folkooc | TFLN aka Tales from Folkmore

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TFLN aka Tales from Folkmore

TEXTS FROM LAST NIGHT

Welcome to Folkmore's Texts From Last Night meme! This meme can be used as a branch off from our Test Drive Memes and be used as game canon or just for casual fun in the setting! You do not need to be in our game or be invited to play on our TFLN. This can be a great way to meet current players for future invites, get a feel for the setting, or just have some fun.

This can be used for samples on our applications and used as spoons for players accepted into the game!

TEXTS FROM LAST NIGHT GENERATOR

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[in the meantime, she mopes and puts a dent in another bottle of wine]

Yes, I would very much like that.
What did you have in mind?

I don't know. It's YOUR problem here.
Get more drunk, watch a movie, start a fight, whatever.

[Clearly, he had no ideas in mind.]

[third bottle done, on to the fourth. she never thought she'd miss Oghren's homebrew]

Not just mine. All of Ferelden. I was to become its queen. I may get more drunk

You do that.

[That's all he replies, but he does show up at her cottage ten minutes later. He doesn't knock, but will walk right in if the door's unlocked. He's brought nothing of value besides a small jug of alcoholic cider from the orchard that's been sitting out for a month; he'd never tried it.]

I will.

[and she's rather blearily surprised to see him barge into her cottage, eyeing the jug and wondering what's in it

Hello. Decided that my misery deserved company?

Figured you wouldn't shut the fuck up otherwise.

[He doesn't sound particularly annoyed though, setting the jug down and then finding a spot to stand a good distance away from her and lean against a wall.]

It's cider. Might be rancid.

Perhaps not.

[and she's still trying to cling to the last shreds of her dignity that she can]

Might not be. [so she reaches for the jug, uncorked it, and took a long swallow]

Better than Oghren's homebrew. Never could figure out why Wynne and--and Alistair liked it.

[Looking at her empty bottle of wine, he has some idea of the appeal of that homebrew despite its taste.]

Probably wanted to stop thinking about stuff too...

[well, that was true for Alistair. but Wynne not only liked it, she could discuss which spices and ingredients Oghren had used to make it]

...most likely. We were wanted. Fugitives. For doing the right thing.

Contradicts your 'gonna be queen' story, doesn't it?

[How can they be wanted if his family makes the rules?]

No. [she takes a drink. and she sounds slurred, but not to the point where she can't be understood] My beloved is the late king's half-brother, raised in secret. When the time came to decide who would rule, he declared himself king and was accepted as--as such by the nobility. It doesn't hurt that I'm the sister of the highest ranking noble house.

But the previous king was dead and the man who left him to die wanted to snip off every loose end. Us.

[He's going to be here a while, it seems. Heine slides down the wall so he can sit on the floor. He's only staying so Mariane won't end up choking on her own vomit or something, so he tells himself.]

I don't know anything about monarchy shit, but power grabs like that are pretty standard everywhere.

[yuuuuuuuup. sorry, not sorry!]

Yes. They are. But we had no choice. We had to wrest power back into the rightful hands. There was a civil war to end. And the Maker damned Blight.

[A lot of these concepts are things he doesn't really get in a personal sense. He'd only been existing in the broader world for a few years, and even then, the boundaries of that were so small, things that affect entire countries are only for the history books if anything had been written down at all. The level of empathy there is tiny, like one might consider a vaguely depressing film plot.]

Shit sucks... People have said they went back, to the same time they left.

[At least one person had mentioned that on the network, but Heine had never engaged in discussion about it.]

Kinda pointless to fixate on it if it's not moving on without you.

[Like he'd originally thought things went, when they had talked previously.]

[they did. but since then, Things Have Happened. including someone who left her beloved to die which she just. can't comprehend. she can't understand a world without Alistair in it]

I--There are others. From my world. Not mine anymore.

[He snorts at that, because it's what he'd dealt with right off.]

Someone from mine got here before me, but from a different time after the moment I left... and she'd been to other worlds like this too. I don't know if there's one timeline we're both from, or they're alternate.

[He hasn't talked about this much, because it hadn't bothered him in any significant way, aside from initial awkwardness.]

I figured that happened a lot around here.

Alternates. Alternates. With Andraste's grace, may they be alternates. My---my beloved is worth a thousand of me. His spirit is brave, kind, bold, gentle, and strong. He deserves to live. In every Thedas imaginable. He is the rightful king. He is the rock that the recovering Ferelden can build upon.

["and I don't deserve to live" goes unsaid]

[Aw, shit, he's dead. The binge drinking makes more sense now. Heine would like there to be alternates, timelines where maybe things went differently and people lived, for those to be possibilities. It's depressing to think about, instead of hopeful, because the immediate thought that follows is an assurance he would have fucked up in every timeline. Being predisposed to pessimistic outlooks himself, he's not going to be very good at this and might make it worse.]

Fuck those other timelines, right? He's alive in yours.

[Let that be good enough. He gestures for the jug of cider.]

I'm taking that back. Slide it over.

[yes. in at least one Thedas, he's dead. Mariane can't help but look back on her own history with a bitter laugh, knowing that she'd done everything she could think of to make him ready to take the throne on his own. but. she always knew she had becoming his queen to look forward to.

even if she was only a mistress, she'd have taken it.

but she doubts that other Wardens who'd loved him felt the same.

so, Grey Wardens. together. even if it meant denying Alistair's blood, his birthright, his destiny.

and then Alistair's needless sacrifice in the Fade, followed by his death]

He--he is! He's alive in mine! We're getting married in mine!

[she slides the jug of cider over to him]

...thank you.

[That went better than expected, and he makes the tiniest surprised noise of approval.]

Right... So sitting here doing this shit isn't getting you anywhere near your potential if you want to go back.

[If it works that way. He takes the jug and keeps it next to him, but he's not going to have any.]

[she's afraid that she seems frantic. that and very, very drunk]

My potential...I thought I'd already met it? I did everything I set out to do and killed those who needed to die.

[probably for the best. she's going to have one Void of a hangover tomorrow, best not add to it]

['Kill those who needed to die' was all he'd thought he'd ever need to do too, but it's difficult to achieve with immortality factors.]

Looks like that doesn't count as potential to the fox.

[fortunately, humans and Darkspawn die much more easily and more permanently. the Archdemon, on the other hand...]

Then, what would? I know I need to bear an heir to the throne, but I can hardly do that here, without my Alistair.

Fuck if I know.

[That's pretty much all he's got.]

Yes. I agree. So, perhaps my king will join me?

[she tries to sound hopeful and almost succeeds]

TFLN aka Tales from Folkmore

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