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[BoscoBread]

I've been out of school for almost four years now, and I still predominantly dream about failing classes or tests I didn't study for. I can't shake them. 

OMG. SO MUCH THIS.  That's pretty much constant for me - it's always - "OH hey you've been in this class for an entire semester, did you know that? Oh you didn't do any work for it?  Yeah, the weekly assingments were 75% of your grade and we have a final in an hour."

 

ME: What??? I Didn't go to a single class????

[CapricornSun]

The viking horns were just his halamshiral hat with horns on it. terrifying. 

 

I'm picturing it in my head. Terrifying but still sounds like fun. xD

 

I had one Solas dream a couple months ago.  I think I told you all about it. Solas and Merrill were frolicking through the forest and the trees were crying because they could not get up and frolic with them.

 

Okay, that was cute. It actually made me smile. 

 

I've been out of school for almost four years now, and I still predominantly dream about failing classes or tests I didn't study for. I can't shake them. 

 

Back in college and even when I first started working, I used to always dream about me coming back to my old gradeschool/highschool (they're in the same building, fyi). I'm not sure why. 

 

Now in my 30s, I barely have any dreams, or I at least don't remember them most of the time.

[laurelinvanyar]

And by weirder, you mean better.

It would have been MUCH better if he had gotten to the Dance of the 7 Veils part. Alas, it was not to be. 

[Siha]

No Kurt Cobain and Frosty's are difficult to top. (It was just a recent memorable dream, because, well, REM brain did a good job there.)

 

Dreaming about armor crafting, not so much.

REM Brain: Must obtain sweet, sweet fade-touched metals and leather and fabric! And craft Dalish armor everything! FOR-EV-VER!

 

 

?

[BoscoBread]

?

Out of likes but this is important and amazing.

 

Would play Dragon Age: Icons of 90's Grunge

[NightSymphony]

Cassandra Valentine for Colonel.  This was posted on the Dragon Age Facebook Page,

 

https://fbcdn-sphoto...ce9b89507e55acf

[Giton]

Spoiler

?

Oops, there goes my coffee.

 

And this might be the high point of my day. Nay, week!

[Siha]

Would play Dragon Age: Icons of 90's Grunge

 

Knowing my luck he would be a love interest for male dwarven mages only.

[Avejajed]

Spoiler

?

 

10/10 would bang.

[flabbadence]

Tell me more.

Andruils well would certainly be more..guarded, no?

 

Ok, I can't find any OTL

 

We'll have to wait for my action points to refresh.

 

It may be that the Silent Hunter and the Marquis are considered special cases and allowed to come close to the well

[Avejajed]

Ok, I can't find any OTL

 

We'll have to wait for my action points to refresh.

 

It may be that the Silent Hunter and the Marquis are considered special cases and allowed to come close to the well

 

I suppose I could just start over- I'll do that when I get home and play it again. God knows I'm not getting anywhere with my stupid new inquisitor.

[flabbadence]

I suppose I could just start over- I'll do that when I get home and play it again. God knows I'm not getting anywhere with my stupid new inquisitor.

 

Tip: If you've never told Morrigan to leave when she comes visiting before, do it this time around. The results have been very interesting so far

[tsunamitigerdragon]

. 

[Avejajed]

You asked for it!

Spoiler

Okay, so I'm at this theme park and go to the ballet class attraction which I thought was pretty lame (I'm more of a rollercoasters and frozen bananas kind of girl), but I agreed. As we wait for the class to start, they wheel in a whole slew on white, diaphanous ballet gowns, and hidden within them was a Solas suit. Which was creepy as all get out. The face character then presents himself. The best way to describe him is... like the ballet master in the Degas paintings. Exacting. Unforgiving. Prima donna. Perfectionistic. He tells us to put on the gowns, then sits down at the piano to play with a flourish, barking orders.

This is just too much for me to stomach, so I get up to leave, but as I do, the face character's limbs deform into something horrific only I can see, and this stage hand starts babbling to me about Tenebrium and the war table icons coming from an older game, their names coming to them later. They had other meanings once, but they were lost to time. I strike up a friendship with this stage hand and his dog. As I leave, I am followed by someone I can't see, but am unaware.

I walk to find my friends, but am attacked by a man I don't recognize wielding a pair of scissors. The fight brings us into the street. I try to fight him off. I throw gotta scissors across the way where traffic will soon be coming. The stage hand appears and tries to help me. But the man reveals a secondary pair of scissors and goes for my artery. I die.

But something's wrong, I'm not dead and I didn't feel any pain at my death. Moreover, I knew I was dreaming, so shouldn't I have woken up? I'm right where I was! The stage hand hurries the attacker out of sight to his personal work stage/ area where his dog is waiting. The two men sit down, the stage hand beggging him to tell him why he did ebay he did, didn't he know that the magic and method of killing me was forbidden? Why was I even the target? The murder appeared to have needed power, but couldn't explain the hatred and rage he felt at just seeing me and simply wanted me to hurt. So he performed the ritual on me.

That's when things got REAL weird. I felt so angry. So upset at the pettiness and irrationality of what he did to me. All of the sudden a stream of what feels like some horrid forgotten language pours out of my mouth. I see the runic letters of each word flak before my vision. The attacker doubles over in agony.

The stage hand at this point looks at the murderer with pity and tells him that this is the very reason he shouldn't have performed this curse on me - it was just as much, if not a far worse curse on him. He would never be free of me, no matter how much his pain would make him wish he was. I stop, frightened at the prospect. The attacker drops his head in his hands, finally realizing what he's done, but still defiant about having done the right thing.

The perspective then suddenly switched from my own to the dog's. I realize then that the dog isn't just a dog - but a demon having agreed to possessing/ sharing the body of the beat to prolong its life. This demon is fascinated by the situation. Intent on seeing how it can benefit itself, who it can make feel emotions it can feed off of. It remarks with some feeling that it hasn't minded feeding of the loyalty and devoted friendship of the stage hand and his dog, but the power to be gained from my plight and that of the attacker is far superior. The demon feels fleeting regret for his soon departure from the dog, but... priorities.

The demon catches whispers on the stage hand tongue about a thing... a golem or vessel of sorts he had been building that was almost ready. Perhaps, he whispered, he could put my spirit there. The demon practically burns with glee at the thought, given that I am still an enraged spirit. Who speaks words to a language better left forgotten.

And that's when I quit my dream because that was soooo not a road I wanted to see the end of. I kind of do, but it'll only end in more blood, more tears, more forgotten things, and more pain. Because that's what this demon needs.

Alright. So don't judge me I am normal I swear. Now I really want a frozen banana dipped in chocolate and covered in nuts whole waiting in line for the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland...

 

Listen there's really only ONE appropriate snack for Indiana Jones line at Disneyland and that's a dole whip.

[laurelinvanyar]

Listen there's really only ONE appropriate snack for Indiana Jones line at Disneyland and that's a dole whip.

I'm a funnel cake kind of girl. *shrug*

[flabbadence]

You asked for it!

Spoiler

Okay, so I'm at this theme park and go to the ballet class attraction which I thought was pretty lame (I'm more of a rollercoasters and frozen bananas kind of girl), but I agreed. As we wait for the class to start, they wheel in a whole slew on white, diaphanous ballet gowns, and hidden within them was a Solas suit. Which was creepy as all get out. The face character then presents himself. The best way to describe him is... like the ballet master in the Degas paintings. Exacting. Unforgiving. Prima donna. Perfectionistic. He tells us to put on the gowns, then sits down at the piano to play with a flourish, barking orders.

This is just too much for me to stomach, so I get up to leave, but as I do, the face character's limbs deform into something horrific only I can see, and this stage hand starts babbling to me about Tenebrium and the war table icons coming from an older game, their names coming to them later. They had other meanings once, but they were lost to time. I strike up a friendship with this stage hand and his dog. As I leave, I am followed by someone I can't see, but am unaware.

I walk to find my friends, but am attacked by a man I don't recognize wielding a pair of scissors. The fight brings us into the street. I try to fight him off. I throw gotta scissors across the way where traffic will soon be coming. The stage hand appears and tries to help me. But the man reveals a secondary pair of scissors and goes for my artery. I die.

But something's wrong, I'm not dead and I didn't feel any pain at my death. Moreover, I knew I was dreaming, so shouldn't I have woken up? I'm right where I was! The stage hand hurries the attacker out of sight to his personal work stage/ area where his dog is waiting. The two men sit down, the stage hand beggging him to tell him why he did ebay he did, didn't he know that the magic and method of killing me was forbidden? Why was I even the target? The murder appeared to have needed power, but couldn't explain the hatred and rage he felt at just seeing me and simply wanted me to hurt. So he performed the ritual on me.

That's when things got REAL weird. I felt so angry. So upset at the pettiness and irrationality of what he did to me. All of the sudden a stream of what feels like some horrid forgotten language pours out of my mouth. I see the runic letters of each word flak before my vision. The attacker doubles over in agony.

The stage hand at this point looks at the murderer with pity and tells him that this is the very reason he shouldn't have performed this curse on me - it was just as much, if not a far worse curse on him. He would never be free of me, no matter how much his pain would make him wish he was. I stop, frightened at the prospect. The attacker drops his head in his hands, finally realizing what he's done, but still defiant about having done the right thing.

The perspective then suddenly switched from my own to the dog's. I realize then that the dog isn't just a dog - but a demon having agreed to possessing/ sharing the body of the beat to prolong its life. This demon is fascinated by the situation. Intent on seeing how it can benefit itself, who it can make feel emotions it can feed off of. It remarks with some feeling that it hasn't minded feeding of the loyalty and devoted friendship of the stage hand and his dog, but the power to be gained from my plight and that of the attacker is far superior. The demon feels fleeting regret for his soon departure from the dog, but... priorities.

The demon catches whispers on the stage hand tongue about a thing... a golem or vessel of sorts he had been building that was almost ready. Perhaps, he whispered, he could put my spirit there. The demon practically burns with glee at the thought, given that I am still an enraged spirit. Who speaks words to a language better left forgotten.

And that's when I quit my dream because that was soooo not a road I wanted to see the end of. I kind of do, but it'll only end in more blood, more tears, more forgotten things, and more pain. Because that's what this demon needs.

Alright. So don't judge me I am normal I swear. Now I really want a frozen banana dipped in chocolate and covered in nuts whole waiting in line for the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland...

 

It occurs to me that it is now 1:30AM here and I will have to turn off the lights and sleep soon.

 

I need some of that ice cream too

[Rabbitonfire]

I'm a funnel cake kind of girl. *shrug*

My kind of woman. Would you like to goto the prom-coming with me?

[laurelinvanyar]

You asked for it!

Spoiler

Okay, so I'm at this theme park and go to the ballet class attraction which I thought was pretty lame (I'm more of a rollercoasters and frozen bananas kind of girl), but I agreed. As we wait for the class to start, they wheel in a whole slew on white, diaphanous ballet gowns, and hidden within them was a Solas suit. Which was creepy as all get out. The face character then presents himself. The best way to describe him is... like the ballet master in the Degas paintings. Exacting. Unforgiving. Prima donna. Perfectionistic. He tells us to put on the gowns, then sits down at the piano to play with a flourish, barking orders.

This is just too much for me to stomach, so I get up to leave, but as I do, the face character's limbs deform into something horrific only I can see, and this stage hand starts babbling to me about Tenebrium and the war table icons coming from an older game, their names coming to them later. They had other meanings once, but they were lost to time. I strike up a friendship with this stage hand and his dog. As I leave, I am followed by someone I can't see, but am unaware.

I walk to find my friends, but am attacked by a man I don't recognize wielding a pair of scissors. The fight brings us into the street. I try to fight him off. I throw gotta scissors across the way where traffic will soon be coming. The stage hand appears and tries to help me. But the man reveals a secondary pair of scissors and goes for my artery. I die.

But something's wrong, I'm not dead and I didn't feel any pain at my death. Moreover, I knew I was dreaming, so shouldn't I have woken up? I'm right where I was! The stage hand hurries the attacker out of sight to his personal work stage/ area where his dog is waiting. The two men sit down, the stage hand beggging him to tell him why he did ebay he did, didn't he know that the magic and method of killing me was forbidden? Why was I even the target? The murder appeared to have needed power, but couldn't explain the hatred and rage he felt at just seeing me and simply wanted me to hurt. So he performed the ritual on me.

That's when things got REAL weird. I felt so angry. So upset at the pettiness and irrationality of what he did to me. All of the sudden a stream of what feels like some horrid forgotten language pours out of my mouth. I see the runic letters of each word flak before my vision. The attacker doubles over in agony.

The stage hand at this point looks at the murderer with pity and tells him that this is the very reason he shouldn't have performed this curse on me - it was just as much, if not a far worse curse on him. He would never be free of me, no matter how much his pain would make him wish he was. I stop, frightened at the prospect. The attacker drops his head in his hands, finally realizing what he's done, but still defiant about having done the right thing.

The perspective then suddenly switched from my own to the dog's. I realize then that the dog isn't just a dog - but a demon having agreed to possessing/ sharing the body of the beat to prolong its life. This demon is fascinated by the situation. Intent on seeing how it can benefit itself, who it can make feel emotions it can feed off of. It remarks with some feeling that it hasn't minded feeding of the loyalty and devoted friendship of the stage hand and his dog, but the power to be gained from my plight and that of the attacker is far superior. The demon feels fleeting regret for his soon departure from the dog, but... priorities.

The demon catches whispers on the stage hand tongue about a thing... a golem or vessel of sorts he had been building that was almost ready. Perhaps, he whispered, he could put my spirit there. The demon practically burns with glee at the thought, given that I am still an enraged spirit. Who speaks words to a language better left forgotten.

And that's when I quit my dream because that was soooo not a road I wanted to see the end of. I kind of do, but it'll only end in more blood, more tears, more forgotten things, and more pain. Because that's what this demon needs.

Alright. So don't judge me I am normal I swear. Now I really want a frozen banana dipped in chocolate and covered in nuts whole waiting in line for the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland...

Liz, I could perfectly picture Solas being an exacting director/stage manager. I bet this is what he does in the fade. He choreographs/directs spirits in Fade-Tony winning musicals and ballets. 

[tsunamitigerdragon]

.

[BoscoBread]

You asked for it!

Spoiler

Okay, so I'm at this theme park and go to the ballet class attraction which I thought was pretty lame (I'm more of a rollercoasters and frozen bananas kind of girl), but I agreed. As we wait for the class to start, they wheel in a whole slew on white, diaphanous ballet gowns, and hidden within them was a Solas suit. Which was creepy as all get out. The face character then presents himself. The best way to describe him is... like the ballet master in the Degas paintings. Exacting. Unforgiving. Prima donna. Perfectionistic. He tells us to put on the gowns, then sits down at the piano to play with a flourish, barking orders.

This is just too much for me to stomach, so I get up to leave, but as I do, the face character's limbs deform into something horrific only I can see, and this stage hand starts babbling to me about Tenebrium and the war table icons coming from an older game, their names coming to them later. They had other meanings once, but they were lost to time. I strike up a friendship with this stage hand and his dog. As I leave, I am followed by someone I can't see, but am unaware.

I walk to find my friends, but am attacked by a man I don't recognize wielding a pair of scissors. The fight brings us into the street. I try to fight him off. I throw his scissors across the way where traffic will soon be coming. The stage hand appears and tries to help me. But the man reveals a secondary pair of scissors and goes for my artery. I die.

But something's wrong, I'm not dead and I didn't feel any pain at my death. Moreover, I knew I was dreaming, so shouldn't I have woken up? I'm right where I was! The stage hand hurries the attacker out of sight to his personal work stage/ area where his dog is waiting. The two men sit down, the stage hand beggging him to tell him why he did what he did, didn't he know that the magic and method of killing me was forbidden? Why was I even the target? The murderer appeared to have needed power, but couldn't explain the hatred and rage he felt at just seeing me and simply wanting me to hurt. So he performed the ritual on me.

That's when things got REAL weird. I felt so angry. So upset at the pettiness and irrationality of what he did to me. All of the sudden a stream of what feels like some horrid forgotten language pours out of my mouth. I see the runic letters of each word flash before my vision. The attacker doubles over in agony.

The stage hand at this point looks at the murderer with pity and tells him that this is the very reason he shouldn't have performed this curse on me - it was just as much, if not a far worse curse on him. He would never be free of me, no matter how much his pain would make him wish he was. I stop, frightened at the prospect. The attacker drops his head in his hands, finally realizing what he's done, but still defiant about having done the right thing in his twisted logic.

The perspective then suddenly switched from my own to the dog's. I realize then that the dog isn't just a dog - but a demon having agreed to possessing/ sharing the body of the beast to prolong its life. This demon is fascinated by the situation. Intent on seeing how it can benefit itself, who it can make feel emotions it can feed off of. It remarks with some feeling that it hasn't minded feeding of the loyalty and devoted friendship of the stage hand and his dog, but the power to be gained from my plight and that of the attacker is far superior. The demon feels fleeting regret for his soon departure from the dog, but... priorities.

The demon catches whispers on the stage hand tongue about a thing... a golem or vessel of sorts he had been building that was almost ready. Perhaps, he whispered, he could put my spirit there. The demon practically burns with glee at the thought, given that I am still an enraged spirit. Who speaks words to a language better left forgotten.

And that's when I quit my dream because that was soooo not a road I wanted to see the end of. I kind of do, but it'll only end in more blood, more tears, more forgotten things, and more pain. Because that's what this demon needs.

Alright. So don't judge me I am normal I swear. Now I really want a frozen banana dipped in chocolate and covered in nuts whole waiting in line for the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland...

"like the ballet master in the Degas paintings. Exacting. Unforgiving. Prima donna. Perfectionistic. He tells us to put on the gowns, then sits down at the piano to play with a flourish, barking orders."

 

I feel like this fits Solas kind of perfectly, though.  Like this insane twisted version of him.  A magnification of some of his worst qualities. 

[Avejajed]

Ughhh you're right! I had forgotten about those right by the Tiki room! .... Why not both?

 

Ew, no. 

 

Here, have this stuck in your head all day.

 

[tsunamitigerdragon]

. 

[tsunamitigerdragon]

. 

[BoscoBread]

I know, right? I think that's why I felt to disturbed when I saw it. It was a gross caricature. An overstatement. But the truth of it sat like a sick pit in my stomach. The way any horrible truth about ourselves when portrayed with such overarching simplicity makes us ill.

Out of likes - but 100% this.

[Avejajed]

NO. NO. It's a Small World is only slightly wise than the horrors of the Tiki Room!