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General Cauthrien Headcanon
Cauthrien and the Civil War
Cauthrien and Appearance in Origins
Recent college graduate (in anthropology) writer, weaver, baker, Dragon Age fan, Dishonored lover, video game nerd. There's fic over at Ao3 under the same name. I live in Portland with my awesome boyfriend.
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“As author, I feel the crudeness of my style may be a little offensive to some, but hope my desire to afford general pleasure will excuse my defects.”
— The anonymous author of Lady Pokingham; or They All Do It: Giving an Account of her Luxurious Adventures, both before and after her Marriage with Lord Crim-Con, as published in the first issue of The Pearl in 1879.
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I take drabble requests! Just drop characters, a pairing, a situation into my Ask box. I'm best with Dragon Age prompts, but can also do Last Exile and some Digital Devil Saga, plus a few other bits and bobs.
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Things sometimes get smutty. I try to remember nsfw tags, but I don't always manage it, especially on drabble request posts.
Question with 1 note
hobovampire asked: I'm sorry I've been terrible. DX BUT YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED??!?!!
OH no
at least not like, in the immediate future
David and I talk about it sometimes, though, and I just plot visibly. that’s all.
BUT NO I AM NOT ENGAGED
Question with 1 note
hobovampire asked: I blame you for this intense love of Crowley. I just /I love him so much/
Photo reblogged from serindrana with 3 notes
HOBOVAMPIRE, OUR FRIENDSHIP SHALL PIERCE THE AGES.
OR SOMETHING.\o/
ZIM THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME OF THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER DRAWN
hobovampire replied to your post: in other news, waiting for the happy day when I…
THEY’RE MAKING AND FES FOR PS3?!?!?!!? :spasms because OF A MIGHTY NEED:
IT’S ALREADY OUT
I don’t think they updated the graphics or anything, or added the fem protag from P3P, but you can definitely get FES for like… I think $10? on the PSN. WHICH IS GREAT BECAUSE MY PS2 DIED AND I CAN’T AFFORD ANOTHER ONE. not that I can afford the new FES either, but it’s at least more reasonable.
Link with 11 notes
Scattered Coin :: P is for Physician [Athenril ABCs] →
[Not off hiatus yet, but this is especially for Hobovampire! Much love.
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P is for Physician
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“You back in town for good this time, Athenril?” Tomwise asks, trying not to look nervous behind his table full of wares. He’s getting better at it, she thinks - or maybe she’s just been away long enough that she’s lost all point of reference.
It’s only been a year and a half. Maybe closer to two.
She leans her hip against the pitted and scarred wood. “Business been hurting without me, Tomwise?”
“Of course it has.” The nervousness is falling away, replaced by a sort of weariness she knows all too well. It was what drove her out of Kirkwall for a little. That and a few unwelcome run-ins with another operation. Word is that the Coterie’s crushed them. Too ambitious.
And so she’s back.
Hilgrud (twelve and counting now, lanky and quick and well-travelled from following Athenril around Nevarra) signals from the shadowed intersection. All clear, then - she has time.
“And here I thought Hawke would be helping you make an honest living,” she says, lazily picking through the vials he has set out.”
Tomwise snorts. “Honest. You know, Hawke’s butting heads with the oxmen these days. So there’s a chance of some coin there, I suppose. Not like your business, though.”
“Well, you’re in luck. I’m settling back in, if all works out. Rebuilding.”
“Good for you.” Tomwise flicks at her hand when she touches a rather exquisite piece - Mythal’s Favor, if she knows Tomwise and she knows the cast of the liquid inside.
“Expanding a bit?” she asks, snagging the neck of the bottle all the same. It’s fluted, pre-scored in the dips for easy breaking. “Didn’t know you were edging into Elegant’s territory.”
“It’s not Elegant’s territory,” he says, snatching it back and setting it down with a notable thump. “She doesn’t like working with the ingredients. I don’t mind. My lungs are going to turn black and fall out from chokedamp in another five years, anyway. What do I care?”
“Martyr,” she snorts.
“Businessman.” He catches her gaze. There’s a boldness there that she had only caught glimpses of before. Has he changed so much?
Has she?
“Healer Tomwise,” she says, and he shakes his head.
“What do you need, Athenril? Are you here to actually set up a contract, put an order in? Or is this just a social call?”
She doesn’t make social calls, and she’s about to tell him just that until she realizes she has no other reason. She’s checking in. It’s been almost two years.
So she clears her throat instead and pushes off of the table, crossing her arms over her chest. “Wanted to make sure you were alive. Seeing what my options are. You know how it goes.”
“Right.”
At the intersection, Hilgrud shifts, shoulders tensing. Athenril uncurls, ready to run. But she needs a reason to have been here, a way to guard against untoward questions about sentimentality. And she lands on one, blurting out before she can think it through,
“Have you heard anything about Bethany?”
Tomwise at first doesn’t respond, then shakes his head. He hasn’t noticed or doesn’t care about the tension sliding through her limbs and coming out into her stance. “Bethany- Hawke’s sister?” he asks. “She ended up in the Gallows, didn’t she?”
She nods, then darts her eyes back to where Hilgrud has turned towards her. Coterie. Not the meeting she wants just yet. Soon, but not yet.
“Yeah. After that,” she says, turning back to Tomwise and canting her head to one side. He notes it. “Have you heard anything since?”
His reply this time is quicker. “If she owes you money, just forget about it.”
“That’s not… no. She doesn’t. I’m just- concerned.” And out of time. Flustered, frustrated, and out of time. “If you hear anything- and my usual order, with a sampler of your new stuff. I’ll be back.” Hilgrud has slipped away out of sight, getting herself somewhere safe, and it’s time for Athenril to do the same. No cloying bombs, no poison, no irons. Clean escape.
Tomwise nods. “I’ll hold it for you for two weeks,” he says.
“Got it.”
And she’s gone.
Photoset reblogged from A Fiddle of Gold Against Your Soul... with 12 notes
From Sebastian to Fenris. <33
(by Serindrana!! <3)
You’re welcome, darling! It was fun to write. :D
hobovampire replied to your post: DILEMMA
WHAT IS THIS GAME WHERE CAN I PROCURE IT
People figured out how over here!
Post with 9 notes
hobovampire replied to your photo: And then I found this on my photobucket and lolled…
YOU ARE SO CUTE AND YOU HAVE THE BEST CLOTHES. Let me love your face.
fff all my cobbled together steampunk outfits. KFHAFHAL
But at least I can also look like a Real Fereldan Girl, right?
hobovampire replied to your post: HNGH HNGH HNGH
I FINISHED MY RESEARCH I DID IT
WE ARE WINNERS. \o/
Link reblogged from A Fiddle of Gold Against Your Soul... with 24 notes
serindrana: Practice [Sebastian/Fenris] →
[I HAPPEN TO KNOW THAT SOMEBODY WANTED SEBRIS.]
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Sebastian hisses as the cool paint touches his skin, fingers jerking and tapping against the equally chill floor of the mansion beneath his back. He regrets stripping to the waist in that moment. The stone has warmed some from his skin,…
DOodle for this lovely. ; u;
I love Sebrisssss
OH MY GOD.
THE BEST.
Source: serindrana
Post with 24 notes
Practice [Sebastian/Fenris]
[I HAPPEN TO KNOW THAT SOMEBODY WANTED SEBRIS.]
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Sebastian hisses as the cool paint touches his skin, fingers jerking and tapping against the equally chill floor of the mansion beneath his back. He regrets stripping to the waist in that moment. The stone has warmed some from his skin, but with the addition of the brush along the line of his collarbone, he can feel every point where the heat has not yet penetrated.
“Do not move,” Fenris says, kneeling beside him and staring with furrowed brow at the path of the brow. His touch is light, slow, determined.
Sebastian reminds himself firmly that this was his suggestion, even if the form it is taking was unintended. Fenris needs to practice his letters; what better way than to write out the Chant?
And what better canvas than one of the few tangible things that Fenris focuses on? His blade was too small, wine bottles too round as well. Freedom cannot be painted on, nor can vengeance. His shackles, though Sebastian knows he still carries them in spirit if not in fact, are out of reach of curious fingers.
So instead, Sebastian allows his body to be used as a canvas.
Fenris’s lips move and for a moment, Sebastian is uncertain as to what he is breathing. But the breaths turn to whispers and he makes out,
“Those who had sought to claim
Heaven by violence destroyed it. What was
Golden and pure turned black.
Thsoe who had once been mage-lords,
The brightest of their age,
Were no longer men, but monsters.”
Threnodies, Sebastian thinks with a barely restrained laugh. It is an appropriate choice for the task, at least; it was only after returning from the Vimmarks that Fenris asked Sebastian for lessons in the Chant as well as in his letters, and he had asked, specifically, to start with the tale of the magisters and their transgressions. And now it had led to this - offering up his skin as paper.
A part of him wishes that Fenris was not inscribing him with words about magisters, but the rest just shivers and relaxes as the brush glides on.
Skill [Cauth + Fenris]
[For hobovampire! She requested some Cauthrien and Fenris~ Bb, you have some Sebris on the way, too, but prob not tonight. <3]
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The elf’s shoulder connected hard with the bottom of her ribcage. The force of it sent her staggering back, bending nearly double, fighting to keep a hold on her wooden practice sword. He shouldn’t have been able to bring that much strength to bear, not with how small he was, how quick instead of forceful.
She chalked it up at first to the brands tracing spirals over his skin.
When he did it again, kicking her down despite the fact that he wore no shoes and she was covered in dense padding, she blamed it on being trained by a Tevinter magister. There were magics there that she had no concept of; they had shaped him.
And when finally he managed to disarm her and bore her to the ground, panting, his jaw set and brow furrowed, she admitted to herself that maybe, just maybe, he knew what he was doing.
Photo reblogged from A Fiddle of Gold Against Your Soul... with 3 notes
HOBOVAMPIRE, OUR FRIENDSHIP SHALL PIERCE THE AGES.
OR SOMETHING.\o/
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF AAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEE!!! <333333333333333333
I’m sorry I didn’t see ealier. ; u; <33
AWWWWWWWWWWWWWE. <33333333333333
lovelovelvoelvoe!
WE SHALL TAKE OUR SWORDS AND OUR EPICNESS AND OUR BROMANCE AND…
DO
SOMETHING
AMAZING
Source: serindrana
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