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AHHHHH 8D

Sat Oct 25, 2014, 5:35 PM


IT CAMMMMME. MY 100DoN BOOK I IS HERRREEEEE. Along with all the other awesomes. LOOOOOOKKK
048 by FyreQueen89  051 by FyreQueen89  050 by FyreQueen89 It was a really hard/busy day at work and this was SUCH a nice surprise to find waiting for me when I got home. Girls, it looks amazing. I can hardly wait to get Book II. :eager:

And while I'm mentioning sweet art, I have to show these off as well. 052 by FyreQueen89 Sketch commissions from Blueberry-me She posted them in her gallery, but I just want to show off the physical sketches too ;P Her art is gorgeous, and she's still offering commissions  COMMISSIONS! HELP ME OUT!I NEED THE MONEY FOR A NEW COMPUTER BECAUSE MY LAPTOP IS NUTS and I can't use the adobe programs without them crashing or my laptop turning itself off without any notice. I need those programs (photoshop and indesign, mostly) like the blood in my veins if I want to work. Therefore I need  to get a new computer that can run the programs.
So, consider commissioning me some stuff, please? Help me out, guys! I've been saving money like crazy for months but I'm still poor ;A;
What I have to offer is under the pretty line:

SKETCHES:
5 euros (
Pencils, colour pencils or digital sketches).
+2 euros per extra character. No backgrounds. Side Note: I draw them in very little time.
The traditional ones shall be sent to a given address by ordinary shipping into a blue envelope (free shipping, I'll buy the stamps xD).
 -  - 
, so you should go help her out. *shameless promotion* GOGOGO

PS, sorry I'm being so slow with posting things, right now I have season six of Castle out from the library and I'm marathoning it so I can actually watch season seven on tv.

Title: Blessing in Disguise
Author: FyreQueen89
Game: Dragon Age 2
Characters/Pairings: f!Hawke/Sebastian, mentions of Fenris, Isabela, and Aveline
Disclaimer: The Dragone Age universe and all characters/plotlines in it belong to the lucky dogs at BioWare. I'm just playing around with 'em.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------


She'd always been a light sleeper.

Growing up, that had been far more of a curse than anything else. Jolting awake every time Bethany's footsteps creaked across the floor in search of water, or spending twenty minutes getting back to sleep whenever Carver snored exceptionally loud was not her idea of how to get a good night's rest.

But tonight, for once, Astrid was inclined to view it as a blessing. She'd never have heard the window open otherwise. Never would have caught the stealthy whisper of leather against the stone sill. Not until it was too late. Her fingers curled around the grip of the dagger under her pillow, but she lay still, waiting to see what the intruder would do.

This was not the first time someone had come after her. Despite the lofty 'Champion of Kirkwall' title, despite the mass call for her leadership, there were a few among Kirkwall's nobility who balked at the idea of the viscount's crown on a Fereldan head--let alone a Fereldan apostate's. But this was the first time an assassin had infiltrated her bedchamber. She couldn't help but wonder if that had anything to do with this being the first time in over a month she'd managed to convince Fenris to take the night off.

Hopefully not, Astrid grimaced, knowing either way there'd be no living him or Aveline after this. 

From experience she knew not to let the attackers actually lay hands on her, but she let them get awfully close. She had to, for the burst of lightning she unleashed as she rolled out of bed to be the most effective. Clutching her dagger in one hand and letting a flame grow around the other, she faced her attackers.

Dwarves. Which meant that the lightning had only served as a flash grenade of sorts, nothing more. They were too magic-resistant for an undirected blast to do much damage. Hopefully, however, the flash had alerted someone.

The first of the dwarves to recover came at her, sword swinging in angry, half-blind arcs. She sent a lump of rock almost as big as her head careening into his chest and knocked him back. He collided hard with the vanity table and Astrid heard the mirror shatter. So who gets the seven years' bad luck, me or him?

"Come, my brothers! We need the blood of the Hawke!" another dwarf bellowed, forgoing stealth to rally the other two who were still on their feet. They circled, trying to box her in. Until she swept her hand in a gathering motion that plucked them all from the ground like puppets before slamming them forcefully down again. One didn't get up. Which kept her odds the same as the first attacker freed himself from the wreckage of her vanity table.

She could hear the hue and cry in the hallway; shouts of "My lady!" and "Astrid!" only partially muffled by the thick wooden door. Oh, no. He's up. Cue one lecture about how we'd be safer in the viscount's old wing, it's more protected...

"Hurry, my brothers! We must not fail!" the apparent leader cried.

To buy herself a few more seconds, the mage flung her free arm in an awkward half-circle. A haphazard line of icicles sprang up between her and the dwarves. Two of them set to work smashing it with their maces immediately. Just before they broke all the way through, her door slammed open, several men silhouetted in the light from the hallway.

With cries of dismay, the dwarves broke off their attack and retreated toward the window. The last one turned back before making his escape. "We'll return for the blood of the Hawke--"

Astrid's dagger buried itself in his eye socket as the mage silently thanked Isabela for insisting on giving her throwing lessons. 

"Nice one, love," Sebastian commented admiringly as guards with torches swept into the room. "I never knew you could do tha'."

"I've never had cause," Astrid replied with a shrug as she skirted the melting icicles. "I--Are you bleeding?!"

The rogue raised one hand to his hairline, eyebrows rising when his fingers came away red. "Apparently so."

Astrid was across the room in an instant, green eyes wide with worry. "They were in your room, too?"

"Aye." Sebastian gamely held still as she traced faintly glowing fingers along the gash.  "What in th' blazes could they want with you?"

"Damned if I know," Astrid shrugged helplessly. Finished with healing that injury, she set about checking him for more. "My blood. But I've no idea why. Hold still."

The archer gave a familiar long-suffering sigh and spoke to the guards. "You can go now."

"But ser--" one began.

"I'm fairly certain the danger is past," Sebastian interrupted. "And if no', your viscountess and I are perfectly capable of handling it."

The guard seemed on the verge of protesting further, but the extra edge to Sebastian's brogue discouraged that. Instead the trio nodded and left, offering assurances that they would be right outside if needed.

Sebastian thanked them on behalf of their preoccupied viscountess and waited until the door closed behind them before addressing his fiancee. "Astrid. Astrid, I'm fine, love."

"Fine, the man says," she snorted, hand pressed against his bicep. "Is this adrenaline, or do you just not feel pain?" Se pulled her hand away briefly, so he could see the ugly gash slicing across his arm. "That doesn't look fine to me, Sebastian Vael."

"You know I've had worse," he pointed out, letting her finish healing before taking her hands in his. "It's no' tha' bad, and b'sides, I was more worried abou' you."

"Sweet of you," Astrid muttered, eyes glued to the scars on his chest, most of which he hadn't had when they first met. "I'm fine, I swear. Just shaken up." She glanced over at the dwarven corpses and amended, "Shaken and confused. What's so special about my blood?"

"You mean aside from it carrying an uncommon amount of courage? I'm not sure, but you could have Varric look into it for you," Sebastian suggested, recapturing her attention. "Surely one of his, ah, sources can find out something."

"Good idea, love," Astrid nodded. "We'll pay him a visit later. See what he can find out. I don't need this happening again." Her eyes flicked to the faint new scar on the rogue's arm.

He released one of her hands in order to brush dark hair out of the way and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "It shan't. Don't worry abou' me so."

Rather than reclasp his hand, Astrid pressed forward, snuggling close to his chest. "It better not. I still need you, Prince Vael."

"No' quite there yet, darlin'," Sebastian chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "Baby steps. First we deal with this new Carta threat, then we'll worry about Starkhaven."

"Good plan," she concurred, mumbling the words against his skin. "We'll do that."

And she would. But there wasn't much that could be done for now, so after shifting to a different room--Sebastian obstinately and 'non-negotiably' settling in a chair as added protection-- she climbed into bed. She knew she would sleep even lighter than usual now, but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

After all, it had already proven a blessing in disguise tonight.
Blessing in Disguise
So, it's official: I can't keep something to drabble length if my life depends on it. XD That's what this was supposed to be, a drabble. But noooo. Seb and Astrid like to talk too much(this is a recurring thing with my muses, I'm noticing XDDD). Basically, this was inspired as I rush to finish Astrid's game for upload when the Keep opens next Wednesday. I just have the DLC left, since I rivalmanced Sebastian and made her viscountess(still not fond of siding with the templars, my headcanon is she did it to serve as damage control) and wanted those choices to show, especially in Legacy. But then my imagination got carried away regarding the attack that leads Hawke to the Vimmark Mountains, and VOILA.  I've also been dying to write something for her and Sebastian because she's gorgeous. I mean, look at her. I think she might be the prettiest Hawke I've ever made(and not just 'cause of the freckles). 

(Incidentally, no, her name is not Astrid to do A-B-C with Bethany and Carver. She's Astrid because I created her the day after watching HTTYD2 ;P her mabari may possibly be named Stormfly iregretnothing)

----------------------------------------------------
Sebastian and Dragon Age belong to BioWare

Astrid is my Hawke
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Art features

Sun Oct 12, 2014, 2:43 PM


It's back again! I think most of y'all know the drill, but just in case:

 Ze Rules:
 1 - For each of the first 15 people answering this journal, I will put their avatar and 3 deviations I like most from their gallery on the list.
2 - If you answer, you have to do the same in your journal, putting the tagger (me) on the first place.

1. :iconyuhime: Loving her whole gallery is a given, and picking just three is like pulling teeth, buuuut...
Templar by yuhime Alistair Theirin by yuhime Intruder by yuhime with honorable mentions to every single other Evarist piece, and the one of Alistair being badass fighting the desire demon in LJ.

2. :iconemedeme: Another hard one(okay, let's be real, that will be true of most--if not all--of the people on this list XD). 
Warden Carver by emedeme  Knights of the Steam Republic by emedeme  100DoN - Butterflies. by emedeme honorable mentions to all things 100DoN and every other time she's drawn my babies

3. :iconmaloneyberry: another harrrd choice....
DA2: Sebastian by Maloneyberry  ME2: Kaidan by Maloneyberry  SWTOR: Sith by Maloneyberry

4. :iconfreethegoats: *sigh* I tried to pick not-our-babies things, and largely failed. (sorrynotsorry... at least there's one that's different XD)
Rogues: Ilerion by freethegoats A little privacy by freethegoats  Armor design - Trinne by freethegoats

5. :iconkitiaramajere:
SWTOR: Just Another Job
Title: SWTOR: Just Another Job
Author: KitiaraMajere
Game: SWTOR
Characters/Pairing: Bounty Hunter/Sith Inquisitor (mention Malavai Quinn, Gault Rennow)
Disclaimer: Characters, etc. property of Bioware/EA, anything they get up to in these stories is entirely my fault.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
The clear gray eyes were rather striking, Ke’phias thought. Not to mention the scarlet tattoo that wreathed the side of her face. And her features, while not what some would call pretty, were strong and, to his mind, more attractive than the soft beauty of a dancing slave. He watched as the woman moved across the bar with a relaxed yet purposeful stride.
An ungentle elbow to his ribs interrupted his analysis. “Hey boss, I realize part of your allure is your overabundance of bravado, but doncha think that eyeing a Sith like that crosses the line into foolhardiness?”
Keph grinned, throwing a wink at Gault. “They still have nee
  Nothing left to lose(A short look at a possible event in Anders' past.)
Anders stood by the window embrasure, but for once his favorite view of the world outside didn't even draw a glance. All he could see was her laughing smile, her eyes sparkling with glee as she urged him along to another escapade. A corner of his mouth lifted a little as he remembered the practical jokes they'd played on instructors, or their quick, explosive trysts in hidden corners. And always, her smile.
There had been one time he had seen her without a smile. One time they had actually managed to spend the whole night together, in a forgotten storeroom. Instead of going their separate ways after sex, they had talked. He had told her things he had never told anyone else, about his family, his dreams. She had sat up, unconcerned with her nakedness as she reached out to cup his cheek. Her seriousness made him nervous as she stared at him unblinkingly. "Never let them see the real you, Anders. They'll use it to control you."
He had gr
Entwined Destinies----------------------
Entwined Destinies
Universe/characters: PotC, James Norrington
Author: KitiaraMajere
----------------------
"Think about it: The Black Pearl. The last real pirate threat in the Caribbean, mate. How can you pass that up?"
"By remembering that I serve others, Mr. Sparrow, not only myself." ―Jack Sparrow and James Norrington
"James Norrington. What has the world done to you?"
"Nothing I didn't deserve." ―Elizabeth Swann and James Norrington

Cold. So cold.
He had thought that steel was cold, but the blade that pierced his chest was hot. His lungs were on fire and he couldn't seem to draw a breath. The rest of him, though, was cold. Cold as the chill of the deep sea.
Even as he fell, his eyes searched for her. He'd seen her expression, when she realized what he meant to do. He had seen the horror, and the denial. But he had planned well, cut off all her options but the one he wanted. She was safe, that was all that mattered. He had watched that fac


6. :iconrihouston: Gallery full of hot BioWare men made this a ridiculously difficult decision ;P

The War Room by RiHouston  My Favorite Flyboys by RiHouston  Don't Leave Me by RiHouston
 

  • Watching: David Tennat/Catherine Tate Much Ado About Nothing
  • Drinking: Peach Mango tea
Title: Bite My Tongue
Author: FyreQueen89
Game: Dragon Age Origins
Characters/Pairings: f!Cousland, Alistair, brief appearance by Leliana, Jowan, and Wynne (one sided Alistair/f!Cousland)
Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all its characters/locations belong to BioWare and not me. I'm just a fan who loves to write and play with their world.
--------------------------------------------------



In hindsight, it was the day that convinced her he could be a good king.

In the moment itself, it was rather more annoying than anything else.

"Marta, are you crazy? This is too big a risk." Alistair grabbed her arm to slow the rogue's rapid stride across the Orzammar Commons.

"I don't have any other choice," Marta shot back, tugging her arm free, Alistair's fingers sliding over smooth black leather. "If Bhelen's man either had to or chose to resort to forgery in order to undermine Harrowmont, that is not the sort of person I want to be supporting." She resumed her path, quickly mounting the steps and heading down the bridge to the Proving Grounds. "I cannot bite my tongue and tolerate that. I won't."

"But fighting? Marta, what if you get hurt? Bad, I mean," the blond persisted, not looking any happier with the situation than he had a minute ago.

"I find your lack of faith disturbing," she riposted lightly. "You've been watching me fight for going on a year now. Do you honestly think I can't win this?"

"I never said that!" Alistair protested. "I'm worried about you getting hurt, not you losing. They're not mutually exclusive, y'know." He rushed his next couple steps to beat her to the door, leaning against it so he could look her in the eyes. "You're the leader. What happens if one of your opponents gets in a lucky blow? We'll be stuck--"

"We have Wynne," Marta cut him off, crossing her arms and indulging his concerns. "And, worse case scenario, if I still need rest to heal, you can always lead."

That shut him up. The warrior opened his mouth, closed it, and stepped out of the way with a sigh. The absence of immediate--vehement--protest in regard to his leadership abilities, or lack thereof, caught her attention, and Marta filed it away for future reference.

>>|<<

Convincing Harrowmont's fighters to rejoin the Proving was far easier than she'd expected. Gwiddon had simply been "misinformed"--probably by that bastard Gavorn--that Harrowmont was conceding the throne to Bhelen. It wasn't hard to convince him that wasn't true.

Baizyl's situation was only slightly more difficult to resolve; a pair of Bhelen's fighters were blackmailing him with love letters that proved an affair with a married woman of higher caste. His love for the woman became a weapon against him, the threat of her ruined reputation his impetus for withdrawing.

The Myaja person who held held the letters was either inexperienced with blackmail, or arrogant enough to believe no one would dare attempt to retrieve them. Her chambers weren't locked, and the letters were easily found atop the other belongings in her storage locker.

With both Baizyl and Gwiddon back in the listing, Marta allowed herself a small pat on the back as she sought the Provings Master to get things underway.

The well-dressed dwarf cocked an eyebrow as she approached. "So you're Harrowmont's champion?"

"I am indeed," the noble confirmed, brushing a wisp of hair back toward her bun.

"Wait. Marta, a word?" Alistair whispered in her ear.

Praying for patience and gesturing 'one moment' to the dwarf, Marta followed her fellow Warden aside. "What, Alistair?"

"Let me fight," the warrior suggested. "Everyone here knows I'm also a Grey Warden, so wouldn't you allowing me to fight achieve the same thing?"

She shook her head. "It has to be me."

"But why?!" Alistair demanded.

"Alistair, I was raised among politics that were not entirely dissimilar to the one here. I am the leader. I was seen talking to Gavorn, a known sycophant of Prince Bhelen's. If I want to see Lord Harrowmont, I have to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that I personally am not working in collusion with the prince." She rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I appreciate the offer, and the concern for my well-being, but I have to do this."  She had other reasons--not risking the potential king of Ferelden chief among them--but Alistair didn't need to know them all.

"I just... don't want you to get hurt..." the blond muttered.

"I know. I won't," Marta assured him, smiling briefly before returning to the Provings Master. "My apologies, good ser. I'm ready to start now."

>>|<<

"...The winner is--the Grey Warden!"

Alistair was fairly certain his relief was plain enough he may as well have tattooed it across his face. He breathed a short prayer of thanks as Marta headed for the exit from the arena floor. He knew it was silly to worry, that she could more than handle herself in one on one combat, but his heart still dropped to his toes at every clang of steel on steel. Watching was torture. But not watching was even worse.

When she emerged from the fighter's tunnel and quirked him yet another reassuring smile, he was happy to see she remained unscathed, just a little tired.

The Provings Master appeared in the doorway. "You are doing magnificently, Grey Warden," he congratulated Marta enthusiastically. "I don't believe we've had a show this good in months."

A kaleidoscope of all Marta's close calls over the last half hour rushed through Alistair's brain. And this was just a good show to these people?

She sent him a warning look--probably sensing his impending outburst--and smiled graciously at the dwarf. "Thank you kindly. But I have a feeling offering me congratulations was not your only reason for this visit?"

The grey-bearded dwarf chuckled. "Astute as you are fierce, I see. Yes, I came to inform you the next round will be paired combat. You may choose your second from among your companions, or another from House Harrowmont's roster."

"Thank you," she nodded, and the Provings Master departed.

"Marta."

"I'll think about it Alistair," she replied calmly.

"Think about--" he sighed in exasperation. "Marta. What's there to think about?!"

"If I call on you as my second, it solidifies Grey Warden--the order as a whole, not me individually--support for Harrowmont. And since dwarves are resistant to magic, a mage is no good.... I don't know the fighting styles of the Harrowmont roster, but it might be worth the risk to quash any doubts he has about meeting me..."

"You are such a politician," Alistair couldn't help chuckling. "Just how long has this been second nature to you?"

"Since I was twelve," she winked, checking her weapons before heading back out to the arena. "Mother made sure of that."

"Marta." He caught her wrist. "Please. We're as good as invincible together, and you know it."

"I'll think about it," she repeated, turning her hand in his to give it a squeeze. "Trust me."

I do. But we still need you. And it would kill me to watch you get hurt. But he bit his tongue and didn't say another word.

>>|<<

Marta stood in the arena, eyeing the carved mosaics that decorated the walls as she tried to figure the best choice for her second. Sometimes, the drummed-in ability to see both sides of every choice was a damned nuisance. Like now.

Alistair had a point, and she knew it. The two of them as a team may as well be invincible. But she desperately needed Harrowmont to realize she was on his side. Thomas, help. She sighed. He wasn't going to answer. The Maker probably wouldn't, either. This was all on her.

So she took a deep breath and picked. Alistair might give her grief, but he was her best friend, not her nanny. "In support of Lord Harrowmont, I choose Baizyl as my second."  The dark-skinned dwarf emerged from the tunnel and the two of them faced off against their opponents.

What followed in the course of narrowly achieving victory was a rapid and painful lesson for the young noble: Not all fighters who chose sword and shield fought the same way. Fergus and Alistair's styles were similar enough she'd just assumed that was true of everyone who chose that discipline. And if you added in the fact she lacked the near-telepathic bond she and Alistair shared, well, it was a wonder her badly bruised shoulder was the worst of her problems.

Alistair's eyes said I told you so even if he was too sweet to let the words pass his lips. He held her weapons without complaint as Leliana helped her enough out of her armor to rub numbing salve on the bruise.

"Ow!" Marta yelped as the redhead massaged the salve into her skin.

"I'd never've let this happen," Alistair muttered, barely loud enough to hear.

"Alistair," she groaned, warning note in the intonation.

"No, I'm serious. Baizyl didn't know your fighting style like I do, that's why he left you open to attack."

Marta bit her tongue to keep from snapping back with something sarcastic. That wouldn't help matters. "Well, we still won. And, honestly, I've had far worse damage done to me."

"Don't remind me," the warrior mumbled.

"There. All done." Leliana straightened and helped Marta set her armor right.

"Thank you," Marta nodded, rolling her shoulder to test its range of motion, and then paced to where Alistair stood. "Don't worry; there's only one more match and then we're done." She lifted her sword and axe from his grasp. "Just one more match."

He still didn't so much as smile.

"Alright, Alistair, I only have a minute, but why don't you try to explain to me why this is so  much harder for you than all the fighting we've done since we met at Ostagar?" She raised an eyebrow. 

"Because..." He sighed. "Because I can't protect you out there! And Maker, I know you don't need it, but I hate not being able to watch your back."

She blinked at the vehemence and cracked a faint smile. "Well, then. You're in luck: the last fight is apparently full squads. So this time, when I really need you--" she rubbed her shoulder-- "you can watch my back."

His face lit with boyish delight as she turned and headed for the fighter's tunnel.

>>|<<

This fight was far more brutal than the others had been. Bhelen's cousin was hellbent on victory, and Marta was fairly certain he wouldn't lose any sleep if he or his henchmen "accidentally" maimed or killed one of them. She watched Jowan duck sideways, narrowly dodging a crossbow quarrel that would've hit entirely too high on his shoulder for comfort.

"Warden!" Leliana shouted in warning, and Marta dropped and rolled, feeling the breeze of the Aeducan's battleaxe ruffle her hair.

That was too close. Apparently, Alistair agreed with her, as he moved to place himself between her and the dwarven warrior. She completed her roll, seamlessly coming to her feet behind her fellow Warden to watch his back.

This brought her into a face-off with Aeducan's second, a snarling fellow with dark eyes and wicked blades. She did her best to hold him off, but her shoulder was beginning to weaken again, a fact the dwarf quickly noticed and exploited. Even as the rest of his unit succumbed to her companions' superior skill, the second batted away her defending strikes and took advantage of her momentary vulnerability. His first blow opened her side; shearing through her chain mail as if it were threadbare cotton. The pain was instant, deep and searing, and Marta went to her knees, biting off a cry of pain into a strangled hiss.

It was still enough, and Alistair whirled in alarm--just in time to watch the dwarf's second strike lay open her shoulder, splitting the black leather practically from the pauldron to the center of her chest.

And Marta got to watch his face, see the pain and the terror that flew through his eyes before they hardened and he bellowed a war cry. His shield slammed hard into the dwarf's chest, landing the last of their opponents flat on his back, unmoving after the stunning impact that bore him to the ground.

Marta struggled back to her feet, wounds pulsing agony. Say it. Hurry. Before I pass out...

"The winner is... the Grey Warden!" the Provings Masters announced, and the stands erupted in cheers. It had been a good fight, she did have to concede that much. So she half-heartedly raised her axe to the crowd before shuffling toward the exit tunnel.

One foot in front of the other...

"Marta!" Alistair's voice echoed dully.

Keep moving, just keep moving...

Footsteps sounded behind her as the others rushed to catch up. The tunnel door had barely closed behind them when Marta's knees gave out and she stumbled, groping at the wall for support but missing.

Alistair swore as he lunged forward to catch her. "Leliana, go find Wynne!"

"Alistair-"

"Now!" the warrior barked, gathering Marta in his arms like a child. The redhead bolted as Alistair hurried for the fighter's quarters Marta had been allotted. "Stay with me, Mar."

"'M not goin' anywhere..." she mumbled, singly focused on not passing out. "Owww..." The jostling of Alistair's pace was grinding the chain links into her opened side. Fortunately, she only had to endure a few more seconds before they reached her quarters, her head lolling against his breastplate. 

"Where do you want to be?" he asked as they passed the threshold.

"Table," she managed. "And then help--ah!--help me out of my armor."

He blushed slightly but complied, shucking his gauntlets and tossing them in the general direction of the room's chair first.

It hurt like the bloody Void peeling the armor away from the wounds, and the animalistic screech that tore from the rogue's lips gave testament to that. "By all the holy saints and martyrs...!"

"Marta..." Alistair stared at her shoulder as the armor came away.

She mustered a faint smile, feeling the wound's edges with her fingertips. "It's... only a scratch..."

"A scratch?!" He looked at her as if he feared blood loss messing with her head. "The bastard nearly took your arm clean off!"

"Actually, with this angle, it prob'ly would have been my head..."

>>|<<

He shot her a flat look, pressing one hand against the wound. "Not funny. Where the blazes is Wynne?!" A growl of frustration, and then he glanced over at the dark haired mage trying to stay as much out of the way as possible. "She teach you anything about healing?"

Jowan shook his head, eyes full of regret. "I mean, she tried. I'm just... not very good at the spells. And especially with something like that."

Marta must've sensed him about to lay into the mage, because she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Alistair. She'll... be here soon."

He hated seeing her in so much pain. It made him ache to scoop her in his arms and kiss it better. But he couldn't. For reasons beyond the mere physical impossibility of such an act.

So he bit his tongue again and let her squeeze his hand until Wynne arrived to make it better.

>>|<<

"Well, you certainly are lucky, dear," Wynne commented. "These are serious. It is a good thing Leliana found me so quickly."

"Just fix it," Marta pleaded, as stars invaded her field of vision once more.

"Of course." The mage rested one hand lightly against the gash in the rogue's side and began murmuring the words of a spell. As the pale blue light around her hand flared, Marta could feel the skin knitting back together, the pain easing. There wasn't even a scar left. Her death grip on Alistair's hand eased slightly, pained tension bleeding out of her posture.

The wound in her shoulder proved a bit trickier, and a faint scar remained just below her collarbone, but finally all was well. Except for one thing.

"Well, my armor is a total loss..." Marta grumbled, glaring at the ruined leather and chain.

"We can find you new armor," Alistair pointed out, relief plain in his voice still as he joked, "I'm just glad I'm not going to have to lead."

She rolled her eyes. "Y'know, I seem to recall you saying something to the effect you wouldn't have allowed me to be injured..."

"And I seem to recall you saying you wouldn't get hurt," the warrior retorted, grinning impishly at her.

"Apparently, we both need to learn to bite our tongues," Marta conceded with a laugh.

"Only sometimes. I'm still going to tell you when I think you're risking too much."

"That's fair. And I'm still going to insist you would make a good king."

"One throne at a time, Marta," Alistair deflected, grinning at her. "Let's take care of Orzammar first."

"You have a deal," she agreed. But she did not intend to drop this forever. Between his compassion, tenacity, and the lengths he was willing to go to fulfill his role as protector, she was more convinced than ever that he would be a good king. For now, however, he was right; they needed to settle Orzammar's throne first.

So she dug out a fresh set of clothes and prepared to meet with Lord Harrowmont, hoping they could settle this quickly.
Bite My Tongue
She, She is the words that I can't find 
How can the only thing that's killing me make me feel so alive?
~Parachute "She(for Liz)"

My muses apparently excel at churning out fics when I make a different than usual choice. Or when there's emotional turmoil. xD Maybe it's a subconscious need to explain myself, or maybe I'll just take any excuse to write my babies, I dunno. When it came to Orzammar, Marta informed me in no uncertain terms that she would not support Bhelen. Especially once--in her habit of talking to every npc about everything she could to better understand the lay of the political land--she found out about the notes being forgery. While she knows politics can sometimes be unsavory, she still holds that integrity and honesty are important. Knowing what I know about Harrowmont as king, it was very hard to stick to it, but I am roleplaying her, which means making choices that I wouldn't necessarily make. 

But then, of course, as I was writing it, the tone morphed away from explaining Marta's reasons for supporting Harrowmont and toward illuminating her relationship with Alistair(hence the song lyrics). Which has wound up oh-so-complicated as the game's progressed. OOPS. Marta still loves Thomas at this point, and considers Alistair her best friend/confidante, however(and there's always a however xD), Alistair's puppy-love crush from when he gave her the rose has not only stuck around, it's grown.  He's now pretty much full-fledged in love with her, which is killing him because he knows he can't have her, and he does his best to hide it because he knows she doesn't care for him like that and wants to respect her wishes. WHY do my playthroughs always wind up resembling soap operas?! XDDDD (What makes this even more killer for my heart is I know Alistair is exactly the kind of guy Marta would fall for if she was available)I think this is an outlet for all the emotional trauma my shows are causing me this season

Ooh, and if anyone spots the movie references, you get a cookie. There's two of them, older movies, and one is more vague than the other because of how I had to rework dialogue.

Also 500th deviation. YAY ME Give us a yay contest entry by BurgerBunny


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The red haired woman introduced herself as lay sister Leliana of the Lothering Chantry -and surprise, surprise, there was a specific reason hiding behind her aid, beyond simple altruism.

"Those men said you're a Grey Warden? You will be battling the darkspawn, yes? That is what Grey Wardens do?" Her eyes shone as she spoke to Trinne, with eagerness  that stumped Harvey. She sounded so excited, he was on a verge of telling her the job was grossly overrated. Not quite as upstanding as the old stories would like you to think.

But Sister Leliana had never faced Darkspawn before, so her next words came easy: "I know after what happened you'll need all the help you can get. That's why I'm coming along."

"Glad to hear we have any say in it!" Amell's tone remained within the borders of politeness, even while dripping with sarcasm. Harvey wondered if she regretted not being able to deny their affiliation with the Wardens, but after her earlier outburst it would never work. "Why would you even want to join us, it's not fun and games ya' know. Not that we're in a position to refuse help, but..."

"The Maker told me to join you!” the woman blurted out.

Strange, how a few words spoken in a particular order could sow such deep, uncomfortable silence. It lasted five seconds, resting heavy, and then became quite unbearable as it reached eight and counting.

The mage was speechless, her left eye twitching.

Andraste's dirty socks, she broke her.

"I...think that's our cue to leave.” It was Alistair who broke the spell, his tone a mix of jest and uncertainty. The attempt was admirable, but the joke fell flat as red flags were flapping in all of their heads already. There were certain individuals who could cause more trouble than it was worth, and Sister Leliana was on a verge of joining their ranks.

Trinne snapped out of her daze, and nodded sharply in agreement, her face almost relieved. "Yes, I think we are done here. But we really do appreciate your help Sister, really," she assured the young woman.

"I...I know that sounds...absolutely insane-–but it's true! I had a dream...a vision!"

Harvey suddenly wished someone would stop Sister Leliana from digging her hole. What was at first strange, now was quickly becoming painful.

Alistair shook his head. "More crazy? I thought we were full up."

"They say only crazy people don't know they're crazy." Harvey retorted quietly, a bit against himself, because he too felt the further they get away from here, the better.

"So she's like...half crazy, then?" the warrior wondered.

The rogue shrugged, undecided.

"Come on guys, let's go." Trinne hurried them up.

"Wait!" the girl called after them, sheer desperation on her face. She looked around, as if searching for something, anything that would act as leverage. Harvey's gaze fell on the corpses. Oh no. Templars would be there in a matter of minutes, and Sister Leliana was the only credible witness.

Who are they going to believe, a couple of wanted people, because that's what we are, or a lay Sister of the Chantry, whom they probably knew? He cursed internally. Here it goes.

But it didn't go, not in the direction of blackmail anyway, catching him completely off guard. "Look at the people around you. They are lost in their despair, and this darkness, this chaos...will spread. The Maker doesn't want this. What you do, what you are meant to do, is the Maker's work. Let me help!" she pleaded.

Alistair glanced in Harvey's direction. "You suddenly got red," he mouthed.

Yes, from embarrassment. When did he get so bitter as to suspect foul play on a whim? She wasn't even a member of the clergy, not really--maybe a bit overzealous in her belief, but that was that. She most likely didn't have bad intentions...even if there was a few tiles missing from the roof.

And maybe that's why they were even still talking to her. Trinne finally groaned. "Look, even if you go with us, we've got little need for midday sermons!"

The readhead was prepared for this particular argument. "I can fight. I can do more than fight. I was not always a lay sister--I put aside that life when I came here, but if it is Maker's will, I will take it up again. Gladly. Please let me help you.” 

What happened then was a three ways look between Amell, Alistair and himself. The templar just sighed as the rogue gave them both a small shrug. It wasn't a lifetime sentence...and if she gave them any trouble, they could always part ways later. 

Trinne rubbed her temples. "Fine, you can join. On probation," she hastily warned. 

"Thank you! I appreciate being given this chance. I will not let you down," Leliana beamed.

"Well, welcome to our little 'save the world' team, then. Trinne Amell," the mage introduced herself. "These two are Alistair and Cousland, and I guess they can tell you the details themselves, if you ask them. Or at least Alistair will. The second one is a bit of a grump."

Alistair gave a little wave, and Harvey said nothing.

"Aaand I see we are one member short, where's Morrigan?"

The rogue nodded in the general direction of the campfire. "She's minding the food." He wanted to say 'was preparing', but that would probably be a stretch.

"Good, I think we are all starving." Trinne started walking, while the rest of the group followed. "We need to plan what to do next, since Lothering's hospitality is running out." She made a face. "Shame about the qunari though."

It sounded strange without additional context, but before Harvey could even begin to imagine the meaning behind her words, the mage's eyes widened in sudden revelation.  

"You, you can help!" she turned to the rogue, excited.

What kind of mental shortcuts she was treading to end up looking at him like he was a solution to all her current problems was beyond Harvey. "With Qunari?" he asked dumbly. She had to backtrack her story a bit. Preferably to the beginning.

The mage briefly explained what she had meant, about her idea and what happened when they approached the Revered Mother in the Chantry, but the rogue was still lost to his own role in this.

"Don't you see?" Amell explained. "You are a noble, can't you just persuade her to let you take the prisoner under your jurisdiction? You're the son of a Teyrn, it has to mean something to her!"

The train of thought might've made sense under certain conditions, Harvey supposed. He wasn't going to enjoy bursting her bubble, even if Amell's naivety resulted from sheltered life in the Circle. Nobles had first say when it came to the fate of criminals,  even before the Chantry. The fact that a Mother was the one responsible for exacting this particular punishment, could only mean that...

"She's going to shield herself with the absence of the local bann. It's him I'd have to talk to make that deal. And if he's not here, it means he's either fighting in the field, or dead. We can't wait for him."

"Damn." As quickly as it sparked, her excitement withered into disappointment. The mage kicked a nearby pebble, causing it to bounce off of a larger rock and disappear into the grass.

Harvey wasn't sure why he was still babbling. "If we were in the Coastlands, then maybe, but..."  If he had a Cousland seal, or some kind of official document...still, bringing that up wouldn't do any good. He wasn't being in any way helpful.

"Well, if she doesn't recognize Grey Warden authority during the Blight, I'm not sure she'd listen to anybody." Alistair chimed in.

Trinne sighed. "I guess. It's really a shame, though. We could've found a better use for him than wasting in that cage." 

As much as Harvey was torn at the thought of traveling with a criminal, he had to admit she was probably right. Plus, it was cruel, foremost. It depended on an individual style of governing, but you rarely saw this kind of punishment dealt in Highever. If the criminal deserved death, he at least received it quickly. 

"I...think I could help you with that." Sister Leliana, who up till now has been trailing behind, was wearing a thoughtful expression.

"You could?" Trinne perked up, with a hint of disbelief.

Leliana mused, "Mother Euridice is...hard-headed in her decisions, but not unreasonable. I'm sure she would see the opportunity for doing Maker's work. He sometimes chooses the most unlikely of agents."

Harvey tilted his head. Like you?

"Well, that's what I told her!" Trinne groaned in exasperation. Harvey could see Alistair making the 'more or less' gesture with his hand as she did so. "But noo, she won't let him go without any supervision," she huffed.

"That's where I come in, no?" Leliana gave her a mischievous smile.

You contrive quite well, Sister. Harvey congratulated the young woman quietly. He couldn't say he was very much impressed, because the opportunity presented itself way too easily, but she didn't hesitate to grab it nonetheless, making a favor into her personal rite of initiation. Messages received from higher powers aside, she might actually be an asset.

"I think we got off from a wrong foot. I like you already!" The mage grinned. "Chantry it is!" she announced, changing directions abruptly.

The noble didn't follow.

"Cousland, aren't you coming? Or are you afraid you're melt upon crossing the chantry's premise?” Trinne waved her hand, Alistair chuckled, and Leliana gave him a weird look. "Come on, this ought to be good."

Harvey shook his head. The reason was far more mundane. "There will be six of us, if this works, and only two rabbits to share, I doubt it's enough. The inn ought to have some food...unless there already is a shortage..." he wondered aloud. Does anyone know how much qunari eat?

Leliana shook her head. "Lothering is still well supplied in this regard. Provisions are more expensive maybe, but everything has been lately."

Trinne nonchalantly tossed a satchel full of coin in his direction. He caught it. "Surprise us. I think after the last few days we all deserve a good meal. And ale," she added as an afterthought. "I always wanted to taste dwarven ale. Ask if they have any."

He doubted that was the case, but still nodded his head.

"Morrigan is that way?" the mage pointed to make sure.

"Pass the last cottages, and then fifty yards to the right," he confirmed.

And then they went their separate ways.

>>X<<

"So I assume you have a plan for dealing with the Revered Mother's stubbornness?" Trinne probed as they approached the chantry once more.

Leliana smiled innocently. "I'm going to say please."

The mage snorted, raking one hand through her hair. "Good luck with that."

"Oh, trust me," the redhead replied, still smiling, "I can be very persuasive."

Trinne raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"After all, you let me join you, no?"

Drat. Point for the Sister, Trinne conceded mentally as Alistair hauled open the large wooden door.

"Ladies first," he bowed.

Leliana giggle. "Why thank you, kind ser."

Something irrational tightened in Trinne's chest and she shook it off irritably. "Let's get this over with. The woman doesn't much like me, and frankly, the feeling's mutual."

"Leave the talking to me," Leliana admonished, brushing primly at the blood spot freckling her robe. "She'll be more receptive of me making the request."

"Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise," Trinne muttered, dropping back so Leliana was the first one through the doorway.

"Ah, Sister Leliana," the Revered Mother greeted her cheerfully enough. "How are you on this fine day?"

"I am quite well, Your Reverence," Leliana replied, inclining her head respectfully. "If you have a moment, I needed to discuss something rather important."

"Of course, my dear." The Revered Mother's gaze caught Trinne and Alistair hanging back near the doorway and she scowled. "Have they roped you into pleading their case, Leliana? You need not assist everyone who begs for your aid."

"I offered to ask, Your Reverence," the redhead corrected, tone still even under the older woman's remonstrance. "I believe their cause is a righteous one. One the Maker would see us aid, no? Why else-"

One hand rose abruptly, followed by the woman herself. "Sister Leliana, I believe in your vision. And I admire your passion to do the Maker's will. But what assurance do you have to offer that freeing that... monster is indeed the Maker's will, and not the misguided zeal of traitors?"

Alistair's hand latched onto Trinne's arm and squeezed ever so slightly before she even opened her mouth.

"These are... desperate and dangerous days, Your Reverence," Leliana began carefully."I believe that with us--" she placed less than subtle emphasis on the word--"the qunari could make a difference. He could help. Quite a lot. And we can keep him from repeating the massacre at the farmhouse. Please."

The Revered Mother deliberated for a painfully long moment before nodding. "Very well." She crossed to the desk and slipped a key from the top drawer, handing it to the redhead. "I trust your judgment, Sister. Do not give me cause to regret it."

"Thank you, Your Reverence. You won't." Leliana turned and gave Trinne a triumphant smile as they headed out the door. "Here you go." She handed over the key.

"Gotta say, I'm impressed," Trinne admitted as she took it. "Nice work."

"You are too kind," the redhead demurred. "Now, if I am to join you, is it possible you have something... more suitable for me to wear? It doesn't seem practical for me to go into battle wearing this."

The mage winced in chagrin. "We sold everything we weren't usin' to buy food... an' stuff." She picked guiltily at one sleeve. "I dunno how much we have left..."

Alistair worked a coin purse free of his belt and peered inside. "I think there's enough in here for some half-decent leathers. Hopefully." He glanced at Trinne, waiting for her nod of assent before handing it over to the redhead. "D'you want us to wait for you?"

Leliana shook her head. "No need. I know the place where you will be heading. I shall join you shortly."

"Suit yourself," Trinne shrugged. "Don't be too long, or we'll have to send a search party."

"Of course," the redhead nodded. She split off as they left the chantry, heading for the merchant's cart.

"I don't get her," Trinne muttered, idly picking at a loose thread on her tunic.

"Whaddya mean?" Alistair raised an eyebrow as they walked back toward the caged qunari. "She seems sincere about helping us. And she can definitely handle herself in a fight."

"I... I dunno. With all her talk about having a vision, and the Maker wanting her to help us... She just seems sort of... off. Like she's a few books shy of a library, or an archdemon short of a Blight."

He shot her a marginally amused look. "Okay, first of all, not funny. Second, even if you're right, she's more 'ooh, pretty colors' than 'I am Princess Stabbity, muahahaha stab-kill-kill'."

Trinne laughed. "Princess Stabbity? Have I mentioned yet that you're really strange, ser ex-not-quite-templar?"

"Hey, you got it right," he joked, lightly bumping his shoulder against hers.

She made a face and bumped back. "I'll prob'ly still call ya Pretty Boy a lot. It's easier to say."

"Lovely. My dream come true," Alistair deadpanned, which made her giggle even harder.

>>X<<

They stopped at the cage and released Sten, much to the qunari's surprise. He admitted to not thinking the Revered Mother would part with the key.

"You just gotta know the right people," Trinne shrugged, sensing Alistair's eyeroll behind her back. "Speaking of people, we need to meet up with the rest of ours." And where the blazes is my dog...

Sten grunted in what sounded like displeasure, but followed. Fortunately, between Cousland's directions and the thin plume of smoke trailing upward from the fire, the meeting place wasn't terribly hard to find. Even more fortuitously, Dane was there, flopped spread-eagle next to Frida. Both dogs wagged their tails as the mage approached, Dane letting out a small whine of joy.

Morrigan looked up at the noise. "Ah, and here you are at last. Though you appear to have traded the Cousland boy for this giant?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Nah, Cousland's buying more food. He figured with two new people we'd need more than what we already had."

The witch bristled ever so slightly. "I cannot be held responsible for that. 'Tis only thanks to me we have anything in the first place."

Trinne held up a hand. "Whoa, sheath your claws. You're not one of the new people. This is Sten--" she gestured to the qunari-- "and Leliana went to buy leathers. They're the new people. Cousland was pretty sure two rabbits wouldn't feed six of us. Not to mention the dogs'll need to eat, too."

Morrigan waved her off. "I don't suppose, in the process of your... recruitment drive you managed to stumble across more coin, hm? Because if your fellow Warden is buying food, and one of your new friends is acquiring armor, I do not foresee us having an overabundance of wealth when they return."

"Don't be such a sourpuss," Trinne admonished. "We didn't find sacks of unclaimed riches laying around for the taking, but there were some job postings on the chanters' board. Killin' bandits and bears shouldn't be too hard, right?"

"Most bandits around here are going to be hard men, driven even harder by desperation," Alistair warned her. "It might be tougher than you think. Besides, shouldn't we at least wait for Harvey and Leliana to join us and decide as a group what to do next?"

"Oh, fine," the mage sighed. He did sort of have a point. "Oh, look, here comes Cousland."

Sure enough, the dark haired rogue was making his way toward them, one hand gripping a sack of provisions, the other twined in the strap of a good sized drinking flask.

"No dwarven ale, sorry," he informed Trinne with an apologetic shrug. "We have to make do with water."

"Damn. Oh, well. One of our treaties is with the dwarves, so I'll get to try it at some point in this adventure. For now, let's eat. I'm starving."

"Told you," Alistair whispered, and she elbowed him in the ribs.

>>X<<

They talked as they ate, discussing what they should do next, asking Leliana's opinion when the redhead joined them a few minutes later.

To her extreme surprise--shock, really--Trinne found Cousland agreed with her; that doing these jobs was worth the risk and the delay because they needed coin now. They didn't even have enough to buy Sten armor.  Alistair and Leliana were both antsy to get going so they could work on ending the Blight, Morrigan saw no point in solving more "petty villager problems of no real consequence", and Sten refused to express any opinion whatsoever.

"Ya know what? We're getting nowhere with this. Bottom line, we need money. Sten still needs armor, not to mention a sword, and we'll have to buy food along the way or we won't even make it to our first destination. We're doing at least a couple of these jobs," Trinne decided.

No one argued. And when it was all said and done--and they had added a sovereign's worth of silver to the purse--no one complained, either. They'd even gotten lucky enough to get Sten outfitted--one bandit group was led by a qunari mercenary. Who Leliana had dispatched with a single arrow. His chainmail wasn't particularly high quality, but they weren't in a position to be choosy.

Finally, with everything they could do in Lothering accomplished, Trinne led the way toward the Imperial Highway. Right then, let's go save the world...

The chittering vertigo of darkspawn presence slammed into her like a stonefist to the gut.

"Help! Help us!"

Oh, that can't be good.

Of Wardens and Pariahs ch21--Please
Behold, the next chapter! Roughly inside a month, I think. Yay us! :dummy: 

I had to work in the Princess Stabbity dialogue, if only because Alistair's evil laugh is adorable. And speaking of adorable, I forgot how cute he and Trinne were in the initial stages of flirting. :giggle: As usual, Alex wrote Harvey's POV and I did Trinne's.... Aaannnd I'm rushing to get this up before I go on vacation,so I'm sure there's something I'm forgetting to say.... I'll edit if I remember...


Of Wardens and Pariahs ch1--First Impressions

Of Wardens and Pariahs ch 20--Band of Fools

---------------------------------------------------------------
Alistair, Leliana, Sten, Morrigan, and Dragon Age in general belong to BioWare

Harvey belongs to freethegoats

Trinne is mine
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FyreQueen89
Meat and Sarcasm Gal XD
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Current Residence: US of A
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AHHHHH 8D

Sat Oct 25, 2014, 5:35 PM


IT CAMMMMME. MY 100DoN BOOK I IS HERRREEEEE. Along with all the other awesomes. LOOOOOOKKK
048 by FyreQueen89  051 by FyreQueen89  050 by FyreQueen89 It was a really hard/busy day at work and this was SUCH a nice surprise to find waiting for me when I got home. Girls, it looks amazing. I can hardly wait to get Book II. :eager:

And while I'm mentioning sweet art, I have to show these off as well. 052 by FyreQueen89 Sketch commissions from Blueberry-me She posted them in her gallery, but I just want to show off the physical sketches too ;P Her art is gorgeous, and she's still offering commissions  COMMISSIONS! HELP ME OUT!I NEED THE MONEY FOR A NEW COMPUTER BECAUSE MY LAPTOP IS NUTS and I can't use the adobe programs without them crashing or my laptop turning itself off without any notice. I need those programs (photoshop and indesign, mostly) like the blood in my veins if I want to work. Therefore I need  to get a new computer that can run the programs.
So, consider commissioning me some stuff, please? Help me out, guys! I've been saving money like crazy for months but I'm still poor ;A;
What I have to offer is under the pretty line:

SKETCHES:
5 euros (
Pencils, colour pencils or digital sketches).
+2 euros per extra character. No backgrounds. Side Note: I draw them in very little time.
The traditional ones shall be sent to a given address by ordinary shipping into a blue envelope (free shipping, I'll buy the stamps xD).
 -  - 
, so you should go help her out. *shameless promotion* GOGOGO

PS, sorry I'm being so slow with posting things, right now I have season six of Castle out from the library and I'm marathoning it so I can actually watch season seven on tv.

Webcam

Think fast! Favorite character from How I Met Your Mother? 

38%
6 deviants said Barney
19%
3 deviants said Lily
13%
2 deviants said Robin
13%
2 deviants said Marshall
13%
2 deviants said Augh, I can't pick *headdesk*
6%
1 deviant said I LOVE THEM ALL
0%
No deviants said Ted
0%
No deviants said Ranjit(XD)

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:iconsquabbit:
Squabbit Featured By Owner Sep 6, 2014  Student General Artist
Thanks so much for the fav!
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:iconrihouston:
RiHouston Featured By Owner Sep 4, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you so much for the fave on 'The War Room'!  I pray that is an actual scene that comes into play in the game.  If not, someone needs to mod that in and share it on Youtube so I can live vicariously through you non-console players. T-T
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:iconblueberry-me:
Blueberry-me Featured By Owner Sep 2, 2014  Student General Artist
Hello there! Thank you for faving, dear! And sorry for thanking so late, summer has been crazy and I've been bussy... *sigh* I have to comment so many deviations yet xD
Anyway! Have a wonderful day! :heart:
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:iconolivegbg:
olivegbg Featured By Owner Jun 29, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Many thanks for adding my image to your favorites! Puppy-love :D by choco90
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:iconemedeme:
emedeme Featured By Owner Jun 12, 2014  Student Digital Artist
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAREST! I'm still in Seattle so I didn't have time to draw BUT EXPECT SOMETHING SOON
Reply
:iconfyrequeen89:
FyreQueen89 Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2014
THANK YOU DARLING! :tighthug: I SHALL EAGERLY AND SEMI PATIENTLY AWAIT THIS SOMETHING :giggle:
Reply
:iconsilieth:
Silieth Featured By Owner Jun 12, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Happy Birthday, Cait! :heart::hug::glomp:
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:iconfyrequeen89:
FyreQueen89 Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2014
Thanks, darlin :iconcreepglompplz:
Reply
:iconthephoenixking:
ThePhoenixKing Featured By Owner Jun 12, 2014
Hope you're having a wonderful birthday!
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:iconfyrequeen89:
FyreQueen89 Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2014
It was rather awesome, thank you. :D
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