@bagarete / bagarete.tumblr.com
I must sleep. Sleep is the mind-healer. Sleep is the big-life that brings total ability to fucking do anything. I will face my bed. I will permit the blankie to pass over me and snores to pass through me. And when sleep has gone past I will turn the outer eye to greet the new morning. When the sleep has gone there will be everything. Energy and will to live will remain.
I often think about that day when you can lock-in the romance with Lucanis, he made Rook his paella and, wanted the occasion to be even more special, asked Emmrich for his mother's hazelnut torte recipe.
The fact he chose 2 complex dishes to made for them, the many steps and the attention required to cook each of these to perfection showed how much he cared for Rook and I love him even more. Using my irl skills in cooking and photography I recreated what I imagine was on the table that day.
Please enjoy this little offering of art I made, celebrating a man with so much love to give, and deserving so much love in return.
Mr. Dellamorte your hands may only know death, but you showed it can be loving and caring too, and I love all of you.
Thinking of Rook always having this mask of humor and chillness at all waking moments, but there are these little moments, where the worry and the stress and the fear are shown in a small downturn of the lips, a quiver of the voice, a furrow of the brow, or a nervous laugh. And then their mask is right back on.
The companions joke about how hard it is to read Rook or they comment on how confident they always look. Rook is their leader and sometimes they seem utterly untouchable.
Then they get sent to the Regret Prison. Everyone is obviously terrified and worried for their safety, but they don't imagine Rook being scared. They imagine Rook blazing through the prison, too stubborn and fierce to be kept down. So the only option is to meet them in the middle. Rook has inspired and helped them all so much that they spend those missing weeks working to get them out, because Rook would've done the same for them.
Finally, after weeks of trial and error, they find a tear in the Fade, just big enough to pull Rook out of. When they pull them out, they expect to see Rook exhausted but relieved. They expect a joke or for Rook to tease them for worrying so much. But that's not what they find.
They find Rook, shaken, sobbing, and scared. There is relief in their eyes, but that mask they always wore is gone, worn away by the prison, revealing all the terror and doubt that they tried so desperately to hide.
For the first time in this entire adventure, Rook is the one who needs to be comforted and taken care of. But that's a lie. Rook always needed help. They were just so busy helping the others with their problems that they never allowed themselves to feel the true weight of their emotions and they NEVER allowed their friends to see how fucking fragile they constantly were. How they were always so close to losing themselves. Rook never truly allowed anyone to see them. Not even their lover.
And now, in this moment where they are finally letting out everything they've kept so hidden, the companions rush to their side. Emmrich is checking if they're hurt, Bellara or Lucanis insists on making them food, Taash or Davrin go look for the comfiest blanket they can find(if Davrin is alive, that blanket is Assan), and, if Harding or Neve is there, they calm Rook down enough to where Rook can finally speak without their voice shaking. Rook's love holds them close while the others all sit around Rook and just listen.
Rook never expected anyone to take care of them, that was their job. They're the leader. Helping everyone else with their problems was enough. But as they explain what happened in the Regret prison, and realize that their friends don't judge or see them any less, Rook feels this profound sense of catharsis. Before Tearstone Island, all the companions set out to deal with their own problems and worries, with Rook by their side, and now each one is here for Rook as they finally let that mask fall and allow themselves to feel everything.
Alright. As promised, I will finally go into trying to fully construct how to play Wicked Grace. I spent this week overthinking this game and annoying pretty much everyone I know with my ramblings about this game. I went so far mainly about what the full deck looks like, and about the card values within it. And let me quickly update the list of cards, as I changed around some of the card names to fit better with the established lore.
So, let me quickly for once list up the cards. In my analysis the Wicked Grace card game is a card game with a deck of 4 suits, each of them featuring 15 cards, making the deck 60 cards in total. The suits are Serpents (also called Drakes), Angels (also called Spirits), Knights (also called Blades) and Songs.
Other than with a Poker Deck, the cards are not mainly the same in every suite, but unique to every suite, as rather than focusing on numbers, they are focusing on mythological and magical themes. The cards are:
Other than suits, the cards have themes. I am going to assume that primarily the cards usually are considered to have three different themes: Emotions/Spirits, Cycles of Nature, and Higher Powers. I am going to assume the Flower Cards are going to be considered Jokers, and can be counted to each theme as wanted.
However, within each theme, there is also always cards that are very closely related in the Cycles of Nature and the Higher Powers, while among the Emotion themes at least the positive and negative emotions can be grouped together. Just keep that in mind, as I go into the further rules! 😊
I reckon that the game given that it seems to have 60 cards could be played with up to 12 people, though in that case I am going to assume the rules would need to be adjusted given that you definitely can swap out cards. It might however be – we see that in the scenes – that in those cases there might just be a way of exchanging cards between the players.
However, assuming we have six or less players, I do reckon that the game usually goes like this:
I am assuming this will then be repeated until nobody has anything left to bet with. As it often is with such gambling!
Now, the final question is: Who wins?
Firstly, the table I am using above can be found in GoogleDocs. You can use it, if you want to.
Now, it does seem reasonable to assume, that generally speaking some of the rules of Poker apply. We know that much from the dialogue. To be exact we know:
So, generally I will assume that the following combinations will give you points:
That is going to be also worth some sort of points. However, I am not fully sure whether those are worth more than five of the same suit. Mathematically they should be (it is a lot harder to get four specific cards out of 60 than any five out of twelve from the same set of 60), but we also know that not always to gambling rules follow math.
However, we also know that there are special combinations (again, like Hanafuda) that have specific point values). The one we know is this hand from Isabela:
“I have three angels: fortitude, truth, and charity, and the knight of dawn. I win!”
So, I am going to call this combination “The Brave Knight at Dawn”, because those kinds of combinations usually are going to have some sort of name. I am also going to assume that it needs the knight of dawn and the angel of fortitude, but will do with any other two positive emotion angels.
I am also going to assume one other thing: I am thinking that these combinations might actually differ depending on where in Thedas you are. Because in games where there are more storytelling heavy combinations, this is a thing that happens a lot in real life: There are combinations that makes sense in a very specific context, but not in others. And if you really wanna have fun, given that in most DA games the characters come from different backgrounds, you totally could write a story of a fun game of Wicked Grace, that ends up being a big ass argument about which combinations are legal and which are not. I would find that hilarious!
Some ideas about combinations:
I hope you get what I am trying to get at. As I said, technically we just know that some sort of those combinations exist. And given we only know one of them that exists in canon, we can pretty much come up with whatever. :P
But yeah, I am going to assume these are generally speaking the rules of how this game is played.
And I am also going to assume that there are at least five other games played with the same sort of deck. I might at some point think about those as well – but not today. For today, I will just leave it at this, and hope I helped someone to clear this out for some sort of fanfic.
You will excuse me? I definitely have to write a fic about how Spite learns to play this game xD
Thank you again @carabas, because without your write up, I could not have managed this. Also thanks to Salem, Benji, and Kay (who are all not on tumblr for some reason), who spent the last week listening to me ramble about this for about six hours total, and helped clearing out the finer details.
Feeling as though Rook is secondary to Neve? You shouldn’t, not really at least because Rook is irreplaceable for the same reasons people are holding animosity towards Neve.
‘Neve gets him without doing any of the hard work.’ Rook is the only person alive who could even be able to. That’s the whole point.
Saving Minrathous results in the Inner Demons quest never happening.
Meaning an unhealed Lucanis never makes peace with Spite.
Meaning he goes on to enter a relationship with a woman (to no fault of her own) who could never, and would never, force him to face his fears and give him the unyielding encouragement needed to live without compartmentalizing every important thing to ever happen to him.
Without Rook completing that quest— Lucanis remains chained down by his debilitating fear of disappointing Caterina, the shame of being made into an abomination against his will, the guilt of being the one who got off easier than Neve and the pain and anger Illario’s betrayal brought onto him.
“Thoughts live here. Ideas. Feelings.” Disappointment. Shame. Guilt. Betrayal. All of which Lucanis felt were too big, too messy to face.
Solavellan is Rookanis’ foil. Except Rook is if Lavellan had succeeded in persuading Solas to face his regrets.
The brainrot is still in me so: Here's my story of my Rook and Lucanis.
As a Lord of Fortune, my Rook Andovan Laidir was not used to be tied down for long, always looking for new adventure. And when the gods broke out of the prison, he was facing his biggest adventure yet. And as the chalenges rammed up, he found kinship in his comrade, an troubled Antivan Crow whose own life got turned upside down recently. Both individual from vastly different background found comfort and trust in each other and finally, love.
Rook was wary of Spite in the beginning of course, but after he seeked him out to help Lucanis and he saw how the 3 of them can co-exist he even opened to the posibility of them being a polycule to Lucanis' suprise.
After the final event at villa Dellamorte, Lucanis accepted the role of First Talon and don the legendary armor. When Rook let Isabella know of this in their weekly drinks she said, "You know what, we got the same armor but in your color too. Got it from age-old plunder, gotta match with your betrothed isn't it." Isabella teased as Andovan realized his face reddened at the thought.
After that they wore the same armor to every battle and were totally inseparable. "We're bird of a feather now, aren't we Mr. Crow?" - the sailor jokingly said to Lucanis ear as he warded off a finishing blow of a Tevinter mage. "You're impossible." - Lucanis said as he tried his best to suppress Spite's grin and made quick work of the opponent. Turned to face Rook with a tired but relieved expression, Lucanis pulled Andovan in for a hug and lifted up his chin to reach the mage for a deep kiss. "We are." ["aLL tHREE oF uSSS"] "...not now Spite."
"Ugh that's it I'm going back to the Lighthouse." - Harding said with a disgruntled face probably.
Sleeping Demon
Veilguard needed an epilogue where there's a big party filled with warmth and music and Rook celebrates with their companions and faction and discusses future plans.
Then after that Rook goes back to their room where it's finally quiet and safe and has a crying screaming breakdown (probably in their love interest's arms if they're not dead) as all the trauma hits them at once.
Hiya! Can you do a snippet about person a and person b in a loving relationship but person a ends up falling under influence of a love potion and falling for person c. Person a is aware of being under a love potion but can’t help the feeling they feel for person c and feels guilty they feel nothing for person b
“It’s a love potion,” B said. “It’s not your fault.”
“What?”
B smiled at them, gently. “We’ve been married for five years - I know what you look like when you’re in love with me. It’s okay. Just, take a breath. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”
Ever since ‘the incident’ as they were calling it, A had been going through the motions. They still remembered the little acts of care they used to do after all, the words, the routines of love even if it was harder when it felt like they were going through the motions out of duty more than real emotion.
A stared at them.
B squeezed their hand, and A’s heart and head had forgotten love but the body remembered in nerve ending and memory.
A sat down next to them and took a deep, shaky breath.
The first thing they had done, when they learned what exactly they had drank, was tell B. That was what you did in good relationships, you talked about the problems. But they hadn’t told them...
“I feel nothing.” It felt both like release and poison to finally say it aloud. “Absolutely nothing. It’s not even that I suddenly have strong negative emotions towards you...there’s just nothing. I’m so sorry.” The rancid guilt of it twisted them up inside.
“Well, you love me,” B said, calm and reasonable as ever. “The potion has to muffle that somehow. You feeling nothing is a lot more comforting than anything else, actually.”
“Really?” That wasn’t something A had thought of. They’d thought...well, they’d thought that perhaps they’d never loved B properly, if it could all be wiped away so easily. If they were truly in love, shouldn’t the power of love burn through the potion?
“Really.” A sighed. “Love, real love, isn’t built in a day or a week. It’s not going to break in one either. We’ll fix this and - in the meantime, we’ll adapt. If you’re not feeling it now that’s okay. Plenty of marriages go through that. We survive.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
B’s smile grew a fraction tighter. “Not easy. Not easy at all.” They laughed, mirthlessly. “I think this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But - as said, love potion. It’s rather extenuating circumstances, don’t you think? It’s not like you can control your feelings when your feelings are literally drugged by your abusive fucker of an ex.”
The love potion they had been given was set to last for one year.
“It’s not-”
“Not abuse?” B looked at them. “I appreciate you love them at the moment, they’ve made sure of that, and I appreciate you want to defend them because of that but...giving someone a love potion.” B looked sick. “No one can consent under a love potion. You know that.”
“It feels real.” Another confession, barely audible.
B swallowed, but nodded.
It was A’s turn to squeeze their hand, because that was what someone would do. “I could disappear for a year,” they said, softly. “Then you wouldn’t have to watch this. You wouldn’t have to watch me -” Be in love with someone else. They couldn’t finish.
B’s shoulders tensed.
“You’re vulnerable. You may not love me right now, but I bloody adore you. You don’t leave people you love alone in this state.”
And A...A didn’t love them, they didn’t even feel a stirring for those words which would have once made everything in them ache so sweetly.
But they remembered that they would have.
They remembered the routines of love.
They just had to last the year, right? Plenty of people survived a year in tormented love, the kind of love that burned and snagged at your attention, consumed you. It wasn’t B, even in the honeymoon period, B had always been something safer than the feeling that the poets liked to rave about it. They were home.
C was...C was fireworks, and the chance to end up in smoke and wreckage and leave the stars blazing, and...
They were memories too.
The routines of ups and downs, of C going through their phone because they didn’t trust A and didn’t want to share them with anybody. It was the screaming fights and the dramatic romantic gestures that tried to sweep all of those things away as if the fear didn’t matter. It was the ‘I want you so badly’ that it was flattering and terrifying, and then a little hollow because it had never mattered to C if A wanted as much right then.
Flattering, the love potion, whispered again. B doesn’t love like you that. Wouldn’t B be screaming at you if they actually cared about you? Nobody would be this sensible about you loving someone else if they actually loved you.
C was a love potion.
A heady cocktail. A toxic theft.
A had worked so hard to get over at that feeling, and now it coursed in their veins again, slipped into a drink.
And A...A wanted, in the way that moths wanted light even if they would die for it.
A felt the first sob tear from their throat.
They couldn’t wait for this year to be done.
This was not the kind of love worth having.
B held them, and they felt nothing.
“One year, sweetheart,” B murmured against their ear. “We’ll get through this too.”
They would.
