provided the Brooklyn, Staten Island and Manhattan information below. Adoption hours at these facilities is Noon – 8:00 p.m. (6:30 on weekends) HOW TO RESERVE A “TO BE KILLED” DOG ONLINE (only for those who can get to the shelter IN PERSON to complete the adoption process, and only for the dogs on the list NOT marked New Hope Rescue Only). Follow our Step by Step directions below! **PLEASE NOTE – YOU MUST USE A PC OR TABLET – PHONE RESERVES WILL NOT WORK! *** STEP 1: CLICK ON THIS RESERVE LINK: https://newhope.shelterbuddy.com/Animal/List Step 2: Go to the red menu button on the top right corner, click register and fill in your info. Step 3: Go to your email and verify account Step 4: Go back to the website, click the menu button and view available dogs. It should read, "reserve in progress". That is YOUR reserve. Step 5: Scroll to the animal you are interested and click reserve STEP 6 ( MOST IMPORTANT STEP ): GO TO THE MENU AGAIN AND VIEW YOUR CART. THE ANIMAL SHOULD NOW BE IN YOUR CART! Step 7: Fill in your credit card info and complete transaction Animal Care Centers of NYC (ACC) nycacc.org HOW TO FOSTER OR ADOPT IF YOU **CANNOT** GET TO THE SHELTER IN PERSON, OR IF THE DOG IS NEW HOPE RESCUE ONLY! You must live within 3 – 4 hours of NY, NJ, PA, CT, RI, DE, MD, MA, NH, VT, ME or Norther VA. Please PRIVATE MESSAGE our page for assistance. You will need to fill out applications with a New Hope Rescue Partner to foster or adopt a dog on the To Be Killed list, including those labelled Rescue Only. Hurry please, time is short, and the Rescues need time to process the applications. Shelter contact information Phone number [phone] Email [email protected] Shelter Addresses: Brooklyn Shelter: 2336 Linden Boulevard Brooklyn, NY 11208 Manhattan Shelter: 326 East 110 St. New York, NY 10029 Staten Island Shelter: 3139 Veterans Road West Staten Island, NY 10309 LIKE AND FOLLOW FOR NEW CONTENT EVERYDAY <3 for more visit: www.memelang.ml

#memes #funny #funnymemes #savage #savagememes #dopeaf #memesdaily #meme #funnyvideos #dankaf #dankmemes #goodmo

[kpssmithwrites]

Zevran = 1 Alistair = 2 Wynne = 3 Leliana = 4 Sten = 5 Oghren = 2 Morrigan = 4 Loghain = 5 Shale = 3 Dog = 1

These responses got really long so I put them under a cut!

 Zevran

1. How did your Warden react to Zevran’s failed attempt on their life? Were they amused? Angry?

Originally, Bralinden reacted with a healthy amount of caution and anger. To see some random elf stroll out, and then everyone try to attack her, is not a good first impression. She did not take it well, and took her surprise and anger out on the lackies that had been hired. After the Blight, she tried to find their families, for what compensation she could offer them.

After the fight and Zevran had been knocked out, Bralinden sorely considered just killing him. Everyone was out to get her, and now there was a one of those people at her mercy. She met Zevran late enough in her quest, however, so the initial anger over the Battle of Ostagar had cooled somewhat. 

It was because she wasn’t as furious with life that she attempted to be the “better person” and give him a chance. There were mixed reactions, of course, but considering her track record of her traveling party, they couldn’t really tell her “No, we can’t bring this elf that we found on the side of the road after he tried to kill us,” and she kept a close eye on Zevran. However, his political loyalties–the idea that Bralinden could hopefully keep him safe from the employers that he failed–made sense to her. They now shared a common enemy, and mercenaries, for the most part, are in it for the business, not revenge, so as long as she didn’t piss him off she wouldn’t have a knife in her back.

However, when they’re both old and grey, with three children. she finds it hilarious that he tried to kill her. As if he could ever (and, to be honest, his first attempt went really bad. He didn’t stand a chance). It’s her favorite story to tell their children, how their father spectacular tried and failed murder her and their “Uncle Alistair,” once the children were older.

Alistair

2. Did Alistair’s parentage surprise your Warden? How did your Warden’s feelings on the nobility affect their relationship with Alistair?

There were a few stages that Bralinden went through when she discovered Alistair’s parentage. In a weird way, they were a warped version of grief.  The first one–and the shortest–was denial. For a solid five minutes, she thought the universe was shitting her. There was no way that Alistair–Alistar, who jokes about shimmying down the line of darkspawn in a dress to be a distraction–was the son of a king. 

Then it was anger–at him, for not telling her. She was rather up-front with him about where she was from, who she had been, so didn’t he owe her the same courtesy? That cooled pretty quickly, however, once she realized how dickish it sounded that she was practically demanding for him to fess up that he was a bastard of a dead king, something he had been trying to ignore himself. Their relationship, at this point, was a bit rocky, since she was surly to begin with and Alistair thought that she was blaming him for all of this. Eventually, however, Bralinden apologizes, and the two make up.

Then there was the bargaining–with Arl Eamon. Once he hatched the idea that Alistair try and take the throne, Bralinden did everything she could to try and persuade him otherwise. Alistair wasn’t prepared for rule, or politics. He didn’t want to be king. But when Alistair caved, Arl Eamon’s mind was set, and Bralinden realized that it would do more damage if she tried to set these weird humans from their messed up sense of purpose. Alistair kept telling her not to worry–and while their relationship became tense, so to speak, Bralinden tried to keep her idea of his best interests in mind.

After that, she became very irritable anytime someone brought up that Alistair could possibly be king. What was the point of being a Grey Warden if they didn’t get to stick together? She couldn’t fathom it that someone who was so ill-prepared for politics was going to be thrust upon a throne with very little warning or preparation all because of a power grab. This fueled a lot of her anger towards Loghain, because Alistair seemed rather uncomfortable with the whole exchange to her. He picked up on her anger, but realized it wasn’t directed towards him.

Then, a slight delay from the grief plan, was plotting. Bralinden realized he could help him. One way or another. She wasn’t sure how quite yet, so she started reading up on the structure of Ferelden politics. Alistair was not aware of this. This is when she reached acceptance. She would help him by either becoming an advisor. Then she found out about Chancellor. She decided, that if Alistair was going to be king, if he was of royal blood and they were going to use that, she wasn’t going to just throw him to the wolves. When she announced her plans to the group, Alistair was stunned–and then grateful, because he had no idea what he was doing. Bralinden also had very little idea, but at least she had more experience in politics. The two have been close ever since, working together to keep Ferelden afloat.

Wynne

3. How did your Warden feel about the Spirit of Faith within Wynne? Did they see it as possession?

In truth, Bralinden’s understanding of the Fade, of spirits, of possession, and the taboos that are associated with it through humans, elves, and anyone else on the surface is very limited. She understands it from books, but never actually experienced an issue with it.

So, when she finds out about the Spirit of Faith within Wynne, she asked three main questions: “Are you still you?” “Is it hurting you?” and “Are you okay with it?” Wynne answered her questions pretty directly, so Bralinden decided that it was okay.

She also had to learn quickly that spirits chilling in people isn’t as common as she thought. However, it helped prepare her for Justice once she wound up at Amaranthine. While many individuals are generally upset with spirit possession, as long as the spirit itself didn’t show any malice, Bralinden is pretty calm–but she trusts the person’s word over the spirit’s. Just as a rule of thumb.

Leliana

4. Did your Warden believe that Leliana was telling the truth about her vision from the Maker or were they skeptical?

Bralinden’s limited knowledge on the Maker was amplified by the fact that Bralinden isn’t particularly religious. So, when Leliana confided that it was a vision that guided her to Bralinden, Bralinden was not convinced. She didn’t outwardly state that she thought Leliana was a bit strange, but she certainly thought it. She just forced something that vaguely resembled a smile, nodded, and decided to never speak out religion, visions, or the Maker again.

Then again, as a dwarf, Bralinden did not have fun experiences with dreams in the fade until the issue at Kinloch Hold, so the idea of something speaking to her and actually being convincing was slim. It was after her trip to the fade that Bralinden actually started to believe that Leliana definitely heard something. Whether it was the Maker or not, she’s really not sure. The idea of having a faith to guide you seemed like a good idea, especially during some of the rougher moments during their journey. Bralinden, to this day, still is not sure if Leliana had a vision, or if she just decided to help. At this point, Bralinden decided that it doesn’t matter. Leliana has a faith that guides her, and if it meant that she believed in the Maker, then so be it.

Sten

5. Was your Warden amused by Sten’s love of cookies?

Privately yes, Bralinden was very amused by Sten’s love of cookies, and saw it as an advantage. The two didn’t see eye to eye at first, for various reasons–but the fact that he adored cookies humanized him a little bit to her. She used the cookies as a bridge to work on their respective issues, kind of like a carrot on a stick. If there was a problem, she’d come bearing cookies. If she needed to talk, she’d come bearing cookies. If she found cookies, she would give them to him because honestly, cookies aren’t her favorite sweet treat. They never really commented on it, but after Sten returned home, Bralinden would linger at the bakery a moment or too longer before buying one cookie, for old time’s sake.

Oghren

2. What were your Warden’s feelings on berserkers? Were they frightened of them? Were they a berserker themselves?

Bralinden was never frightened by berserkers, not even as a child. Dwarves created berserkers–presumably out of necessity–so she determined that as long as they were not aimed towards her, then they were not a problem. When she was young, just learning how to hold a sword and shield, she fancied becoming one at one point. She had a lot of anger as a child, so her brothers and father often saw her training, furiously beating training dummies to a pulp. When berserkers walked the training grounds, or she trained underneath them, she idolized them, because she never saw them on the field.

If anything, she was mainly concerned for the fact that Oghren, specifically, was a berserker. He was much less spectacular than she had pictured. The idea of being a berserker was extremely messy, chaotic, and dangerous, which didn’t fit her role in the group. As a commanding officer, she needed to have her wits about her. So, she just made sure that Oghren didn’t get into too much trouble as he massacred everything around them.

Morrigan

4. Did your Warden attempt to find Morrigan after the Blight? Did they ever succeed in meeting her again?

You bet your butt she did. Bralinden, after finding out that Morrigan effectively ran for it–pregnant with Kieran, no less–Bralinden tried to find her. She sent out people through Alistair’s new connections but didn’t have any luck, and then she was made Warden-Commander and she had even more duties to uphold.

However, two and a half years later (give or take) Bralinden did succeed in meeting Morrigan again. Bralinden yelled at her–quite a lot–and when Morrigan disappeared back into the Eluvian, Bralinden was still hurtling insults. Mostly, Bralinden was angry that Morrigan didn’t trust her enough for Bralinden to help her.

In my own canon for the story, I’d like to think that Morrigan, a year or so later after Bralinden was no longer in the position of Warden-Commander and just Chancellor for Alistair, they made contact again, and kept in contact. Morrigan was the first to find out that Bralinden and Zevran were going to have children, after Zevran, Alistair, and herself, and they do get to meet again at least in passing during the issue happening with the Inquisition. Bralinden and her family certainly passed through Orlais during their journey west, and during that time, Bralinden decided that her quest could be delayed a few days so that her children could meet Morrigan, and Kieran.

Loghain

5. Did Loghain survive the Landsmeet? If he did, why did your Warden choose to let him live?

In Bralinden’s timeline, no, Loghain did not survive Landsmeet. Bralinden didn’t know the political climate very well and by the time she actually arrives at the Landsmeet, Loghain had crossed the last line. He had tried to kill her one too many times, did not repent. While she understood that he thought he was doing the right thing, she too thought she was doing the right thing, and she knew that if he were in her position, he would not have granted her mercy.

She doesn’t talk about his death much after it happened. She tries to kindle some sort of relationship with Anora–after all, she is the daughter of a war hero, and a respected figure of Ferelden–but it doesn’t do much.

She did her best to make it quick, and painless, refusing anyone else to do it–even Alistair. The choice was her decision, so she was determined to carry it out. Even when she’s older, and people ask if she thought she did the right thing, she simply replies, “I did what I thought was right at the time.” The few who know her well enough to get her to speak on it, knows that she’s still not sure whether she made the right decision.

What makes it so sad that I think, if they had met under different circumstances, I imagine they would have gotten along quite well. They have the same sort of mindset–do what they think is right, at all costs. They just wound up on the opposing side of the conflict. One of these days, I might write an AU on it.

Shale

3. Did your Warden aid Branka or Caridin? Did their choice affect their relationship with Shale?

Bralinden aided Caridin for several reasons, both political and personal. Politically, she did not trust her brother, Bhelen, with this kind of power to make an nearly-indestructible army. She didn’t really trust anybody with the anvil–not even herself–so it seemed like the right decision to destroy the anvil with Caridin’s help.

On a more personal level, Bralinden was deeply uncomfortable with the implication and the means in which Branka discovered the anvil. She could see too many things going wrong if Branka brought it back to Orzammar. If by some chance someone could be trusted with it, there were too many people who couldn’t be. Considering her conscription into the Grey Wardens and the implications she didn’t know existed until it was too late, the idea of people becoming golems sounded like a terrible idea. Then, there’s the whole deal of how Branka sacrificed everyone to get to the anvil, and the Broodmother. The Broodmother gave Bralinden nightmares for weeks, and Bralinden found it satisfactory to crush Branka and her goals because of it. There had to have been a better way.

So, Bralinden and Shale’s relationship remained strong. Shale was present during the quest, and Bralinden discussed her reasoning with Shale after everything was said and done. While they weren’t the best of friends, they were on good terms.

Dog

1. Who’s a good boy?!

To Bralinden, Partha is most definately a very, very good boy.

#zannyblogging #bralinden aeducan #dragon age #da:o #dragon age origins #ask meme

[arle-the-mage-blog]

Time Warped Quest

Today is a good afternoon. As I look for a new adventure, I get ready for it and move on.

I seem to pick up this odd energy reading. Despite not being something powerful, this reading is remarkably powerful, and investigate it. I went there to a location where the odd energy thing happened, I see Doppelganger Arle. As I see her having discovered the dimensional breach, has detected this energy signature too. Realizing it could be a source of unspeakable power, she retrieves it.

Schezo came, just as the doppelganger of myself excavate the source of the signal, a mysterious gemstone from the ground. He exclaims, "What is that CREEP doing there?!" Doppelganger Arle replied, "I am not a creeper! YOU are the creeper!" He gets slightly mad, saying "You dare call me a creeper? Come back here!" I and he try attacking, but to no avail. Space-time suddenly warped around all of us, getting caught in the warp. We get catapulted to a familiar green hill that I've seen from ages.

I thought, "What was going on here?" The doppelganger said: "Now that I made the warp possible, you won't get me at the time!" I and Schezo tried to chase her, but the doppelganger struck us, which hurt us slightly. She then got away from us. Schezo told me "She must have retrieved something powerful, which IS just like your power." I reply to him that we have to go further and try to stop her, so we run through the green hill.

I encounter some enemies, this time they are stronger. Mostly, I have no trouble attacking them. Along a way, I find some mysterious items and elemental shields, which come in fire, water, and electric variants. After some distance of running, we both see a boss that I've never seen before. It looked like two mini metal balls linked by a chain. At first, the top one swings the bottom around, so I avoided it. After a while, both balls rotate around at high speeds, and I hit both of them. Schezo hits it, too. After that, the targetted machine blows up. This causes the remaining one to bounce around in which I got hit by that, so Schezo hit it for me.

Step after step, I find something that looks like a zipline. I did not want to go there, so I keep walking. I encounter someone who I know. It was Witch. She wonders why is she here. "What am I doing here? Why do I feel like I am not in where I was?" Schezo has to go find his way out alone. "I have to find a way out of here and try to go back to my world. I'll see you soon!" I say that I will see him too.

I tell Witch "We got warped here to the green hill by my doppelganger." Witch replied, "Hmmm... I don't think she did that. Why do you think she did that?" I tell her the she did. Witch says "No way, how did it happen?" I explain to her that when I was looking for an adventure, she got a gemstone, then we got warped here. Witch is shocked for a bit, then says, "Your doppelganger did? We have to stop her from doing that! May I ask to join you?" I reply "I guess. As long as we find her." "Okay," she said. "Let's find her!" 

More enemies were defeated by us, until... we find the doppelganger of me. She sees us and says "Well, if it isn't Arle. And where is the boy with you? And who's that girl with the hat?" I reply "He's gone somewhere. And the girl's name is Witch." She says "So she's Witch... Clever. Very clever." Witch tells her "I WON'T be stopped by you! We want to go back to our world!" We both attack her,and she gets hit slightly. "Hey, what's the matter? You decided to hit me? Well let's have a fight!"

We use our spells against her in the fight. I missed, and Witch strikes her. Doppelganger Arle tries to hit me, but I avoided her. Witch is hurt by her. We charge, and she gets hit, sending her a little far from us. However, she gets up quickly, and I ponder, "What are we supposed to do?" Witch tells me "I think we will have to keep on going!" We proceed to attack her at full force then she gets knocked. Then, I try striking her but failed. Not even Witch could succeed at this. 

After a few minutes of fighting, we suddenly tire out. Doppelganger Arle says "Well, you got tired from the fight? Now it's time to finish--" but she got interrupted as I hit her. "What? I did not even finish what I was saying! Okay then, here's the second time to try catching me!"

She wielded the gemstone from before afterward. As this happened, we get warped to a dungeon. After over 15 minutes of chasing her, we suddenly get into a Puyo match with her. "All right. Let's try this!"  I get a 5 chain, while she gets 4 chains. Now the attack is not that strong. I try 3 chains,with her getting 2. I get another 5 chain and she gets 2 again. She gets defeated... again.

It has been an hour since then, we get warped more times, and prepare for a final showdown with her. Witch leaves me, saying "Okay then. You try defeating the doppelganger so you can get back with us to our world. See you!" I used a strong spell but the doppelganger avoided it. "What? Do you think you can try to stop me? You won't find a way to do it." She uses a stronger attack than me, and this hits he so hard that I fell unconscious. "Well... I knew you couldn't stop me. What could go wrong?" Amitie found me. "Arle, are you all right?" The doppelganer said "I stopped her." Amitie is upset. "So you're the one who defeated her then? All right. I am ready for this! Please don't go easy on me...!" She attacks then this time it is not weak. 10 minutes, she defeated her for me.

"Impossible... Why are you so stronger than Arle?!" Amitie says "I won't tell." The doppelganger says "Well, I will be back. Next time I wont be defeated!" Amitie recovers me "Oh Amitie! How'd you get here?" She tells me "I was around looking for you. And when I saw you laying down, I helped you by attack her!" "Thanks! Now to get back to our world!" I acquired the gemstone... and we are back at our world!

I told her what happened for me, then she said "Oh, you must be in another adventure. It looked interesting, didn't it?" I reply "It was. Now, lets go to the park!" We went to the park to have more fun.

#puyo puyo

[askchanceoffates]

Chapter 2

Light filtered through the tiny window high up on the wall, casting a glare directly onto her face. She grumbled and rolled over, burying her face into her pillow, desperately trying to drown out the sounds of the clanging pots and pans in the kitchen barely separated from her and her cousins shared room. Speaking of cousin…

“Wake up”

There she is. The thin blankets were pulled off of the city elf’s body. The elf grumbled, turned onto her side, and curled into a ball. “Go away Shianni.”

“No. Get up, or you’re going to be late.”

“Late for what?”

It was silent for a few moments, then “You seriously don’t remember?”

“No.”

“The wedding?”

The elf bolted upright, eyes wide.

“Fuck.”

The ears on her head went down slightly, her mop of tangled red curls wild on her head. She turned her stare onto her cousin, eyes comically wide. “Do I have to?”

“Yes. You know what Valendrian said.”

“It’s stupid.”

Shianni rolled her eyes and pushed one of her small bounds of hair out of her face. “Get up. You can’t hide in your bed forever. Maybe you can find Soris and you two can wallow in your misery together.”

The city elf glared and grabbed her pillow, whapping it over her cousin’s head. Shianni laughed and shoved her cousin out of the bed before skipping out of the room, tossing over her shoulder “don’t you dare get back into bed.”

Revas groaned as she looked up to the ceiling, sending a quick prayer to the Maker or Mythall or whoever was out there. Maybe her mom. She stood from her heap on the floor and rolled her shoulders. Whelp, time to face the day.

A small groan escaped her, and her shoulders slumped.

Today she was to get married.

After an almost uncomfortable run in with her dad, Revas donned a new pair of boots that were her mothers and a quick demand that she stop being a child and, once again, told to find Soris she was out the door. After conning the drunkards out of money she pulled her hair into a tame ponytail that she was sure was going to come apart soon enough. Her hair, it seemed, had a mind of its own. She’s gone through countless hair ties and haircuts were too expensive to get it all chopped off. Not to mention that they would have to detangle it first. The only thing that would probably actually do anything to keep her hair in one piece would be those little charms in the shops, but try getting your hands on one of those. The city guards keep an eye on her for two reasons, she’s an elf, and she’s a damn good thief. The kind of person to steal the belt off of your trousers without you even noticing.

She ran through the alienage, hearing both congratulations and scathing remarks from her neighbours. After convincing a leaving family to let their daughter stay behind with Revas’ father she tried to hide in her friend’s store. He promptly kicked her out, telling her to be a good wife now. Revas eventually found Soris, though he even seemed excited about the prospect of getting married, but that may be because she tried to convince him help her find the Dalish, so…

No, it was because he’s a loser and wanted to get married.

Taedor, her fiancé, was handsome enough (go Dad, picking out a cute boy for me) and seemed rather nice, but whether or not he was up to her standards would be seen soon enough. A lock of red hair slid into her face, and she blew it back with a huff. Figures that her hair would start coming out of the ponytail now, when she should at least be looking decent. “Hello, my name is Revas. I’m sure that you’ve heard quite a bit about me seeing that you have become friends with Soris.”

“Some of it was nice.”

“Hey, I just wanted to give you a fair chance to run.”

Revas’ shoulders dropped a little, her ears falling just a tiny bit. Before her or Soris could say anything else, however, startled cries rang through the village. Revas looked towards the commotion, and when Soris noticed the sour expression on her face he turned too. A group of nobles, about three or four had entered the plaza. They shoved an elven boy out of the way, practically trampling them in their haste. “Grab a whore boys. There is plenty to go around.” Shocked gasps and angry murmurs left the small crowd that was starting to gather. The leader, or so it seemed, grabbed Shianni by the waist and pulled her close. “Let go of me!” She shoved herself out of his grasp and merged into the crowd, pulling a trait that all city elves seem to have. Be invisible. Don’t get caught. Don’t draw attention to yourself.

The noble man, now noticeably drunk, smirked when his slightly glazed over eyes ran over the group of elves and smiled when it landed on Revas.

“Well, hello there. Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” He shoved her cousin and her fiancé out of the way. When he grabbed a hold of her chin and tilted her head up her ears went flat against her head. Snarling, she smacked his hand away from her.

"Don’t fucking touch me, Shem.”

“Oooh, we got a feisty one boys! Tell me, sweetheart –”

A large wine jug broke over his head, the cheap wine and glass shards raining down. Revas side stepped as the human noble fell forward. Behind where he was once standing, Shianni stood holding the remains of the shattered jug.

A hush fell over the crowd, occasionally broken by Shianni’s hard breathing. She had a crooked little smile on her face. The enraged outcry of the fallen noble’s companion broke the silence for good. “Do you have any idea of what you have just done? That is the Arl of Denerims son, Vaughan Kendells. And you,” he snarled into Shianni’s face “just hit him over the head with a wine jug.”

Shianni finally dropped the remains of the jug, stepping back from both the shards and the putrid breath of the noble, her eyes wide and the crooked smile gone. Her hands raised to cover the lower half of her face, and tears started to bud in her eyes. The noble’s companion raised his hand as if to hit her.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You and your friends have caused enough trouble for us today, and what she did was completely justified. I’m sure that the Arl would turn a blind eye to a couple of nobles having their arms ripped off and shoved so far down your throat that people would be able to shake hands with your ass.” Revas tilted her head to the side and smiled. “Now grab your friend and, for the sake of the Maker, don’t come back.”

She had never seen two fully grown men flee with an even bigger grown man tossed over their shoulders.

“What have I done? What have I done?” Shiannis horror was all over her face, written like an open book, her panic increasing steadily.

“What needed to be done.” Revas clapped a hand onto her cousin’s shoulder “you did good.”

“Besides, I highly doubt that he’ll tell anyone that he was taken down by an elven lass.” Soris cut in.

Shianni calmed down slightly, even managing to crack a tiny smile. Revas, being the evil little thing that she is, smiled widely at her cousin. “Remember, you did good.”

The crowd that had gathered quickly dispersed until it was just the soon be weds. There was an awkward silence, Revas’ betrothed smiling slightly. Shianni had left with the rest of the crowd, quickly giving her two cousins a hug. Soris suggested that they spoke with their fiancés and led his away.

“So…” Taedor started.

“Look, Taedor, you seem like a really nice guy and all, but I don’t want to get married.”

“Oh.” His face twisted up like he sucked on a bad lemon. He didn’t say anything after that and Soris quickly intervened.

“I think we should go let our fiancés’ to get ready.”

The two Highever elves left quickly, leaving the cousins standing side by side. As soon as they were out of sight Soris whacked Revas on the arm. She flinched and her ears twitched down, rubbing her arm. “Ow! What was that for?”

“Why, in the name of the Maker, did you say that for?”

“Because it was the truth? I don’t know why you’re getting upset about it. I figured you would try to convince him to run, anyways.”

“That’s beside the point.” Soris sighed and rubbed at his forehead. “We’re not children anymore. You can’t act like this. I can’t always come to the rescue when you and Shianni get yourselves into trouble.” The two cousins stood side by side, leaning into each other slightly. “Don’t look now, but another human just walked in.”

Revas looked towards where Soris was pointing. A man, about thirty years old, with shoulder length hair and a beard, dressed in full armor carrying two swords and a crossbow on his back was studying the giant tree in the middle of the alienage. He had a curious, if not slightly confused, look on his face. Standing beside him was a man, who looked to be around the same age as Revas, if not slightly older, and looked like he could be the stranger’s son.

“C’mon, let’s go see what he wants before any more trouble happens.” Revas sighed and rolled her shoulders. She bumped into Soris before leading the way.

Revas, silently cursing at herself for never really catching on to stealth, approached the stranger. He turned to face them, finally smiling slightly. “Hello.” The younger stranger frowned, but he wasn’t really staring at Revas herself, but at the retreating backs of the nobles.

Damn. The older one has a nice smile. Revas frowned slightly. At least he seemed nice. It would be a pity for him to be harmed. “Look, you seem nice and all, and I’m sure we would be welcoming any other day, but as it is, we already had a couple of Shems come in and cause some trouble. It might be the best for all of us if you just left.”

The man threw his head back and laughed. “You are quiet brave, threatening a visibly armed man with no weapons of your own.” The younger man smirked slightly.

Revas shrugged, her arms crossed across her chest. “Yes, well, I’m deadlier than I look. Also, Soris generally says I’m too stupid to actually be able to tell what danger is.”

There was a twinkle in the man’s eyes as he smiled at Revas. Valendrian popped up beside them. Where he came from, Revas didn’t know, but the fact that he was there meant one of two things. He was either about to force Revas away from the strangers and chase them out or

“This is a friend of mine. His name is Duncan. He’s a Grey Warden. The young lad beside him is a Warden recruit.”

That. Well then. Revas felt the blood rushing to her face, and she covered her face with her hands. “A Grey Warden. I just threatened a Grey Warden. I’m so sorry. If I had known…”

Duncan laughed again. “There is no harm done. I just came by to say hello to an old friend. Besides, I hear there is a wedding happening today. It would be rude of me to not at least give my blessing.”

“Speaking of wedding, Soris, Revas, isn’t it time for you two to be married?” Valendrian raised an eyebrow.

“And here I was hoping that you forgot about that.” Revas shrugged. “I guess we should be going.”

Revas and Soris stood side by side, pinkies linked as the priest started the ceremony. Revas wasn’t entirely sure what was said or for how long she was standing there because she had tuned the lady out, but she snapped back to attention when the nobles from before, now with some guards, crashed the party.

“Grab a whore boys. There’s plenty of them here.”

“Vaughan! This is a wedding!”

“Look, sister, you can dress up your pets as you see fit, and have them play your little games, but at the end of the day, they’re nothing but animals. Besides, I’m having a party,” Vaughan walked behind Revas and stroked her chin, “we’re short on female company.” He moved to the front of the crowd again. “Grab the blushing brides, boys, and where’s the bitch that hit me?”

“She’s right here Vaughan.” One of the humans pushed Shianni to the front.

“Let go of me!” Shianni fought out of the nobles grip and he tripped her, stopping the escape that the frantic elf was trying to make.

“Leave her alone!” Revas pushed her way to Shianni’s side and helped the girl to her feet.

“You stupid little whore!” Revas turned, and before she could do much else the side of a hand hit her face and she crumpled.

Revas groaned and rubbed the side of her face. She slowly sat up, and winced as her entire right side of her face throbbed. She squinted her eyes and took in the sight.

Elven women surrounded her. One was broken away from the group, rocking back and forth praying. The other women had formed a semicircle around Revas, Shianni right beside her.

“Hey cuz. That wasn’t your swiftest dodge in the world.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” She rubbed her face again. “Is everyone okay? Have they come yet?”

“Not yet. But we have to do something before they do come. Try and find a way to escape, or an attack plan or something.” Shianni glanced at her cousin, eyes hopeful.

“So why are you looking at me? You come up with the plans. Whenever I come up with a plan Soris is the one to bail us out. You come up with plan. I’ll put the plan into action.” Rub, rub, rub. “I’m terrible at making plans.”

“Oh, so what are we going to do? Storm the guards when they get here and hopefully don’t get killed in the process? No! We should sit here, and when they come to take us we let them do what they want, and then we go home and forget it ever happened.” That came from the praying woman separated from the group.

“Someone smack her. She’s hysterical.” Rub, rub, rub, rub, rub. By the time Revas was done rubbing her face she was going to need to grow a new layer of skin.

Finally, Revas stood. She wobbled a bit, and was steadied by her cousin and Soris’ fiancée. Huh. She was there too. Makes sense.

The door to the chamber they were being held in swung open. Guards piled in. Some were carrying weapons, others were in full armor, but all of them had the same, sick grin on their faces. If Revas just had a dagger or a sword she was cut those smiles off of their faces. In the middle of the guards was one of the nobles. The praying elf screamed when one of the guards came close and tried to back away, only to have a sword run through her. Her empty body fell to the ground. The other girls gasped, and a broken sob escaped one of the throats of the captives. The girls allowed themselves to be led out. The one noble, the one Revas had chased out earlier, leered at her and left her alone with the company of two guards, with his parting words being “Careful boys. This one is a fighter.”

One of the two guards shoved Revas and she stumbled back, using the wall to catch herself before she fell. Behind the guards the door was left wide open, and through it she could see Soris sneaking forward, a crossbow in his hands and his quiver on his hip, and, more importantly, a sword in his hands.

A smirk crossed Revas’ features, even though it tugged on her bruise. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“And why is that, little thing?”

Her finger pointed to her cousin and the guards turned around. “And what is one armed elf going to do against us?”

The sword in his hands slid against the floor and under the guards. Revas snatched up the blade, and before one of the guards could even raise his blade he was cut down. The other was filled with so many arrows so fast that he couldn’t even raise alarm and when he fell to the ground he resembled a pin cushion.

“Nice to see you again Soris. What happened to not coming to my rescue anymore?”

“Old habits die hard. Nice bruise on your face.”

“That bad, huh?”

Soris shrugged.

Blood dripping off of her stolen armor and blades twirling, a snarl on her face, was what the guards met. The deadly dance that she worked through had the guards on the floor, resistance unmet. Taedor laid dead in the kitchen, slain before the quest truly started. Somewhere along the way her hair band had snapped, the locks spilling over her shoulders.

They found the other girls, Shianni missing from the group. As Soris calmed them down Revas scouted ahead. Soris joined her soon enough. “I sent the girls on the way out. They’re safe, but just want this experience to be over with. They said Shianni was taken into another chamber though.”

Revas nodded and Soris winced. This was bad. Revas had two ‘fight modes’. There was the one where she shot little remarks towards her opponent and doesn’t take anything seriously. Then there was the one where she was silent. There one second and gone the next. A shadow. A silent killer. An assassin without training.

Revas left her cousins side, walking on her tiptoes. She pushed open the heavy door, and growled quietly under her breath at the sight. A semicircle was formed around Shianni. She laid on the ground on her side, curled into a tiny ball. The frown on Revas’ face deepened. When the nobles noticed them the two lackeys started to laugh until Vaughan pointed out that they were covered in blood. He tried to bribe her so she would leave them alone. With a snarl Revas lunged at him, blades twirling. His two partners died quickly enough, and when he realized he wasn’t going to win Vaughan fell to his knees and started to beg for his life. Revas sword pierced through his stomach and she kicked his body off of the blade.

Revas knelt by Shianni’s side. She touched the trembling elf softly. Her cousin let out a sob and flinched away from the gentle touch. “No more, no more.”

“Shh. Shh Shianni. He’s dead. They’re all dead.” Revas helped her cousin to her feet. Soris made to go help them, but backed away when a glance was shot towards him. Slowly, the trio moved towards the exit of the castle.

Guards had arrived by the time Shianni was settled into a bed. Revas was still wearing her stolen armor, but Soris was back in his civvies. When the guards were noticed one of the elven children ran and grabbed her and Soris and brought them to Valendrian. Duncan, the Grey Warden, was there too. The Warden recruit wasn’t anywhere to be found.

Revas took the blame of the slaughter that had happened at the Arls home. When Soris tried to speak up she stomped on his foot. The guards made a move to arrest her when she was recruited. The guards gave a warning to have her gone by the evening. With a promise from the Warden that she would be they left.

Duncan turned to her and told her to make her goodbyes and that this would probably be the last time that she would see them. A quick hug was given to Soris, and she told his fiancée to look after him. It was more of a threat than a joke. He wished her luck and told her to say goodbye to her Father.

She cried when she said goodbye to her Dad. She called him Daddy, something she hasn’t done since her Mother died. She almost stayed when she saw the tears streaming down his face. He wished her luck as well, and told her to write or he’d hunt her down and force her to see him. Revas had to remind her Dad that he was the only one in their family that could read or write, but promised to find a way to keep in touch. Shianni was awake when Revas managed to pull away from her Father. The two cousins hesitantly gave each other a hug. They pulled back from each other. A smile danced on Shianni’s face, and she promised to look after her Father and Soris. By the time her goodbyes were done she was a mess, face red and cheeks wet. The bruise on the side of her face throbbed.

She met Duncan at the gates. The Warden recruit was finally introduced as Markov Cousland, a noble from Highever. He barely glanced at her when she said hello. Great. Another noble who thought they were better than elves. With one last look at her home she asked where they were headed.

“The Circle of Magi. I have another friend to visit.”

“Uh huh. And do you happen to have a habit of recruiting people from your friend’s places?”

Duncan laughed at that. Revas smiled slightly, face throbbing. She brushed her hair out of her face.

Well, it’s not like she really wanted to stay anyway.

#revas tabris #a chance of fates chapter #grey warden #duncan #dragon age #dragon age origins #markov cousland #nymeria surana #multiwarden fanfiction #multiwarden fanfic #tw: rape #tw:rape mention

[bloojayoolie]

Being Alone, Bailey Jay, and Cats: ld 55662, 3 Yrs., 62 lbs. Brooklyn ACC Patches A prisoner in his home, never taken outside, a lonely youngster hopes for a life he's only dreamed of TO BE KILLED - 3/2/19 “He was too much for me to handle, so I never took him out of the home on walks” The unbelievable words that blurted out of the parent of poor PATCHES. He had to just do his business inside the house on the floor, he had to be happy with the four walls that were his prison, his few toys that he would hang on to, and sometimes “howl” over. Sometimes we can’t contain ourselves here at MLD and get so angry. Poor Patches, he just wanted to be a dog like every other young dog. He wanted to go outside and play. He tried, he really did, to get outside and see the world, but every time he would be dragged back inside. He needed exercise, he needed mental stimulation, he needed parents that would give him the time, patience and training every puppy needs. He needed a friend. Now Patches finds himself out in the world, the world he always wanted to see, but it is not what he had dreamed or hoped for. Instead it is a small windowless kennel, barking and whining dogs who miss their families all around him, and strangers he has never met, and was never allowed to meet during his life with his parents. This kid needs a chance, he needs to be a dog, he needs to be loved and given the life he has only dreamed of, and not death. Please save his life. If you are an experienced foster or adopter, in an adult only home, hurry and PM our page or email us at [email protected] to foster or adopting her now. As a staff member who loved Patches writes: "A staff member writes : I have found the best hugger in the world !!!! His name is patches and he is just amazing !! He doesn't really like being in his kennel . but that's because he cant hug you from in there . He walks good on the leash and loves looking at his human just to make sure that you are still by his side . Once I let him free in the play yard , he found his way right to my lap . He loves to gives hugs and rest his head on your chest . And if you move your hand from rubbing him he places his head in your hand as if he is saying " why you stop hooman ??" When he is ready to take a break from all the loving he has to give , he enjoys roaming around , zooming all over the place . Now add a ball to that and you got yourself a game of catch. Patches is super sweet and loving . This dog just loves to give love and loves to get love back . He just needs the right person to share that with . He had sewn a patch of love in my heart forever !!!" MY MOVIE! Please watch it. I'm a good boy! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ptExDTI1Y6o PATCHES, ID# 55662, 3 Yrs. Old, 63.43 lbs, Unaltered Male Brooklyn ACC, Large Mixed Breed, Brown / White Owner Surender Reason: I came into the shelter as a owner surrender on 24-Feb-2019, with the surrender reason stated as animal behaviour Shelter Assessment Rating: Animal Behavior – Aggressive to People Medical Behavior Rating: 4. Orange AT RISK MEMO: Due to the number of behavioral concerns reported in his previous home environment combined with the behavior observed in the care center, we feel as though Patches would be best set up to succeed if placed with an experienced rescue group. Patches remain highly uncomfortable with most handling as well as the approach from strangers, escalating to threatening behavior. Patches was diagnosed with dental disease. INTAKE NOTES – DATE OF INTAKE, 2/24/2019: Upon intake counselor did not do any handling with Patches. An animal behavioral Specialist took him from owner and took it to medical to get examined. SURRENDER NOTES – BASIC INFORMATION: Patches id approx.2 1/2 years old. He was surrendered to BACC due to behavioral issues. He previously lived with 3 adults and 1 child. Owner stated Patches behavior around strangers is unknown because it depends on the person he is with. Sometimes he will want to play and others he will bark at. Owner stated Patches lived with a 5 year old and he was fearful of the child. Has not been around other dogs, so his behavior around other dogs is unknown. Has not been around cats so it is unknown of his behavior. Owner stated Patches do resource guard his food and toys. If you try to take is away while he is eating or playing he will growl and try to snap at you. He has no bite history. He is not housetrained. He has a very high energy level. Other Notes:: Owner stated Patches uses the bathroom inside because they do not take him for walks. He get anxious when left alone. Patches is hard to control. Tries to escape the house. He barks too much and he will try to snap at people. For a New Family to Know: Owner stated Patches is a playful, confident, pushy, fearful and anxious dog. He howls with squeaky toys. He follows you around when your in the house. He like to wrestling, play tug and alert bar. He is mostly indoors. He eats both dry and wet food twice a day. He like to eat biscuits and bone treats. He is not house trained. He have accident daily in the house because owners never took him on walks, he was too much to handle. He will destroy thing in the household when left alone. He never been crate trained. He is hard to walk outside he will pull hard on the leash. SHELTER ASSESSMENT SUMMARIES – Date of assessment:: 2/27/2019 Summary:: In the care center Patches has tolerated some light handling, however, he does appear to escalate rapidly to growling, lunging and snapping if startled or uncomfortable. Out of concern for his stress level and handler safety, an assessment will not be attempted at this time. PLAYGROUP NOTES – DOG TO DOG SUMMARIES: Patches previous owner reported that he has not been around other dogs. 2/25: A brief gate greet was performed due to the handling sensitivity Patches has displayed in the care center thus far. Upon approach of the novel female dog, Patches slows his movements, freezes, hard stares, growls then barks once. The novel dog is moved away and no further interaction is conducted. INTAKE BEHAVIOR - Date of initial:: 2/24/2019 Summary:: See "in shelter observations" ENERGY LEVEL:: Patches is reported to have a high energy level in his previous home environment. IN SHELTER OBSERVATIONS:: 2/24 Medical behavior During his initial medical examination, Patches was trembling and panting though approached handler to lean in, appearing loose bodied. He allowed some petting and allowed most of the exam though began to struggle upon restraint; when second handler approached, Patches lunged and snapped. BEHAVIOR DETERMINATION:: New Hope Only Behavior Asilomar: TM - Treatable-Manageable Recommendations:: No children (under 13),Place with a New Hope partner Recommendations comments:: Place with a New Hope partner: Due to the number of behavioral concerns reported in his previous home environment combined with the behavior observed in the care center, we feel as though Patches would be best set up to succeed if placed with an experienced rescue group. Patches remains highly uncomfortable with most handling as well as approach from strangers, escalating to threatening behavior. We recommend exercising safe and appropriate management when introducing or exposing Patches to new and unfamiliar situations. Guidance from a professional trainer or behaviorist is highly advised. No children (under 13): Due to the intensity of Patches' escalation, we feel he should be placed into an experienced adult only foster home at this time where he can acclimate and decompress at his own pace. Potential challenges: : House soiling,Destructive behavior,Fearful/potential for defensive aggression,Anxiety MEDICAL EXAM NOTES 24/02/2019 DVM Intake Exam Estimated age: Approx 3-4 years Microchip noted on Intake? Positive - 911002001470267 History : Owner surrender Subjective: BARH, trembling initially, panting, approaches and sniffs hand when placed near him, approaches handlers and leans into petting, wagging tail and sometimes lose body. Allows petting of face and head, allows oral exam. Allows most of exam with minimal restraint, but starts to struggle against restraint when attempted to hold still. Suddenly snapped and lunged without warning when doctor came near and reached towards him to distract/pet during exam. Evidence of Cruelty seen - none Evidence of Trauma seen - none Objective P = wnl R = wnl BCS = 5/9 EENT: Eyes clear, ears clean, no nasal or ocular discharge noted Oral Exam: mostly clean dentition, some tartar caudally PLN: No enlargements noted H/L: NSR, NMA, Lungs clear, eupnic ABD: No obvious distention, did not perform abdominal palpation U/G: Male intact, did not palpate testicles but both appear to be descended MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat CNS: Mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities Rectal: did not examine Assessment: Mild dental disease Prognosis: Good Plan: Neuter. Behavioral assessment. SURGERY: Okay for surgery 24/02/2019 Large amount of blood noted in cage by ACS staff. Visual exam revealed broken left forelimb dew claw with some clotted blood dangling from the wound. Kennel floor and bedding bloody. Rechecked 2 hours later and wound is still bleeding, Patches in very active/pacing/barking in kennel. Plan: Start Rimadyl 50mg PO BID x 4 days Gave second dose of trazodone 100mg Start on trazodone 200 mg BID x 7 days Monitor wound 25/02/2019 HX: Noted to have broken dewclaw on intakes SO: Visual exam only BAR, unremarkable appetite and defecation no sneezing or cough noted no drainage, discharge reddening or swelling noted on left forelimb surroundings have scant blood staining that is not recent A: healthy patient P: will passively monitor for any further bleeding *** TO FOSTER OR ADOPT *** PATCHES IS RATED NEW HOPE RESCUE ONLY. You must fill out applications with New Hope Rescues to foster or adopt him. He cannot be reserved online at the ACC ARL, nor can he be direct adopted at the shelter. PLEASE HURRY AND MESSAGE OUR PAGE FOR ASSISTANCE! HOW TO RESERVE A “TO BE KILLED” DOG ONLINE (only for those who can get to the shelter IN PERSON to complete the adoption process, and only for the dogs on the list NOT marked New Hope Rescue Only). Follow our Step by Step directions below! *PLEASE NOTE – YOU MUST USE A PC OR TABLET – PHONE RESERVES WILL NOT WORK! ** STEP 1: CLICK ON THIS RESERVE LINK: https://ift.tt/2ynocEZ Step 2: Go to the red menu button on the top right corner, click register and fill in your info. Step 3: Go to your email and verify account \ Step 4: Go back to the website, click the menu button and view available dogs Step 5: Scroll to the animal you are interested and click reserve STEP 6 ( MOST IMPORTANT STEP ): GO TO THE MENU AGAIN AND VIEW YOUR CART. THE ANIMAL SHOULD NOW BE IN YOUR CART! Step 7: Fill in your credit card info and complete transaction HOW TO FOSTER OR ADOPT IF YOU *CANNOT* GET TO THE SHELTER IN PERSON, OR IF THE DOG IS NEW HOPE RESCUE ONLY! You must live within 3 – 4 hours of NY, NJ, PA, CT, RI, DE, MD, MA, NH, VT, ME or Norther VA. Please PM our page for assistance. You will need to fill out applications with a New Hope Rescue Partner to foster or adopt a dog on the To Be Killed list, including those labelled Rescue Only. Hurry please, time is short, and the Rescues need time to process the applications.

#funny #lol #humor #memes #meme #memehumor #dank memes #funny pics #rolf #lmao #Being Alone #Bailey J