#ocs conclave
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WE DID IT!!!
WE DID IT!!!
WE DID IT!!!
#warrior nun#save warrior nun#avatrice#warrior nun zine#ava x beatrice#warrior nun wednesday#ocs conclave#alba baptista#warrior nun bts#kristina tonteri young#empire magazine#good omens#wednesday#netflix xo kitty#netflix#yellowjackets#wynonna earp#earpers#firefly#stargate#star trek
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a new dnd oc for a one-shot, a triton ranger named murtagh (merr-tuh) riftwarren with a baikal seal companion!
he's 4'11" which makes him my shortest (played) oc yet
#dungeons and dragons#dnd#d&d#triton#ranger#beast master conclave#dnd oc art#drawerings#ocs#murtagh riftwarren#exandria
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Dungeons & Inkwells 6: Tiefling ranger
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Valyhra and Leliana are fwpv (friends with prophetic visions).
and yes they have gay sex also
#ruby's ocs#valyhra lavellan#dragon age#leliana#yes her back story is that she attended the conclave because a vision of mythal told her to
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i’m debating doing a no romance da:i playthrough this time…ernest trevelyan’s era of losing his whole family at the conclave getting a new one and then losing them too
#dragon age#oc#i think about the trevelyan origin and the fact that their family died at the conclave and i need to lay down#the first time i romanced bull and I adore him#don’t get me wrong#but also dorian and bull are so good#idk i’m still thinking about it 🚶♀️#dragon age: inquisition
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guess what I started playing again….his name’s Goldwyn
#dragon age inquisition#trevelyan#Goldwyn trevelyan#my oc#finding dai mods was harder now that it’s been 10 gd years lol#goldwyn’s the oldest but he’s a bastard so he’s a bodyguard for his siblings#who uh….died at the conclave so…..yeah Oop#rip bann trev has a choice to make lol
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Trying to play DAI but I am stuck listening to the bard songs in the tavern.
#they did good with the music ngl#songs add so much to the worldbuilding#adding some of these to hamal’s playlist 👀#also thinking that var’myathan would’ve absolutely had people in the conclave#and they would immediately sent people to back up nel#but down that path lies chaos and a new dalish advisor oc…
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Banuk OCs, you say? 👀👀👀 Just from their descriptions, they sound fun, so consider me interested! Since I don't know much about them, how about 💯🐶🐷💘 and 🖤 for whoever you want?
Hey! Thanks for the ask! My main OC is Kalingit, a Banuk shaman from the Cut.
(TW, death stuff because life in HZD world conditions isn't so great.)
💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know
Shortly after her parents died during the beginning of the Derangement, she became an apprentice of Kamut (the shaman outside of Song's Edge by the dye pools; he's the one gives Aloy the side quest "A Secret Shared" to improve her spear with the rail from the drone hangar)
She has an unrequited crush on the artist Sekuli. She likes to say it's in the past and that she has given up on romance and earthly things, but whenever Sekuli visits the dye pools for pigments, Kalingit still has to remember to breathe.
Growing up in near-polar conditions, she never encountered many reptiles. She's killed a Fireclaw, nearly drowned in a half-frozen lake thrice, and climbed the Shaman's Path all by herself, but the lizards in the Daunt. Freak. Her. OUT. (I happen to think they're cute, but I digress) Of course, she would never, ever admit this.
🐶 DOG FACE — does your oc have any pets?
No, unfortunately, she doesn't have any pets. Life's hard enough in Banuk lands, so she finds it easier to not get attached to anything nor anyone. Once as a young girl, she found an orphaned rabbit kit and nursed it back to health. But, the following winter was particularly harsh and food was scarce... So, yeahhh... She likes to think she's easy-going and doesn't hold grudges, but in truth, she hasn't quite forgiven Kamut for it.
Now, will I give her a pet later during the fic? ...I haven't decided yet.
🐷 PIG FACE — what is your oc's favorite animal?
She is fond of most animals, but she is intrigued by foxes. Once as a kid, she tried to hug one. While the luminant blue cables threaded into her skin cover up the consequential scars on her arm and chest, they don't quite reach the big one on her jaw.
💘 HEART WITH ARROW — what and/or who do(es) your oc consider the most important to them?
Once upon a time, it was her childhood friend and mate, Sanak, and their only surviving child, Siku. After Sanak and Siku's passing, knowledge became most important. Why are the machine spirits angry? How does the Blue Light work? As she got older, it became seeking connection between that knowledge and the Banuk people in general. What does it mean to truly prevail? How can things be improved for the Banuk as a whole? How can what happened to her family (and those of most Banuk) be avoided in the future? How can the mistakes of the Old Ones, as told by CYAN, be avoided? It's that connection and the love for her fellow Banuk that push her to make the choices she makes now.
🖤 BLACK HEART — has your oc killed or seriously wounded anyone before? have they broken someone's heart and/or broken someone's trust?
Yes. During the Red Raids, she and other Banuk defended their villages and territories against the Carja invaders. Inevitably, Carja soldiers (and one or two bandits) have died under her spear. She also participated in the exile of at least two members of her werak. Only one returned alive.
As for breaking someone's trust, going along with Kamut, Tikuk, and Siluk's idea of seeking an alliance with outlanders would count as betrayal to some of the more traditional Banuk. While her old chieftain and others went along with the plan, those of Ban-Ur and even some in Aratak's werak (e.g, Ruatuk) were against it. They consider it a betrayal of Banuk values. In Kalingit's mind, one cannot prevail if one doesn't first survive. Now that she presides over the Banuk delegation as a representative shaman, this is a constant point of contention between her and her representative chieftain, Ruatuk.
#oc asks#oc stuff#kalingit#one day i will draw her#but that day is not today#ruatuk is the name of aratak's runner#as in the one that isn't signutai#and the one who told aloy#FIRECLAWS. YOUR VICTORY IS INVALID.#tikuk and siluk are the shamans you meet at that village with the peaceful machines. the same place you meet aluki#they and kamut hate the conclave so much#hey if nothing ever got accomplished I would hate it too
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Ramblings for Qiumibu #8
Link to Part 7
Link to Part 9
I realised that I didn’t talk about the Sooted Conclave in the previous Part of this series. Then I shall dedicate this part for the group.
So, the Sooted Conclave. The Black to the White in a game of chess. The ones who oppose the Brightened Few, but also against the other factions found on Qiumibu that gets in their way of clashing against the Brightened Few.
Unfortunately, as visible from the previous post, I don’t have much for this faction written out. I only have the leader, who is this cool mysterious concealed figure who’s only visible part is their hand, which they use to gesture and give commands to their underlings.
They should be easy to draw. Alas, I talk more than I draw, so guess what happens next. There’s no drawing! Again. Which infuriates me as much as it probably does to you, since these ideas are best talked about if there was some drawing to accompany them.
But the lack of a drawing also highlights how little I have prepared for the Sooted Conclave, as I don’t really work on Qiumibu all day long. I only come by when the motivation strikes. When the motivation doesn’t strike (like right now, I’ve tried to write a long story piece for one of my characters but that didn’t make it past Chapter 1), I hit this slump where I just… do little drawings that are quick to complete. I can’t even show them for this series, as they’re not Qiumibu related.
Does this leader figure for the Sooted Conclave have a title? I called them the “King of the Obsidian Throne”, just so that they are the opposite of the Heir to the Alabaster Throne (which is the main reason why the Sooted Conclave exist.). I hadn’t even written down their motive for causing trouble across Qiumibu, but they are easier to cooperate with should they ever encounter the Restless.
At least the King has a guard, much like the Ivory Chaperone to the Heir to the Alabaster Throne. And just like how the King’s title is the opposite to the Heir’s title, their guard is called the Ebon Escort. The only significant feature of this guard is that they ride a shadowy fish across the land, splashing shadows and casting spears upon their foes.
If you want a good idea of how this guard looks, please refer to this video for how they may look if I ever get around to draw.
Initially, I didn’t think of working on these guys for the setting. It was just the Heir to the Alabaster Throne, until a few months later when I thought “it couldn’t hurt to add another faction just to complicate the setting and establish some sort of politics, right?”
I think I’ll stop here for these guys. There isn’t much for these guys. Even their city (located between Ailude and Urtain, so they prove to be a nuisance for them) is the same with the desaturation effects.
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lahlas is the oldest of my lavellans so they discover their magic the earliest, but they decide to keep it hidden because they don't want any of the responsibility that comes from being the keeper's first. however they also change their hair color overnight and everyone in the clan is like "???? hey da'len what happened ????" and of course they say that they have no idea. so keeper deshanna puts them through some magical tests and naturally they fail all on purpose. eventually everyone has to shrug it off as only an early sign, but lahlas keeps learning on their own in secret until ellas accidentally electrocutes himself and then they're suddenly like "oh yeah, i'm a mage too haha"
#in my head all of my lavellans exist simultaneously so they share a childhood in the same clan#but depending on a certain chain of events only one of them goes to the conclave#oc ramblings#lahlas lavellan
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playin thru dragon aggy inquisition and loving my travelyan
#dai oc#the inquisitor#female travelyan#celyn travelyan#oc#my art#her mage bf died during the conclave and now shes left sad and pregnant lol#shes becoming more fierce as time passes though#at first she wanted peace but now she is going to set things right by force#for her baby and for everyone lost to coryoheus#i love her so much im rotating her in my head
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David Hayter talking about how Beatrice needed to be given the chance to fall in love properly! Gosh the Warrior Nun writers knew what they were doing!
Shared during the OCS Conclave!
More video clips and interviews to come!
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Hello! For DADWC, what about A9 from the DA-inspired dialogue list, which is "“I ruined your life.” “You’ve ruined nothing. You are my life.”" for whichever characters inspire you.
Boy uhhh was I inspired. A little OC x OC incredibly angsty action pre-conclave. This prompt got a little out of hand lol
wc: 1010
@dadrunkwriting
tw: mentions of abuse (templar inflicted)
Day in and day out, night after night, the rebel templars never stopped moving. Weston wondered if they ever tired as he was dragged from camp to camp in the frigid, god-forsaken place called Ferelden.
Less than a week into reaching the region from the Free Marches, he and Connor had been ambushed by a group of the defecting knights. Weston had pleaded with the templars for their lives. Connor—a tranquil, a mage, impersonating a knight, lying about his identity—and himself for harboring his former knight-captain.
Eventually, they struck a deal. Their lives for servitude. The rebels were small in number, constantly involved in skirmishes with bandits and apostates alike, and simply didn’t have the bodies to run and defend a camp.
Weston did manual labor, mostly. Pitching tents, cooking, moving supplies, and the like. He wasn’t pleased, but it was far better than death. They still gave him lyrium. Not enough, never enough, but just enough to keep him from going mad.
The true deal they had made though, was for Connor. He was well trained in fighting apostates, imposing, strong, seemingly unaffected by fatigue and emotional turmoil… the perfect soldier. As long as Connor fought, Weston would live.
That was the deal they had made.
Weston only ever caught glimpses of his former knight-captain. Connor was constantly accompanied by other templars, armed to the teeth with phylacteries and staves from the apostates he killed. They exchanged glances when they could… Or Weston did at least. Connor always stared back with those cold, emotionless eyes.
It was a fateful night that they had a moment together, far after the camp had settled into the closest thing to what they might consider peaceful slumber. Weston had been wearily shuffling supplies from one crate into another when he heard armored footsteps slowly approaching.
The younger man would have moved to defend himself, had the circumstances been different, but instead he braced himself, tensing his shoulders and trying to subtly move his hands to protect his face. Usually, an approaching templar meant getting beat, whipped, or worse, and trying to stop it only ended in more severe punishment.
He was startled when there was a gentle touch on his shoulder, and he turned to face Connor’s familiar stormy grey eyes. He wanted to cry with relief—bury himself in Connor’s arms and tell him to run, to take them as far away from this place as he could—but instead, he took a deep breath and pushed the wishful thinking from his mind.
“You shouldn’t be seen with me,” Weston whispered, his voice weak with emotion and exhaustion. Connor simply looked at him with his unfeeling gaze.
“I thought you would prefer the company, but I can leave, if you wish.”
“No!” Weston cried, grabbing out for Connor and finding purchase on his tabard. Weston clutched at the fabric like a child. “No,” he repeated, lowering his voice again and looking around frantically for anyone who might have heard his outburst. “No, don’t leave me.”
Connor glanced down at him and made an effort at a hug. It was stiff and awkward, but Weston was glad for any contact, melting into the embrace. A sob tore from his lungs as he buried himself in Connor’s arms, trying to hold him as close as he possibly could while they had the chance.
“I apologize for the distress this situation has caused you,” the larger man remarked as Weston pulled them both behind the storage crates he had been unloading. “It was the only reasonable way to avoid more unnecessary deaths.”
Weston’s expression grew hard.
“You know that’s bullshit,” he growled. “You say that, but they make you hunt mages constantly. How long until they start having you kill innocent people?”
Connor tilted his head.
“They have Evelyn’s phylactery.”
Any words forming on Weston’s tongue died in his mouth. He turned and spat on the ground before turning back.
“You should have left while you could, Connor. They’re using you, you know. You don’t have to do this for me. You shouldn’t have to kill your own family for me.” Weston turned away. He could feel the tears beginning to spill and tried to force them to stop. “You shouldn’t have to do any of this. Not for me. Not for anyone.”
“You are suffering. I did not mean to lead us to this,” Connor replied.
“Don’t apologize,” came the whispered response as Weston shook his head. He looked back into Connor’s eyes, searching for something, anything. “I would follow you into hell if you asked.”
Connor’s expression shifted slightly—or maybe it was Weston’s delirious imagination.
“I do not want you to die.”
There was a moment of silence between them, and the sounds of movement from the far side of camp.
“I leave again in the morning,” Connor stated. “I should go.”
He began turning when Weston reached out again, throwing himself into Connor despite his exhaustion and his body's protests. He took the larger man’s face in both his hands and surged upwards into a kiss. Connor didn’t pull away and he didn’t quite return it either, but Weston didn’t care. This is what would get him though the next round of lashes, through the next week of beatings, though the rest of his damned miserable life until he found a way to get himself and Connor out of there.
Connor tasted like smoke and dust and lyrium, and Weston relished every last lingering bit of him. The sounds of armor grew closer and Connor pulled away at last.
“Do not die,” he said simply before leaving to resume his patrol.
Weston watched him go, trying to dry his tears before anyone saw him.
“Yes, Knight-Captain,” he breathed. “I won’t.”
#connor trevelyan#dadwc#angst#gratuitous angst#oc x oc#templar abuse#templars suck#pre conclave nonsense#spoilers: weston dies#my writing#weston farley
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And I’ll always be there to wipe the mess from your face.
#dragon age oc#dragon age inquisition#my art#comic#seeing how grief turns into dedication in real time in Haven post conclave
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I am de-inquisitor-ing Taliesin and putting his twin sister Branwen in his place I think, shifting Tali to inquisition companion mode
#makes more sense for him plus new backstory unlocked for the two of them#city elves who ran away at age 9 to find the dalish when ceinwen's magic started to show#so he'd been super protective of her for a long time and then conclave mess happens and he's like 'yikes hard to protect you from all this!'#whether she's needed protection since she was 9 though is up for debate and squabble between the two of them#anyway when in doubt about character backstory add a sibling and it all starts coming together#Taliesin Lavellan#Branwen Lavellan#(tah-lee-eh-sin with emphasis oh the lee & bran-when with a long 'a' and a rolled 'r')#da oc chatter#< think i should start a tag
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happy friday Mel!!! for dadwc, “I accidentally punched a Templar. A few times. At least ten.” with Quinn + any character(s) of your choice?💜💜
This prompt made me laugh when I saw it, as I knew immediately it almost didn't matter who the other character was - Quinn was absolutely the sort of fool who would punch a templar with all their sharp pokey armour. Which then made me realize the other character should probably be his templar brother. So here we are! I never expected I'd write more Trevelyan brother interactions before the Conclave explosion but the prompt called for more antics!
You Should See The Other Guy for @dadrunkwriting
After a long day of standing at his post in the cold, Aloysius wants nothing more than to sit for a while by a warm fire with a bowl of hot stew and maybe a mug of ale - even if what the little tavern serves down the mountain in Haven is little more than watery piss ale. He hasn’t had a decent meal in ages, not since he left Wycombe but at least the food here is typically hot.
But when he approaches the tavern, there’s a larger crowd than usual outside. Scuffles and fights are not unusual between any number of templars and any number of mages with tensions being what they are. The clerics and sisters try to keep the peace along with a number of Chantry-sanctioned mercenaries, but Aloysius is of the opinion that they do a rather poor job of it. That the majority of mages find it wise to keep to themselves does more good than any mediator could hope to do.
There are no mages present, however, which means this is likely just an alcohol fueled argument between any number of blowhards that got a little out of hand. And sure enough, a couple of Chantry soldiers appear in the doorway hauling one such blowhard out of the tavern. At least it’s over, he tells himself, which means he can still get himself dinner.
As he passes the pair who are half-carrying, half-struggling to restrain their angry friend, one of them notices and shouts in his direction.
“Oi! You’re one of them Trevelyans, aren’t you? This prick is one of yours!”
Aloysius sighs. There are plenty of distant relations all over the place. And yet, he feels like he can guess who the troublemaker is before he gets a good look at him. Not that he needs to. He knows only his brother could be at the center of a bar fight anywhere in the world even before they’re dropping the heavily inebriated fool at his feet.
When Aloysius gives no indication of helping him to his feet, Quinn pricks himself up, patting dirt and snow off the front of his quilted gambeson. He is a mess, though Aloysius has rarely seen him when he is not, but this time Quinn’s right cheek looks rather swollen and when he spits into the snow there is blood.
“Did they knock your teeth out?”
Quinn pauses for a moment before baring his teeth in a very red and bloody grin. “I don’t know, did they?”
“Not this time, at least.”
“There won’t be a next time,” Quinn says, looking angrily over his shoulder towards the tavern. “Won’t play cards with your lot again. Not until they learn how to lose.”
Aloysius sighs again. He finds he does it a lot whenever his brother is around. “You got caught cheating at cards again?”
Quinn straightens up, puffing out his chest and looking haughtily up at him. He is trying to look intimidating, but no matter how hard he tries, Aloysius will always be several inches taller. He’s sure that irritates him almost as much as being called a cheat.
“Just because I’m very good doesn’t mean I cheat. In fact, that’s the problem, isn’t it? Haul me out here, saying I’m trouble… just because when they refused to pay up, I told them to fucking dare.”
“What a fine use of your words. I can’t imagine why they were so upset.”
Quinn does not seem to pick up on the sarcasm as he fishes around in his mouth for a moment before wiping at his bloody lip. “No, they were upset because I accidentally punched one of them.”
“Accidentally.”
“Once… twice… ten times, maybe.”
Aloysius curses quietly to himself which is not something he does often. But Quinn tends to have that sort of effect on people. And as he grabs his brother by the collar to haul him off to a trough and sober him up, Aloysius is very much of the opinion that this Conclave cannot end soon enough.
#da drunk writing circle#dadwc#dragon age#dragon age inquisition#pre-conclave fic#oc: quinn trevelyan#oc: aloysius trevelyan#melis writes stuff
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