Oct. 9th, 2011

jaebility: (ffx // j&defeated!a)
School and internships have been keeping me busy, but yesterday I had some time to catch up with what really matters: Dragon Age. Dragon Age FOREVER.

On the 360, I'm getting my Hawkes ready for the DLC exploding into the marketplace this Tuesday. Finished second playthrough of f!rogue!Hawke a while ago and am starting her up for the third time, this time as diplomatic. The voice actor for male!Hawke has dibs on the sarcastic lines. Sassy Gay Hawke is probably the best thing in existence. My m!mage!Hawke sauces is up all over the place, even when its inappropriate or downright mean.

I thought I'd be playing the Hawkes the same way, since I tend to stick to the same decisions each time I play the game, but it's interesting (to me, anyway), how differently the Hawkes developed in my head!canon. Larissa Hawke has become wiser and more jaded, turning her concern inward to her family and her lover as she realizes that she can't save Kirkwall. Tristan Hawke isn't as obsessed with freedom as Anders, but he does support it, if only to piss off their opponents. Both Hawkes latched onto their resident Ser Pouts-A-Lot because it is just impossible to resist his scruffy sadness. At the end of the game, Larissa stands by Anders because he's the only thing she has left, and she'll be damned if anyone takes him away from her. Tristan is more like MAGE BROFIST FOREVER.

But yeah, stoked for the DLC. Twenty hours of companion conversation. Twenty hours. How do they I don't even. One of our wedding presents from a gamer friend was XBox Live points, so I am all set to download the hell out the DLC.

Aaaaand I also got DA:O for the PC. I had an Amazon gift certificate and as much as I love DA:O, there are some annoying bugs and quirks in the 360 version. Playing as my Cousland again so I can romance Alistair. Modded the bejeezus out of it; the best one was probably the Skip the Fade mod, but the mod to give Wardens the sexy blue armor from DA2 may be my favorite.
jaebility: (Default)
Avernus/Ser Thrask - Stand Up
The Knight-Commander had overstepped her bounds again, sending Thrask to Ferelden to investigate a maleficar. She had said the mage was too close to the Free Marches, too dangerous to be ignored, too powerful for the weaker Fereldan templars to handle. She had done it to get rid of him, he suspected. Thrask had accepted for his own reasons, surviving the sail across the Waking Sea and the march through the mountains by prayer and stubbornness.

Getting past the traders who'd made camp at the decaying castle had been difficult, his armor and joints creaking in the freezing wind. He'd found the mage, as tainted at Meredith had promised, but too smart, too human to be a true abomination. Avernus talked, Avernus reasoned, Thrask was tired, Thrask was cold. He drew his sword and cleansed the magic miasma from the room, but Avernus in Warden colors instead of a robe continued wielding his quill, ignoring the staff collecting dust in the shadows and Thrask's arm aching under the weight of his shield shivering in his armor.

That night Avernus lit candles and tossed Thrask a bottle that was more vinegar than wine. The mage didn't sleep but lay beside the templar with a wheezing laugh. In the morning, Thrask woke up and stood up alone, then walked past the surprised traders and back down to where a ship waited to take him home.

Cailan Theirin/Finn - no one else to turn to
"I don't know," Finn said as he pulled another robe from the cabinet. "I think this is a bad idea. And by bad, I mean terrible."

"Stop worrying. No, this one doesn't fit either." Cailan yanked the robe down his arms and tossed it into the rapidly growing pile on Finn's bed. "Maker's breath, you mages are almost pathetically puny. I don't see why the templars are so afraid of you."

Finn glared over his shoulder, but Cailan's smile softened the insult. Finn sniffed disdainfully; the man had no right to make unkind remarks when he needed Finn's help to impersonate a mage to play a trick on the visiting, unforgiving Mother Perpetua. He was also stripped down to his smalls, which should have made him feel at least a smidgen ridiculous.

Not that he looked ridiculous. In fact, he looked rather marvelous.

Mistaking Finn's silence for a sulk, Cailan clamped his massive hand on Finn's shoulder (possibly breaking a bone or to there; maybe he really was puny). "Come on, old boy. I didn't mean to offend. You're the only one I could turn to. Imagine if I'd asked your enchanter Wynne? Or that one who looks like he's swallowed a lemon... Torrin."

"Try this one," Finn mumbled as he flung another robe over Cailan's thick arm. The hand on his shoulder squeezed gently and Finn could feel the warmth of it through the thick velvet of his own robe.
jaebility: (random // pokemans)
Bhelen Aeducan/Jowan - Save the one last dance
There is no other place in Ferelden for him to hide, so Jowan slides through the gates of Orzammar into the depths of the dwarven city to plead with the king for protection from the unyielding templar force chasing his blood. When he gets an audience, Bhelen is more amused than awed, but with a wave of his hand he grants Jowan a room in the palace and a job that surely even he can handle: entertainment. But there is also the idea that the king's enemies will be impressed by a maleficar included in court, and Jowan, gaunt and pale and taller than everyone else, is certainly strange enough to inspire concern among the nobles.

At come party, some event to celebrate Bhelen killing someone or other for something or other, Jowan stands by the throne and tries to look menacing. Bhelen grins up at him, then clamps his hand around Jowan's wrist to yank him down to eye level. "Wojech Ivo swears that you cast some sort of spell on him to lose the proving."

Jowan tries to find the warrior in the sea of dwarven faces, but the beards blend together. Bhelen grunts and his grip loosens but doesn't drop. "Spread fear, if it's easier than working magic. But I want to see what you're really capable of."

"Whenever you wish, Highness."

Bhelen stands - not that it makes any difference, it's not like he's any taller on his feet - and reaches for a cup to raise for a toast. The crowd silences immediately and turns toward him, waiting for his blessing like congregation at the chantry. Afterward when the music starts once more, Bhelen has Jowan brought to him again. "Stay until the end," he orders. "At the last dance I'll find you again and you'll tell me what you've learned. Don't mingle, but watch who you can. Maybe you can see more from your perspective."

Jowan murmurs that he will, of course he will, but Bhelen's attention is already elsewhere. He adds absently as Jowan is waved away, "You'll be spending the night with me, of course. So don't grow to attached to anyone."

Later, as dawn breaks outside, Jowan comes to Bhelen with his cache of secrets and spells and they walk in companionable silence to the royal chambers. He is surprised when Bhelen has the guards strip him - for the king's safety, they explain as their swords rip through his robes. He is surprised, but not much. Conversation progresses as normal, as if all Bhelen's discussions are done in the nude, until the guards are dismissed and Bhelen commands, not unkindly, for Jowan come to him. Even on his knees, Jowan is too tall, so Bhelen orders him to lie prostrate on the bed. By the time the guards return to announce that court will soon be in session, Jowan has solidified his place at Bhelen's side.

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a jar of jae

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