Want to start a new thread, or continue an old one from a different place? Want a canon PSL, or would you prefer an AU? This is the place for all of it! Feel free to post your own starter (text, image, song, anything goes), choose a random scenario [ 1, 2 ], or PM me to plot something out!
[ooc: Soooooo...one thing I'd quite like to do is something set in Inquisition time, in a timeline where Hawke let Anders live but refused to run away with him after DA2, and then they run into each other by accident while Corypheus is causing chaos everywhere...yes/no?]
[ YES PLEASE! I remember we talked about this a while ago and I would love to write it out :D Do you have a preference of where on the map they run into each other? ]
[Hinterlands seems indicated to me! Tons of mage refugees for Anders to protect/hide amongst, and its huge. She can be there tracking down red lyrium and WHOOPS SURPRISE ROGUE TEMPLARS attacking refugees, that or someone can say "Hey, can you track down xyz for some coin/I hear this healer over in abc has this thing, can you run an errand for me" and then SURPRISE. Yes?]
[ That's perfect! After being kicked out by some of the other apostates, I think Anders would have made a little refuge for himself (at least a temporary one, wouldn't do to stay in one place too long). So I do like that second idea, with the first coming into play a little later >:D Because hell yeah Templar fights ]
The Circle library, despite seeming vast at first glance, is surprisingly limited in its scope. There’s plenty on history and folklore, for those who are interested in such topics, but it’s the tomes on magic that leave much to be desired. What there is to browse through is largely theoretical and broad, covering things like the schools of magic and Andrastian interpretations of what magic is in the eyes of the Maker. There’s almost nothing about how to actually apply magic in any meaningful way.
Frankly, it’s all dull as dirt. So can you blame a young mage for getting creative?
Anders is rather proud of the fact that his defacement of the books in the library has gone undetected so far. Some are just doodles: a cat, or a wand in an indecent sort of shape. His crowning masterpiece is a few dirty lines of poetry, scattered in a goose chase-like fashion among several volumes, each part a hint of where to find the next.
He’s doodling out his next piece in a dark corner of the library, in a nook half-forgotten behind some of the dustier shelves, when he hears a sound. The light scuffling of feet over stone, close by. Anders’s hand freezes, the quill leaving a blot on the paper before he comes to his senses and lifts it up.
This wouldn't be the worst thing he's done in Circle custody, but he doubts the Templars will be any more forgiving despite that. He looks up, tense, eyes darting around in search of the source of the sound.
Two years at Kinloch Hold, and Eldiana is still a very small girl for her age. Oh, she's improved from the tiny, ragged street-urchin the templars had brought in. Two years of good meals, of warm clothes and beds, two years of structure instead of the uncertainty of the alienage slums, and Eldiana looks better. Cheeks rounded the way a child's cheeks should be, her hair thick and shiny, her eyes - well, they are still watchful and clever, but no longer taking up so much of her little face. But she's still small, even for an elf-girl, and still quiet.
And, still, her inclination when she thinks she is in trouble is to hide. It was safer, when she lived on the Denerim streets with her da, and being small and sneaky means she's very, very good at hiding.
There are just two problems.
The first is the dust tickles her nose and catches in her throat and all of that, so no matter how hard she presses her hand to her mouth and nose, she sneezes.
The second is Eldiana's whisp. The little sprite, getting bored with hiding behind the wooden chest, bumbles out, flittering around with curious little squeaks.
Unfortunately for Eldiana, the sprite becomes instantly enamored with the laces on Anders' right shoe.
Anders blinks hard as the sprite floats up out of the shadows, and he watches with an almost dumbfounded air as it comes and hovers around his shoe. As the surprise wears off, he tilts his foot left and right, watching to see if the sprite follows. When he looks up again, his expression is more speculative than tense.
“Wisps,” he notes aloud, “don’t just appear on their own. Not the last that I checked.”
Now that it’s likely another mage he’s dealing with, he’s not totally relaxed... but neither is he about to bolt.
The moment Dorian was old enough he was running around and sleeping with his male peers. At first this could be chalked up to some teenage curiosity and a dash of rebellion and Halward could wave off any rumors. Dorian was a little more careful as he grew more experienced, more bold. That is until his Father told him he was to be married sooner rather than later and that they'd arranged it since his birth. His seemingly harmless rebellion turned to outright scandal, purposely sabotaging the Pavus name when he was found among elven whores. The last straw came when he was found in the bed of another Magister's son who, as it turns out, was due to be married the next day to his arranged betrothed. The amount of scandal that stirred put even more shame on Halward than he could bear.
So it was Halward could no longer turn a blind eye to his son's actions and his attempts to stall their plans for him. Dorian would disappear from Minrathous, despite his fathers hopes that their strict adherence to discipline might set him in line. Alexius would later find him and return him to the Gilded Quarter with every intent to tutor him, but Halward had other plans. Tired of his son running around in Tevinter he decided it was high time to show Dorian how good he's got it, by sending him to Kirkwall and the Gallows. So he could have a taste of the circles outside of Tevinter or the prisons that they were. It was meant to be temporary... so long as Dorian behaved and didn't do anything stupid, his son could come home and return to his proper studies.
Unfortunately Dorian had no intention of keeping himself inline, or becoming Tranquil. One way or another, and after a few stays in solitary confinement, Dorian managed to escape into Darktown. He followed some information, weak, weary and wounded to Anders' clinic, in hopes of finding help for more than just his aliments left over from imprisonment. He's dehydrated, more than a little malnourished and bruised from less than kind treatment in the circle.
"Hello? I'm looking for someone named Anders?" He leans against the nearest solid thing as he stumbles into the clinic and looks around, desperate and hoping no one's followed him or run off to get the templars.
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chiming
no subject
Date: 2019-03-31 01:34 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2019-04-01 07:42 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2019-04-01 04:06 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2019-04-03 11:06 am (UTC)From:Once upon a time in the Circle...
Date: 2019-04-01 07:35 am (UTC)From:The Circle library, despite seeming vast at first glance, is surprisingly limited in its scope. There’s plenty on history and folklore, for those who are interested in such topics, but it’s the tomes on magic that leave much to be desired. What there is to browse through is largely theoretical and broad, covering things like the schools of magic and Andrastian interpretations of what magic is in the eyes of the Maker. There’s almost nothing about how to actually apply magic in any meaningful way.
Frankly, it’s all dull as dirt. So can you blame a young mage for getting creative?
Anders is rather proud of the fact that his defacement of the books in the library has gone undetected so far. Some are just doodles: a cat, or a wand in an indecent sort of shape. His crowning masterpiece is a few dirty lines of poetry, scattered in a goose chase-like fashion among several volumes, each part a hint of where to find the next.
He’s doodling out his next piece in a dark corner of the library, in a nook half-forgotten behind some of the dustier shelves, when he hears a sound. The light scuffling of feet over stone, close by. Anders’s hand freezes, the quill leaving a blot on the paper before he comes to his senses and lifts it up.
This wouldn't be the worst thing he's done in Circle custody, but he doubts the Templars will be any more forgiving despite that. He looks up, tense, eyes darting around in search of the source of the sound.
no subject
Date: 2019-04-05 09:09 am (UTC)From:And, still, her inclination when she thinks she is in trouble is to hide. It was safer, when she lived on the Denerim streets with her da, and being small and sneaky means she's very, very good at hiding.
There are just two problems.
The first is the dust tickles her nose and catches in her throat and all of that, so no matter how hard she presses her hand to her mouth and nose, she sneezes.
The second is Eldiana's whisp. The little sprite, getting bored with hiding behind the wooden chest, bumbles out, flittering around with curious little squeaks.
Unfortunately for Eldiana, the sprite becomes instantly enamored with the laces on Anders' right shoe.
no subject
Date: 2019-04-14 02:12 pm (UTC)From:“Wisps,” he notes aloud, “don’t just appear on their own. Not the last that I checked.”
Now that it’s likely another mage he’s dealing with, he’s not totally relaxed... but neither is he about to bolt.
An AU where Dorian's dad is even more of an ass?
Date: 2019-05-03 02:50 am (UTC)From:So it was Halward could no longer turn a blind eye to his son's actions and his attempts to stall their plans for him. Dorian would disappear from Minrathous, despite his fathers hopes that their strict adherence to discipline might set him in line. Alexius would later find him and return him to the Gilded Quarter with every intent to tutor him, but Halward had other plans. Tired of his son running around in Tevinter he decided it was high time to show Dorian how good he's got it, by sending him to Kirkwall and the Gallows. So he could have a taste of the circles outside of Tevinter or the prisons that they were. It was meant to be temporary... so long as Dorian behaved and didn't do anything stupid, his son could come home and return to his proper studies.
Unfortunately Dorian had no intention of keeping himself inline, or becoming Tranquil. One way or another, and after a few stays in solitary confinement, Dorian managed to escape into Darktown. He followed some information, weak, weary and wounded to Anders' clinic, in hopes of finding help for more than just his aliments left over from imprisonment. He's dehydrated, more than a little malnourished and bruised from less than kind treatment in the circle.
"Hello? I'm looking for someone named Anders?" He leans against the nearest solid thing as he stumbles into the clinic and looks around, desperate and hoping no one's followed him or run off to get the templars.