Fan Fiction: Dragon Age II

So classes are almost over for this semester and I’m going to have more time again to read and write. In fact, I’ve already dabbled a little bit on a couple of other stories.

Today’s picture is from actual game play but I found it at http://www.52miji.com. I’m thinking this site is outside the U.S. since I can’t read most of the writing.

Hope you enjoy!


Justice and Karl

Hawke considered himself a pretty powerful mage, but compared to Anders and what just happened, he paled in comparison. Whatever Anders had become, he was almost an infinite pool of mana that attacked the Templars ruthlessly and repeatedly. Man after man fell before them, too easily, until only one remained. As fatigue and injuries started to weigh him down, he glanced over and saw Anders still standing, still casting, and still glowing.

Only Karl remained stationary, that is until Anders, and whatever was in Anders, released a final blast of … something. Hawke wasn’t entirely sure what he did, but he felt it to his core. Anders would have continued his barrage, but Karl’s voice seemed to snap him back to reality.

Karl moved, looked around and shook his head, almost as though he had woken up from a long sleep. “I – Anders, what did you do?” Anders spun around and faced the man. The look on his face was something Hawke would remember for the rest of his life. Karl continued, his eyes emitting confusion and shock at what just transpired. “It’s like … you brought a piece of the Fade into this world. I had already forgotten what that feels like.”

“This … this bastard … ratted you out … to the Templars!” Carver stated in between heavy breaths.

The Warden was too elated to let the young warrior’s words bother him. “He wasn’t himself. Being made Tranquil takes away everything human inside you. He wasn’t capable of caring for me anymore. He could only follow the rules.” Again the warm smile and look on Anders’ face said more than what he explained and his eyes poured over the man’s features like a waterfall.

“I thought the Tranquil were cut off from the Fade forever.” Hawke stated as he turned to Carver. “This is what we were protecting Bethany from.”

“When you’re Tranquil, you never think on your life before.” Karl explained as he looked at Hawke. He then turned back to Anders and put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “But … it’s like the Fade itself is inside Anders. Burning like a sun.”

Hawke turned to Anders. “What did you do? Not the Fade part – the angry glowing bit.”

“It’s like a gateway to the Fade inside you.” Karl said to Anders. “Glowing like a beacon.

Anders frowned and a bit of the warmth and happiness in his eyes faded as he looked from Karl to Hawke and back. “I have … some unique circumstances, yes. But, Karl, what happened? How did they get you?”

“The Templars here are more vigilant than in Ferelden. They found a letter I was writing you … You cannot imagine it, Anders. All the color, all the music in the world, gone. I would gladly give up my magic, but this? I’ll never be whole again.” Karl’s demeanor changed from appreciation to fear and he released Anders, although the Warden tried to take hold of his friend’s hand. “Please, kill me before I forget again! I don’t know how you brought it back, but it’s fading.” Panic filled the gray eyes of the mage before them as he pleaded with Anders.

“Oh the poor man.” Merrill stated sadly.

Anders looked broken again and he shook his head. “Karl, no – you … you can’t ask me this …”

“Anders, I know there’s no cure for this.” Hawke started as he put a consoling hand on Anders’ arm.

“No. It’s like wanting to cure a beheading. The dreams of Tranquil mages are severed – there is nothing left of them to fix.”

“I would rather die a mage than live as a Templar puppet.” Karl said sadly. “Please Anders, if I revert I may … try to betray you again. I don’t think I could…”

Carver turned to Anders. “My sister called being made Tranquil a fate worse than death. Give him peace.”

Even Merrill agreed. “I would rather die than be Tranquil. Help him.”

Anders looked down, a defeated man, and his voice cracked when he spoke. “I got here too late. I’m sorry, Karl. I’m so sorry.”

Karl started to panic and moved back away from Anders. “Now! It’s fading …” Then he was quiet, silent. Tranquil. “Why do you look at me like that?”

Anders was on the verge of tears as he saw Karl die before him yet again. He gently touched the man’s cheek and then looked him in the eye as he drew his dagger.

“Goodbye.”

Karl gasped as the blade plunged deep into him. Anders turned as his friend fell to the ground. “We should leave before more Templars come.” He said as he walked away.

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Other Stories: Sanity

As promised, here is what I meant to post last week – severely tweaked but hopefully still enjoyable.

The picture for this week’s episode is from http://www.nationofchange.org from their article Fear of Terrorism is Making Us Crazy


Sometimes it’s good to be of celebrity status. Sometimes having a little bit of money lets you get away with doing things normal people can’t get away with. And then money can sometimes help you try to come to terms with certain things.

Marcus’ mind wandered amongst lots of things as he strolled the halls which he was allowed. His goal tonight was to figure out how best to not do the things that got him in here in the first place. True enough he was mostly self-committed, but that didn’t mean he had been in any less trouble.

It was either here or jail and he didn’t feel like going to jail. What he felt like right now was seeing Val. Yeah, he wasn’t supposed to.

He stood at the intersection of the halls that lead back to where he was allowed to walk and the hallway that led to her room on the other side of the building. Once again he turned right and walked away. Once again he cussed himself out.

Three weeks. He hadn’t seen her for three weeks. He had, however, met Jan. That had actually been an accident; being in the wrong place at the worst possible time.

He thought back on that day that he and Clyde were doing their regular rounds in his area of the complex when Vince ran up to them and pulled Clyde aside. Marcus couldn’t hear the conversation but he saw Clyde’s eyes widen for a split second before he looked at the athlete.

“Sorry, Marksman, we gots ta cut dis here short.” Was the only thing Clyde said as he ushered Marcus back to his room. Being in a hurry, he didn’t notice that he didn’t exactly close the door, so as soon as he was twenty paces away, Marcus exited his room and followed them…

…all the way up to the second floor stairs. The well maintained door wasn’t slow closing, but the men were making so much noise running upstairs that they didn’t hear Marcus running to and entering the stairwell behind them. He followed them at a respectable distance and then stayed at the door, holding it open enough to make sure he could hear or see what was going on.

There was a bit of a commotion coming from the second floor: loud voices almost screaming. He could hear Clyde and Vince, and the voices of others he didn’t recognize. Lastly, he heard a woman yelling, cursing, crying and screaming.

Marcus opened the door wider and peeked out to see what was going on. He saw a figure on the ground being restrained to the best of the orderlies’ abilities – even Clyde and Vince. Two other people, possibly nurses, were standing with syringes ready to sedate the person once the orderlies were able to keep her as still as safety permitted – they didn’t want to break needles or stick the wrong person.

Everything seemed to be getting better – or rather the restrained person was starting to wear down. And then the person looked up and saw him looking at the commotion. That started everything again.

Everything after that happened so fast, looking back Marcus found it hard to remember exactly how they pulled her hands off his throat. But he would always remember the gouges she left him across his face when her nails slammed against his cheek.

That was the day he was told you didn’t stare at or talk to Jan and you absolutely didn’t mention Val.

He grumbled. Everything he thought about was focusing on her. Frustrating. He was getting better at everything but that. He was purging himself – getting and staying clean and sober. He hadn’t wanted to drink or snort or shoot up or anything. He was only getting mad at himself; and since he wasn’t prone to violence off the field he was getting good marks on that too.

Oh damn it all to fucking hell that next thought better not creep up on him.

He started walking faster, his arms swinging forward and back as he moved. Think, think, think! Anything just not …

His mom and sister had been by to see him. Better. He managed to convince his sister not to postpone her wedding. He could get out in time if he towed the line and he was trying his hardest to. No fights, no rule breaking, no nothing bad.

No Val.

Damn it!

He clenched his fists and started punching the air in front of him. Wide swings, small jabs, upper cuts. Maybe he could beat himself up. But he was already doing that.

“Shit.”

He turned right again. He lost track of how many times he had come upon the intersection and how many times he forced himself to turn right.

Maybe it would be better if he had company with him. Clyde’s constant rambling helped him not to think. Maybe he could go looking for one of the orderlies – it was Clyde’s day off but maybe he could talk one of the others to sub. Only thing is it would be on the other side of the building, which is where he was trying to avoid.

“You act like you’re in fucking love you damned bastard.”

“No…”

No, it’s just infatuation. He didn’t know her, hadn’t interacted with her. She was something he couldn’t have so he wanted it. What did Doc tell him? Think of something else he wanted that wasn’t easily reachable, that was a challenge and let that replace her. That’s what he had to do. He could do it too. Right?

“Yes!”

He stopped. That’s the second time he heard that voice and it wasn’t his.

When he looked around he saw he was where he wasn’t supposed to be. Shit! Time to go back.

He turned around and stopped.

There was another noise. Soft and breathy.

He smirked. He knew the sound of sex. No one was allowed that kind of relationship here, but someone was having fun.

Curiosity got the better of him so he turned around again and started following the noise. If the halls didn’t have such great acoustics he would have missed it, as quiet as it was.

He moved as quietly as he thought a mouse would, listening to the noise and getting overly aroused. Whoever it was wouldn’t mind him standing outside the door and having a little fun himself.

Except, it was her door.

His brown eyes instantly turned green and he wasn’t hot anymore.

What the fuck? He wasn’t allowed to touch her, to interact with her and someone was fucking her? Oh hell no! Marcus quietly went to the little window and as quietly as he could slid it open. What he saw made his blood freeze.

It wasn’t the fact that Val was lying on the bed. It wasn’t that her hands were grasping her sheets tightly in her fists as she moved and moaned. It wasn’t even the fact that she was about to cum that freaked him out.

Any other time watching two women get it on would have had him climaxing himself big time. He knew that the person between her legs was a woman – maybe that’s why she didn’t like his advances. The woman she was with was slender – at least from this angle she looked slender; feminine hands would occasionally brush her long darkish hair to the side as she worked her mouth.

No, what freaked him out, in the pale moonlight shining through the bigger window on the wall was the sight of a dark puddle near Val’s butt. What freaked him out was who was between her legs. No, not who, what.

Wait, no! That can’t be right.

Wrong or right, whatever it was lifted its head and licked lips that were as dark as the spot on the bed. Then it turned its head and looked over at him. Literally. It looked at him: later he would swear he saw … no, that couldn’t be right either. Could it?

It had … red glowing eyes?

Fuck!

He stepped back, slipped and fell down onto his butt when the … whatever it was … was suddenly at the door. He could hear it snarl just under the soft sound that would have sent his head … and probably his heart … reeling.

He got up as quick as he could and ran and kept running until he got to his room. The panic that wrapped itself around him made it hard to enter the room having forgotten Clyde’s instructions on how to work the lock. As soon as he entered he turned on all the lights, pulled the blankets off the bed and tossed them in one of the corners, then haphazardly pushed the bed up against the front door. Quickly and hurriedly making sure that the closet and bathroom doors were open and dark corners were bathed in light, he sat on the sheets and blankets while he stared wide-eyed at the main door.

He didn’t turn to look at anything else. Even when he thought he heard scratching at the window.

What the fuck?

He stayed where he was and when the morning nurse came in to wake him, once she and one of the orderlies was able to enter the room found him like that: still wide eyed-still looking at the door and rocking back and forth in shock.

Other Stories: Sanity

Yes, dear readers, I’m posting early, but I have a feeling it might be worth it. I revamped this entry a number of times, I hope it goes over well.

There’s a bit of a shock or a twist to it.

Surprisingly I was able to find a good picture for it, thanks to https://www.wattpad.com/20191929-hidden-prologue. There’s some good writing there you might want to check out too.

Please let me know what you think of this next section. Thanks!


“I’m not crazy! I know I’m not!”

Jan stops short and looks at me, rolls her eyes and then takes my hand in hers. “No Baby, you’re not crazy. But you are upset and I can’t have you this way.”

I’m shaking because I can’t believe what I just saw. Well no, that’s not entirely true. I can believe it, I just can’t believe that it happened in front of Jan and that she saw it and she’s as calm as if it never happened or it was something that just happens every day.

Only this type of shit doesn’t happen every day!

And it doesn’t happen to me! Does it? I don’t remember.

She puts her arm around my shoulders and squeezes; then she kisses my cheek and looks at me. I can’t tell if that’s concern or … I don’t know.

“Baby you’re gonna have to calm down.”

“But ….”

“Deep breath. Let it in. Let it out.”

I breathe in when she says and exhale when she says, but I’m still shaking.

“I know what will help. Let’s go back to ….”

“No! I … I don’t want to go back to your room.”

“Why not?” She starts massaging my shoulders and my neck and normally that would feel good. Then I feel her breathing by my ear. I’m just staring out into space, I still can’t believe it.

“Then let’s go back to your room.” She whispers to me right before she starts nibbling my ear; right before she takes my hand and pushes it against her hot center. I’m just staring, I’m still trembling, I’m still not believing my eyes.

“They won’t let me.” I breathe, yeah she’s starting to affect me. “Hell, if they knew I was in your room …”

“They won’t know unless you tell them, so c’mon!”

That time with Jan was eight weeks ago, when she came to me during lunch, took me to her room and told me her secret. Wait, no, I’m not so sure about the time. I guess it doesn’t matter.

I’m not crazy. I know what I saw. But now it doesn’t matter. Last time I saw Jan she still told me I’m not crazy. And she wouldn’t lie to me. I know she wouldn’t. She has no reason to. Well, not anymore. I think.

I’m not exactly sure how long Jan’s been here, but it’s been longer than anyone else has. I also don’t know why she’s here – but I never bothered to ask her and she never told me.

I haven’t seen Jan at all today though, but I’m not really worried Aside from me, she spends a lot of time isolated – so she won’t harm anyone else.

They tell me they put me in isolation so I won’t harm myself.

That sounds funny.

Wait … what is today? When was the last time I saw Jan?

Today I’m actually in the common room, standing by the window, staring at the glass. It looks like I’m looking outside but I’m not. I gave that up a long time ago, when they told me I probably wasn’t going to be leaving here.

I’ve been here for a long time. Not as long as Jan, but longer than anyone else.

Where is Jan?

I wonder if she’s still mad.

They don’t know why I stand here, but I don’t care. Personally, between me and you, I stand here because Krystal comes after she’s done doing what she does. She walks up behind me, puts her arms around me and lays her head on my back, then she listens to me breathe.

She loves me, I know she does, even if she never actually said it. I mean, she said she can’t live without me, so that’s the same thing, right?

Right?

I can’t understand why everyone else tells me that I’m not living right, when she tells me I am.

Someone walks past, I don’t know who it is, but it’s not Krystal so I guess I don’t really care.

The room is cold and no one else cares. Not like Jan does. Not like Krystal does. Why can’t everyone be like them?

Jan must be above them because she can come and see me whenever she wants to. Except when Krystal comes over, then Jan leaves me alone. Funny how she knows when that is.

Jan says she loves me, not like before, like a daughter and that she’ll talk to her family and her attorney, but she can’t get me out of here.

Why?

Most times I don’t want to leave, because I’m not sure Krystal will know where I’ve gone to if I leave, and I need Krystal in my life. She’s what keeps me going.

What did I do that they would lock me up in here? I don’t remember.

If it wasn’t for Jan I’d go insane! Then I’d really be crazy.

If it wasn’t for Krystal I’d kill myself. I don’t care if she never loves me, just her being with me is enough. Thank God she comes for me.

I can’t wait to be with her tonight.

Other Stories: Sanity

As promised, here is my new story line. It’s a bit raunchier than what you’ve been reading from me so beware.

Like with my Savior series, please don’t take this for more than what it is. I’m not anti-mental health – I just write stories that come to me.


You know you’re addicted to a game when you start fantasizing about the characters; or when you start socializing more with them in your mind than you do with real people.

“What is it you’re trying to say, Val?”

I blink and look over at her, blink a couple of more times and then smile. “I’m sorry Krystal, I hadn’t realized I was thinking out loud.”

Krystal walks over to me. No, that’s not right. She saunters over.

Whatever.

She strolls, walks, saunters – it didn’t matter, she just moves my way and my heart starts pounding faster.

Krystal smiles, she knew she had me. Since day one she knew she had me.

“I thought you’re addicted to me, not your game.”

I laugh. What is it about these NPCs that attract someone? Is it the fact that you guess they’re not going to hurt you – in a sense? They won’t stalk you. They’re safe, they won’t try to come over to your house when you don’t want them to; but then again they won’t come over when you want them to either.

“Well?” She stops and stands right in front of me, in arm’s reach. I want to touch her, but I can’t until she says it’s ok.

“I’m addicted to the game. I’m in love with you.”

She laughs. Oh my gods, the sound drives me crazy. I crack a smile and watch her having a good time at my expense.

“I’m serious.” I tell her.

“It’s not love, my sweet. You’re addicted to sex and mine more than anyone else’s. I get you high.”

Her green eyes are bright as they stare into mine. Oh I am so lost without her.

“No.”

“No?”

I shake my head. “I can get myself high, I don’t need your help for that.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, but under her bosom, stands with her legs slightly apart, left hip extended, head cocked and gives me this quasi-irritated look.

And it’s not just any game, because you have characters in all video games, whether they’re online or single player and offline. So, why would you want to try to have a relationship with a computer program? It’s not like they’re going to drop everything and crawl out of the monitor to you.

“I love you.” I tell her.

“I know you do.”

“I want you.” My voice is hoarse as I declare that.

She grins. Everything about her is so perfect. I can get lost in her green eyes – the closest to any forest I’ll ever be. Her auburn hair cascades down to her shoulders and falls over her arms. It so soft, like her skin, and smells like … like …

Maybe an overactive imagination is how many writers got their starts? But you tend to wonder; when you see the kissing scene does it make you tremble? When you’re walking around and it just happens that the character you have a crush on winds up right behind or next to your avatar, do you start wishing they would put their hand in yours or wrap their arms around you?

I’m sitting on a couch, so she straddles my legs and sits on them. Then she wraps her arms around my neck and looks at me. Her perfume is an aphrodisiac. I would do anything for her, and I think I have. That’s why I’m here. But she’s here with me too, and it makes this so much better. I know she’ll never leave me. But I know she’ll never love me, not the way I want her to.

She needs me, she’s told me that much. Right now it’s pretty much enough because I need her too.

They say crazy people, schizophrenics, hear voices in their heads. What is the difference between imagining that an NPC is professing their love for you and what they go through?

Is it bad? Is it bad to wish that one day when you open a door you open a portal into their world, which doesn’t actually exist?

“How badly do you want me?” She’s leaned closer to me and whispers in my ear. I can feel her breast against me, her lips brush my ear, her hands on my back.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath and fight the urge to move. She can feel me trembling in her arms. I’d bite my lip for a distraction, but she’s already beaten me to that.

“Then tell that bitch to go away so I can take you … here … now!”

I take a gasping breath in and open my eyes. The ‘bitch’ Krystal just mentioned is sitting on a chair over by the door watching me. She’s actually sitting behind her desk, which is by the door, her laptop open and she’s typing on it. I’m not sure what she’s typing because I can’t remember anything either of us has said, if we’ve said anything at all.

She doesn’t seem to be paying attention to me at all now; she’s watching her fingers fly over that keyboard. I’m starting to wonder if I’m actual something from someone’s imagination.

“Did she saying anything to you this time?”

“Wh-what?” I freeze. Yeah I wasn’t actually expecting that.

“Normally you tell me she starts in on you when you’ve been here longer than either of you want. But you were pretty quiet this time.”

“I don’t …” What the fuck is she talking about.

“Did you fight a dragon? Rescue a princess? Have sex?”

“I think I’d better go.”

The ‘bitch’ looks at her watch. “Your time’s not up. Sean won’t be here for another seven minutes.”

“Well, then you can go and I’ll stay here and wait for Sean.” I’ve never had an accent but I’ve never been able to properly pronounce that name. It always comes out at ‘shone’.

“You know the door’s locked from the outside.”

I shrug.

“Did I hit too close to home this time? Does she want me to leave or do you?”

“Look, I’m tired, I’m bored, and I think it’s about dinner time.”

“Well, you have made some progress.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t masturbate this time.”

Wow! That just came out of left field. I’m kind of speechless. “I think we’re done.”