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fellheros · 6 years

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eritvita:

“Oh, come now, Garrett, where is thine sense of adventure?” Roland’s eyes shine for want of something pretty, of something valuable, and of something which couldst be sold to opened hands. Half-hidden by a greenbrush doth Roland clutch the iron bars that pertained of this golden treasure, old paintings gloan in original scripture, biblical writings fraught from the very age of the Holy War. Roland’s eyes narrow, and he looks up at those sharpened spikes as they art a Passage merely to be crossed.

“The grandest the first pilgrimage, the better thou art to hone. Come with me.” And with the spryness of an ape, of the squirrel, and of the scooting bird comest climb the treetops, Roland ascends the gate; making naught a sound, nary a twitch, nary a creak. He straddles the spaces betwixt the spades with an eagerness of a horse-rider, and twists and drops down on the other side.

In the gloam of the new morning, Roland is Goodfellow from his figure; dark, tall, broad-shouldered, firm and confident in his stride. ‘Tis a Gallery, and he shant miss a Gallery, nay!

It is not the foolishness of youth that urges Garrett over that fence, for he is no young man, eager to impress. His is a different breed of recklessness, borne from the irreverence of age and disillusionment, and a selfish, heathen desire for indulgence. Lawlessness is an old friend of his. He has sinned in the eyes of the Church for a righteous cause. He has stolen to give, killed to save. He has done worse, much worse; he has fallen down the well of his own convictions to scrape for muddied waters, when none purer could be found. He has done wrong, but always believing it to be for the best. This—? It is for nothing. No reason but personal pleasure. As he scales the fence and follows Roland, he feels no shame. His is a joyous nihilism.

Garrett has seen the workings of the world, the way law upheld order. It is no true Order, but a system, one set in motion to favor the wealthy, the powerful, and the hypocritically pious. He has little respect for laws that allow for oppression, starvation, and the unjust persecution of people— often for nothing more than the shape of their ears or the blood in their veins. And he has lived against the law his entire life, so he is hardly ashamed to be a criminal. At least he is an honest criminal.

Anyways, he cannot let Roland go alone. If he felt anxious about sneaking into the estate, he will feel moreso, letting Roland go by himself. Nevermind that he professed experience, and might be safer, and more successful, without Garrett as a tagalong. If there is trouble, Garrett wants to be there.

“As you say,” he remarks. With playful lilt and impish, narrowed eyes, he adds, “I am your humble student, bent to your wisdom, anxious for your instruction.”

Closer, but still at enough of a distance to take in the entirety of its Eastern face, Garrett considers the estate: they face the rear, with garden and stable between them and and the manse. It might be possible, he thinks, to enter and exit from the same point, and escape horseback— though that would make them terribly easy to track. We could release all the horses, and leave them without means to follow, he thought. He would whisper sweet words to a window lock and slip silently inside, but he says nothing, wondering what Roland will think of their options. He is the mentor, after all.

#eritvita #lmao somehow i replied to the wrong post !!#i had a tab open with my tag on your blog and must've reblogged on from there in stead hahaha

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fellheros · 6 years

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📚

meme: send 📚 for a drabble of an event from my muse’s past.

Kirkwall was a city of chaos. The markets were alive with goods from across the world, the docks a confusion of ships coming and going by the hundreds, and the streets a melding of many peoples from many cultures. It was condemned for its destitution and celebrated for its resplendence; praised for a righteous populace, and infamous for its criminal underground. Kirkwall was a city of conflict— but on that day, it was a city of cheer.

The Midsummer Festival had come. Once an ancient observance of the solstice, it was a time to celebrate life at its fullest, when everyone in the city came out to make merry under the blazing sun. The markets overflowed with flowers and food and bright–colored goods. Plazas filled with people performing; singers and storytellers and amateur minstrels. Average folk would strum a lute or start to dance and soon have a gaping, gleeful audience. Food was fresh and abundant, shared between friends and neighbors and strangers alike. Women dressed in light, flowing clothes and children ran naked through the streets. And all the while the air shimmered with the intense summer heat; ripples in a dreamlike vision of beauty and bliss.

Isabela was at home in the whirl of uproarious festivities, weaving effortlessly through the crowd as she led Anders through the winding streets. The woman shepherded him along, hanging from his arm, with one hand pressed firmly behind his shoulder blade, lest he need an encouraging shove.

She breathed in the many sounds and smells with a deep sigh. Floral perfumes mixed with the scents of sweat and smoke, burnt meats and sweet meads, until the air was thick and intoxicating. Delighter, she turned to Anders and flashed him a wily grin.

“Take a look around, sweetheart— this is what living looks like!” she exclaimed. Her eyes became shape and scintillating, and she inclined her head towards him, wicked red lips moving close to his ear. “You should try it sometime.”

She pulled away, holding him at arm’s length with a shrewd look, until something caught her amber eyes, and tore them away from her handsome companion.

“Now there’s a beautiful sight,” she said, turning Anders a little to the left so that he, too, could appreciate her view.

Past the trickling stream of people, in a small square at the end of the street, was a gathering of familiar faces. Not one or two, but several! The storyteller, sitting atop a barrel and serving up goblets of ale. Two surly swordsmen; one on either side of him. A slender maid in a short green gown, aflutter with nervous excitement.

Garrett was at the heart of the merry gang, standing before them all with arms swaying in a grand gesture, telling some story no doubt, and sloshing the contents of his cup in the process. Everyone was laughing. Varric slapped the side of the barrel, and Merrill brought her hands to her mouth to suppress a snicker. Fenris wore a faint smirk, which was about as close to laughter as the elf ever came. Carver laughed hardest of all, and the bright flush on his face betrayed his drunkenness. All of them were bedecked in crowns of daisies and dahlias, marigolds and sun blossoms.

Merrill was the first to see them. She hopped into the air like an excite hare, smiling and waving them over. Garrett turned to follow her gaze, his golden eyes sparkling with sunny enthusiasm at the sight of them.

“I almost didn’t recognize you without blood on you,” Anders quipped, a rare ringing of humor in his voice.

Garrett gave a toothy grin and an astonished hoot.

“Mmm,” he hummed, his laughter trailing of into soft chuckles. “Very clever—“ he teased, “but it was not so much a shock as mine, seeing you out in full daylight. How long have we been friends, and yet we’ve only met under cover of darkness? I was beginning to suspect you of vampyrism.” He took a step closer to Anders and leaned in, looking him over with cocked head and curious scrutiny. “You are quite fair…”

“If I was a vampire, you’d be taking an awful risk, coming to see me at night, covered in blood,” Anders replied with a smile of his own. “You’d best be careful. I don’t know how long my self control will remain.”

An amiable expression shattered Garrett’s act of seriousness, and he straightened, unable to keep his dry facade in the face of such ridiculous banter. It was not often he caught the mage in the mood for jokes, but when he was of a happy mind, the man had a singular sense of humor. It seemed Anders was not immune to the infectiousness of the festive atmosphere, and seeing him in such a state was impossible not to smile at.

Merrill appeared beside them, holding out a circlet of sunflowers and golden peonies, much like the one Garrett was wearing.

“Here, Anders,” she chirruped. “I made this one for you.”

She smiled kindly at the fellow mage, and fluttered off to bestow Isabela with flowers of her own. Anders stood there, staring down at his coronet of golds and creamy yellows, his fingers brushing gently at the petals. He often paused like this, looking mildly stunned, touching his calloused hands to a thing as if he were reaching from something which might not be real. It was a subtle, fleeting thing; but Garrett was a man of subtleties himself, and he noticed much.

“Allow me,” Garrett said.

The mage blinked his ambers eyes, their brightness returning as he glanced up at Garrett. Anders held still for him as he affixed the crown upon the man’s golden head. He adjusted it slightly until it sat at just the right angle, and tucked a strand of silky hair through the woven branches. Once he was certain the crown was secure, he stepped back, admiring the healer with a smile.

“I was wrong,” he said. “You look like a nymph.”

“A nymph?” Anders replied, laughing and cocking his head in an attempt to see the flowers on his own head.

“An overdressed nymph!” Isabela interjected. The pirate had settled herself beside the barrel, from where she could easily badger Varric for more blueberry ale. The dwarf was pouring her a glass, which she took and rose high above her head. “To Anders! and his decision to grace us with his presence on this grand day!”

Smiling, she extended her free hand to Varric, who filled it with a few silver coins. He had the distinctly disgruntled look of a man who had lost a bet, and offered a conciliatory shrug to Anders, who stared at them both with a look of bewildered affront.

“To Anders,” Garrett repeated, his lips a roguish smile at the rim of his glass.

Everyone took a swig of their ale, some more grimly than others. Isabela drained her mug entirely, gave an unladylike and utterly unashamed burp, and grinned at the lot of them.

“Now— onwards!” she declared.

#ic .#most of my interactions are with the da:o + da:i cast or ocs.#and i have hawke's kirkwall adventures + relationships with the companions all fleshed out.#it's the default history which i edit or discard when i thread during da2 or with da2 companion characters.#i've written extensively about that time in his life and it felt empty and undeveloped not to have stories about his time #with the companions. his relationships with them. etc.#so i did the thing.#and i had a 2+ year 30.000+ word thread where garrett and anders developed Feelings and it was a huge part of my developing his character so #a lot of events from that are a part of my history for him.#they don't stay together but they contributed to each others' growth over a period of years.#as friends and lovers tend to do.#also this was #the only happy topic i could think to drabble about lmao.#answered .#about .

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fellheros · 6 years

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🙋 + fiction novels - how does he feel about them, does he read them, etc!

meme: send 🙋 + any headcanons you want to know about my muse.

Books were a rare treasure. Leather-bound tomes were an expensive luxury, and far too heavy to carry in any great quantity for a family on the road. A charming child, and doubly sly, Garrett would supplicate the Chantry sisters for a peek at their books, or steal one when no one was around to see; but the tomes one found in temples were fictions of a different sort, or scholarly in nature. Sacred texts and histories, not heroic tales.

Storybooks, therefore, were in short supply; but storytelling was not. His father, Malcolm, was a brilliant teller of tales, always sharing songs and stories around the fire when they camped, or from horseback as they rode on through the night.

Garrett heard many folktales the way they were meant to be told: by melody and word of mouth. It was a lifetime ago, but he knows them still. Well enough to recite them, I reckon— though you’d have a hard time convincing him to sing.

The proper rendition of his favorite few were a frequent topic of debate between him and Varric. They were thrown out of the Hanged Man once during a loud and drunken argument over Princess Rhanera and her illicit Antivan lover; whether she was stolen by the legendary thief, or stole away to be with him of her own free will.

#corvidblade #about .#a cursed king. a prophecy. the forbidden love between his most precious daughter and the prince of thieves. a man who #rose from a penniless underdog to richest man in all the world. bit of a robin hood figure.#romance! adventure!#hawke's childhood favorite.#answered .

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fellheros · 6 years

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i’m pulling down one (1) bar in the woods somehow—! not enough to actually load online content ( rip dashboard ), but enough to post up what I write!

#maybe these are magick cellular strengthening trees #haha h a im jk y'all #it's so quiet out here #just coyotes and leaves in the wind and small creatures walking the woods at night #im at peace

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fellheros · 6 years

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⏳⏳

meme: send ⏳ for my muse to talk about their past

“ I learned from my father,” Garrett told. From the casualness of his tone, one would think it was the most natural thing, the way all mages learned magic— not the taboo it truly was.

“In the southern tundra there are still human tribes, independent from Ferelden and the Chantry, who have their own traditions when it comes to teaching magic. My grandmother was a shaman. Even before my father was born, she knew he would have the gift, so she started his training when he was a babe. He was her apprentice for sixteen years. Then he left— went to travel the country. He’d go from town to town, selling charms and fortunes. Trading herbal medicine for food.

“I must’ve heard a hundred stories about it. For every small town in Southern Ferelden, there was a family of someone he’d helped or healed who would put him up for the night. It sounds unbelievable— Southern suspicion runs deeply, you know— but you would understand, if you’d met him.”

Malcolm had always known just the thing to say to put a person at ease. He could have a tavern full of hardened townsfolk laughing at his jokes, or brimming with tears over a bittersweet tale. He could calm babes and sway animals. He could, in mother’s words, bring a woman to the brink of madness with his wicked tongue, then weasel his way out of trouble with that winning smile.

“Eventually the rumors caught up with him, though, and the templars arrested him for apostasy. He served in the Circle for a while as a healer and a court mage.

“Everything he learned, he passed on to my sister and I,” Garrett said, a small, nostalgic smile on his lips. “He was a good teacher. A good man.”

There was a wistful softness to his words; solemn, but not sorrowful. As much as Garrett missed his father, it was good to remember him this way. The man had been a talented mage, a loving father and a conscientious mentor. Malcolm had always given his best to the people who needed him. He never compromised. Maybe if he had not pushed himself so hard, he would have been with them longer; but then he would have been a different person.

#mooonborne #answered .#ic .#does this count as two—?#i may post another because i love these.#but for now! a thing.

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fellheros · 6 years

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#powers .

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fellheros · 6 years

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here’s this one without the old comparison

#❯ ‘ the night knows me by name – borne forth by terror my soul aflame ’ ❯❯ nightmare .#body horror –#queue .#flesh .

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fellheros · 6 years

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Enneagram 8: The Challenger

(Tumblr removed the original post, so here’s a revised version.)

Healthy Eights are intelligent, courageous champions of the downtrodden who love to achieve the impossible. They know how to identify and use power, and understand and embrace vulnerability. Their defining traits are not wanting to be controlled, and their personality is best summed up by “go big or go home!”

Eight Traits

Eights are fiercely independent and defiant of authority

Eights want others to challenge them back

Eights want the truth or nothing

Eights want control over their own life

Eights can over-indulge their senses

Eights radiate energy and enjoy confrontation

Eights struggle to embrace their soft underbelly

Eight’s antagonism can sabotage their relationships

Enneagram Wings, Strength & Growth

8w7: are energetic, enthusiastic, and outgoing (7 influence) but can also be ambitious, impulsive, and reckless. They are the most energetic and entrepreneurial wing, and more social and expressive than other Eights.

8w9: are approachable and open to cooperation (9 influence). They are often good mediators and successful negotiators, who tend to be less reactive and more able to console others than the other Eights.

Under stress: Eights withdraw from others and become disconnected from their emotions, suffer sleep problems and neglect their physical needs, become secretive and paranoid about others’ intentions and/or refuse to compromise (unhealthy 5 influences).

When feeling secure: embrace and no longer hide their gentler nature, have learned they do not need to be right all the time, listen to others’ views, permit others to care for them, and abandon vengeance (healthy 2 influence).

Advice for the 8: tell someone you trust to warn you when your behavior becomes excessive, and befriend your inner child; avoid black and white thinking and hold back from destroying people who cross you; remember how ‘big’ your personality is and don’t run people over with it. Instead of reacting in anger, ask yourself if you are avoiding another emotion. Let people in.

Influences on MBTI Types:

ISTJ: more aggressive and confrontational than other ISTJ Enneagram types, prone to being direct when others are not pulling their weight in common areas (work, school, etc), may develop too-rigid of black and white thinking, based on factual evidence and influenced by personal experiences (Si/Te/Fi, with inferior Ne lack of development / 8 blocking Ne’s natural desire to “open up to other possible interpretations”).

ESTJ: the 8 builds on the ESTJ’s natural desire to show competency and strong leadership in the outside world, and will shift the ESTJ into a strong patriarch / matriarch position over their family unit (Si “roles”). They will be aggressively protective of themselves and others “in their tribe,” while being intolerant / frustrated by family members who are not aggressive enough in being industrious or standing up for themselves (their expectations may be too high for their kids, which ties in to lower Fi development / the 8’s lack of being in touch with their sensitive side).

ISFJ: the 8’s influence on ISFJ would make them fiercely protective of their loved ones, as well as painfully obvious as to how they do not “fit in” with other SFJ types; Fe’s influence to fit in might conflict with their 8 desire to challenge authority, and make them less flexible in considering their moral absolutes (and how they feel others should be treated) could be wrong (inferior Ne resistance).

ESFJ: would use their Fe-dom to recruit others to common causes for the betterment of society, and show aggression when challenging anyone who abuses their position of power and against injustices; Si’s influence would make the 8 care more about immediate impact, rather than far-reaching influences, and their positions would be strongly-expressed but not always fully fleshed out on a systematic level (inferior Ti).

INTJ: a more aggressive and confrontational INTJ than others, who builds up and relies on their inferior Se when tackling the 8’s need for “indulgence” – may be more proactive in chasing what they want, in involving oneself in the external environment, in tackling challenges to prove they can do it, and in their sexual appetites. May not seek authority positions, but also will refuse to follow incompetent leadership, and be reckless under pressure.

ENTJ: the energetic visionary who fills the room, who suffers no fools, and who may have a problem with grinding the opposition into dust in their pursuit of fulfillment. The 8 would play heavily into tert-Se “desires” and make them a highly energetic, insatiable type prone to over-excess; the inferior Fi might, as in the ESTJ, make their expectations for family members / children / employees higher than what they are capable of (paired with Ni’s tendency toward grand-scale expectations), while the 8 would play off Ni-perceptions in contributing to a black and white worldview.

INFJ: 8 would make this INFJ someone not content to just dream, but to build; it would create much more reliance on, and indulgence of, inferior Se needs, and run the risk of over-indulgences in dangerous ways (not knowing when to stop, how much their body can handle, or whether that might get them hurt). Since their Fe is secondary to Ni, their vision comes before the people involved, and the INFJ might develop a caustic attitude to anyone with less ambition and/or who challenges their black and white thinking. Likely to loop Ni/Ti in shredding other people’s arguments, and may not develop aux-Fe properly, out of fear of vulnerability.

ENFJ: an aggressive, charming combination who sees social wrongs and challenges them head-on, without fear, prone to over-indulgences of excess through tert-Se, who has a vision for a group of people, and leads them through competency, bombastic speaking skills, and sheer presence; Fe-dom would both soften the 8’s bluntness and aim it squarely at those the ENFJ feels are responsible for the current abuses. Inferior Ti issues would come from a lack of ability to self-analyze, or sense when their FeNi conclusions are too rigid. (See: Martin Luther King Jr.)

ESTP: an aggressive, physically imposing, confrontational, argumentative combination, who does not believe in backing away from a fight, literal or figurative, whose lower Ni development helps him/her spot people who are weak or incompetent; prone to not mincing words, challenging authority figures, and often undertakes leadership to appease the public’s general welfare (tert-Fe, which can often make the ESTP-8 “charming” and offset the tough edge). (See: Winston Churchill.)

ISTP: inferior Fe would make this ISTP even more out of touch with how people perceive them and how to soften the blow than other ISTP Enneagram combinations; they would see no reason for social appropriateness and instead, channel their intense energy into external projects. Often sharp-tongued and unable or unwilling to let faulty thinking go unchallenged. Has absolute faith in their Ti/Ni insights, may run the risk of a lack of nuance or in understanding emotional motivators, and have little respect for irrational or sensitive people.

ESFP: develops a strong tert-Te in order to achieve things in the outside world, is often confident, self-assertive, and prone to easy boredom; likes to seek out constant challenges at work / school / their personal life, and may create drama where there is none to self-entertain; values a few people very much (especially if they identify with them through Fi) and will champion them with total conviction. Quick to react, may dislike or hide their own emotions / suppress them, or learn to loop to avoid them, and often out of touch with the long-term consequences of their blow-up.

ISFP: a very physical introvert, whose hatred of authority plays off their Fi into total defiance, refusal to go along with anything they do not believe is right, etc. Often shapes itself into not wanting anyone else to be controlled or oppressed either, which can lead into aggressive behaviors directed toward those they see as immoral, cruel, incompetent, or bullies. Since Fi/Ni has such close associations, they often lack nuance in their thinking and are prone to black and white moral absolutes. (See: Arya Stark in Game of Thrones.)

ENTP: Ne shapes the 8 into the realm of the abstract, where they become combative and confrontational when it comes to ideas, defending them, and standing on rational ground; often innovative and successful if they can harness their power toward finishing a project rather than abandoning it; tert-Fe lends them a charm that helps soften the brutal aggression, but also keeps them out of touch with their emotions in combination with the 8’s desire to seem “tough”; often scorns “weak,” or “emotional” types and individuals; often pursues sensory pleasures more than the other Ne-dom types and over-indulges due to lack of Si inner body awareness.

INTP: the coworker who calls out the boss and/or coworkers on their utter stupidity and incompetence, rather than keep their mouth shut, but who does not much care to lead; the 8 will wreak havoc with tert-Si, in making them sensory-indulgent; like the ISTP-8, out of touch with how others perceive them, or in respecting others’ emotional cores and needs; often totally sure they are right, even if their theory is half baked (Ne’s tendency to ‘share’ before it gathers all the Si-details).

ENFP: has much more aggression than the other ENFPs, whose Ne/Fi makes them conflict-avoiding; will deliberately challenge people and use Ne/Te to rip holes in their arguments and/or underline more successful tactics; develops Te to prove competent in the outside world, may resist and /or avoid Fi development and as a result, be out of touch with their true desires and gentler self; like the ENTP, prone to aiming their energy into the abstract, and in aggressively defending, promoting, and actualizing new ideas. May try to dampen their natural open-mindedness, and develop rigid moral views as a result (indecisiveness is weakness!).

INFP: a defensive INFP who fights authority figures at every turn and battles their own indecisive nature, seeing their tendency to want to change their mind as weakness in themselves; has way more energy than is usual for the INFP type, and may not know when to slow down, prone to falling into inferior Te a lot in an attempt to prove themselves strong (but more often, inferior Te comes into play in harsh criticisms of general incompetency).

- ENFP Mod

#personality types .#about .#good descriptions of 8s.#garrett is 8 tho i forgot his wing.#intj.

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