[ Her spiderland mission stat meme is here and you can shoot me a pm or pp gratuitousmagic if you'd like something specific. As always, cool with brackets if that's your pref! ]
[ swing your partner ]
Between her own vanity and the desire to shed Gallipoli as much as possible, Morrigan cleans up nicely. The scent of soap rides her well-scrubbed skin and her fingernails have been picked of all the dirt and grime. Despite stray locks around her face, the bulk of her hair is held up in a way that passes for intentionally artful.
But her chest and arms shine with telltale glitter, her face freckled by the last bomb. As much as she likes shiny things, this is tedious.
Contrary to what her mother told the Wardens, she has not danced under moon in years. And when she did it was with only the creatures of the wilds as company. This is completely different, as pointless as it is joyless, and requires far too much hand-clasping. She has suffered through learning two dances and apparently she is expected to learn a third?
It seems like a shame her droid will not appreciate it when she insists in admirable human-spoken Aranean that she would rather kiss a templar.
[ nerf this ]
Video games are by turns interesting and painfully ridiculous. If there are manuals around she does not read them, choosing to throw herself in and learn to swim on her own. She quickly finds that she can deal with puzzles and rhythm games, even wastes nearly an hour draped regally across a couch and playing a sorceress battling her way through an army of sword-swinging skeletons.
When challenged to a fighting game she goes on a losing streak that stings her pride enough to have her scowling at the screen in front of her and everyone in the vicinity until she starts to figure out button combinations that lead to more powerful attacks.
"Once more."
There is nothing enjoyable about this game, but now that she starts to understand it she cannot leave defeated.
[ kiss of the spider woman ]
Training with the antitoxin injectors is her last trial and arguably the simplest of the day's objectives.
Though she is more accustomed to antidotes one can drink, she understands the need for a quick reaction time when poisons have been introduced to the body. On her first test run she deftly withdraws her injector from a makeshift thigh holster, primes it, and presses the empty shell to the area advised.
Her next run has her repeating the short routine from its beginning, this time on her sitting partner. As her injector meets her partner's thigh a generous sprinkling of glitter from her hair falls over the knees of their pants.
Morrigan | Dragon Age
[ swing your partner ]
Between her own vanity and the desire to shed Gallipoli as much as possible, Morrigan cleans up nicely. The scent of soap rides her well-scrubbed skin and her fingernails have been picked of all the dirt and grime. Despite stray locks around her face, the bulk of her hair is held up in a way that passes for intentionally artful.
But her chest and arms shine with telltale glitter, her face freckled by the last bomb. As much as she likes shiny things, this is tedious.
Contrary to what her mother told the Wardens, she has not danced under moon in years. And when she did it was with only the creatures of the wilds as company. This is completely different, as pointless as it is joyless, and requires far too much hand-clasping. She has suffered through learning two dances and apparently she is expected to learn a third?
It seems like a shame her droid will not appreciate it when she insists in admirable human-spoken Aranean that she would rather kiss a templar.
[ nerf this ]
Video games are by turns interesting and painfully ridiculous. If there are manuals around she does not read them, choosing to throw herself in and learn to swim on her own. She quickly finds that she can deal with puzzles and rhythm games, even wastes nearly an hour draped regally across a couch and playing a sorceress battling her way through an army of sword-swinging skeletons.
When challenged to a fighting game she goes on a losing streak that stings her pride enough to have her scowling at the screen in front of her and everyone in the vicinity until she starts to figure out button combinations that lead to more powerful attacks.
"Once more."
There is nothing enjoyable about this game, but now that she starts to understand it she cannot leave defeated.
[ kiss of the spider woman ]
Training with the antitoxin injectors is her last trial and arguably the simplest of the day's objectives.
Though she is more accustomed to antidotes one can drink, she understands the need for a quick reaction time when poisons have been introduced to the body. On her first test run she deftly withdraws her injector from a makeshift thigh holster, primes it, and presses the empty shell to the area advised.
Her next run has her repeating the short routine from its beginning, this time on her sitting partner. As her injector meets her partner's thigh a generous sprinkling of glitter from her hair falls over the knees of their pants.
"You have been saved," she announces dryly.