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There's so much empty, now. The Iron Bull fills space, and now the space has nothing in it. It's too quiet and too big when it's empty.

It's harder to help other people remember the happy moments when you're sad. I always forget that. Sad takes up space, but not the same way. It was easier when I didn't feel things the same way. I like it better now, but it was easier.

I'm not even sure what to say here. She's gone

There's a festival coming. With costumes. I saw things on the TV about it.

I want to wear things. They want it to be scary, but I don't think I want it to be scary. Does it have to be?

Why do the pumpkins get faces?

Fuck

So, after Adam and I found a car to work on I went to go tell Dean about it, but he wasn't at home or at the bar. I'm guessing this means he's been sent back? Unless anyone's seen him?

Rhys is there, but not here anymore. I know he might come back, but I'll miss having him in the same space I'm in, where I can see him instead of just knowing he's somewhere else.

But I know if he knew me now he wouldn't hate me or want me to go away, so it isn't as bad as it might be.

I'd still like to be sad for a little while though, I think.

Well, that's done. It really does take more effort than I care for to exert my will here

Lux will be opening this coming weekend. It took a bit of time to manipulate the matter of this reality to make it just right, but I have to say I'm pleased with how it turned out. Still, it took longer than I would have liked.

It should prove an improvement on that hideously dark bar it was before. Whoever used to own it had excessively poor taste.

Oh, yes. I suppose I really ought to introduce myself properly, having been here now for some weeks. Lucifer Morningstar. I would say it is a pleasure, but I try not to make a habit of lying.

The recent celebrations were certainly lively. And entirely inconvenient for those of us attempting to read Even if I still do not understand the point.

Max, my friend, did you enjoy the company fireworks? I'm sure you found them very pretty.

Red,

I like these ones,

But these ones have more support.



Also that strawberry rum drink is great.

Cole, stop worrying. I'm fine. Although if you find me a dragon that'd be awesome.

I'm learning poker. No one has a decent Wicked Grace deck.

I'm not certain what to make of this place. Everything is too big, and nothing familiar is here in my room. The Maker is still silent, and does not give any answers.

Though, it is good to see old friends that I haven't seen in awhile, and even odd to hear that people I was speaking to before finding myself here have been here for some time.

Though, there are some rather interesting clothes here, and the shoes. Maker's breath, the shoes.

Whatever this is I didn't do it. It's important that we relay that information back to Cassandra. This isn't the Fade so it can't be my fault.

Sometimes it's easier to tell the happy from the sad back where I was than here. There were more people closer together, but the people had more of the same starts. The stories are so different here. The moments have no context until I look and then I don't always understand the same way.

I don't understand when they're afraid to be happy here in case it goes away when they're not here anymore, either. They'll still have had it now. There will be something somewhere that remembers even if they don't.

I heard a song and now it's always in my head. I'd like it to stop sometimes.

The Iron Bull has been sad. I'd like to find him a dragon.

[Filtered to Thedas people/Honorary Thedosians]

Me and Dorian broke up. Mutual decision.

Maker's breath, this is more than a bit odd, and that's coming from someone who wandered about the Fade. But hey no one's tried to kill me yet, so there's that. I'm Hawke.

...my sister was sent home.

Well now. Isn't this place charmingly quaint.

Oh my.

It is strange to be back here, after so long. It feels almost as if this was a lovely dream.

cullen.

Are you still here, my love? How long has it even been?

She's gone already.

Fuck.

I'm so glad it's finally feeling like spring. Thinking I'm going to just have a series of picnics as long as it doesn't rain. And maybe think about some outdoor art installations too, just to keep myself busy.

Anyway. Picnics. Who's in?

WHERE IS MY WIFE?

[ Filtered to People From Thedas ]

I don't think she's coming back. I thought maybe it was just a temporary thing. Make her older, and then she'd be here in no time. So I tried not to worry. Not to think about it. She was a fair bit behind the rest of us. But I don't think she's coming back. I'd already lost her twice. This makes the third time.

I thought mages always said that the third time was supposed to be the charm. Not the curse.

What the bloody hell is this?

When I get my hands on that rabbit, there'll be hell to pay.

Speaking of which. Anyone seen a white rabbit? In a bowler hat? You can't miss him.

[Filtered to Rhys]
There's a man who has a mark that makes him feel all his anger and it comes out and hurts. It's magic. I think you could help him. Would you? His name is Dean. He didn't mean to break the little house in town.

I'm bringing him pie. Not kittens.
[/Rhys]

I like how you can talk to one person even though you're far away and can talk to everyone, too. It's clever. It reminds me of how I used to talk. All at once but one at a time.

I tried grapefruit. I didn't like it. It doesn't taste like grapes and someone should change its name.

[ filtered: magical folks & law enforcement / not his brothers ]

If you've noticed that the gazebo in the park is a little...broken. I'll fix it. I had something get the better of me and I couldn't really get a hold of myself long enough to stop and I kind of got thrown through one of the beams. It's an easy fix though. I have some construction history so we're good.

So yeah...that happened.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and explain a problem I have and ask people with any suggestions they have to fix it. All I want to do get rid of this thing. It makes me dangerous to those I know and those who don't have a clue who I am. I don't want to kill anybody. This thing...obviously referring to a "curse" that was put on me back in my world...universe...thing. It causes me to become more violent than I usually am and might does have roots that date back to the Jesus-walked-the-Earth sort of days.

So this is my SOS since I don't have a nerd angel to call and my brother is being kind of a dick.

[ filtered: adam ]

I'm sorry. Shit went the wrong way. You shouldn't have seen that. How's it going? Get settled at the new place?

[ filtered: sam ]

I asked for help. I don't think it'd do a lot of good though. Hear you got a job teaching people to shoot. I'm still surprised they hired you. I'm still a better shot.

[ public ]

Got a job as a bartender. I still haven't figured out what anyone does for fun in this place. So steer in the right direction because I'm going a tad bit stir crazy.

WHERE IS MY HUSBAND?

It's hard with people. They can come back, most of the time. Change happens. Currents through a bed of stones, molding the shapes. Throw in a new rock, and it all goes a different way and may settle into something different.

But not all people will. They don't want to. Hearts in hands and jokes too big for their faces. It's never funny.

Nathaniel. I found another kitten. She has white paws and no voice because she was scared and forgot how to use it. He'll like her.

There are others.

( trigger warning: discussion of suicide )

Has anyone seen Anders? He didn't come home the other evening, and I didn't think too much of it until but I thought he would make it back some time today, but it's well after midnight, and I still haven't heard anything. Someone please tell me they've heard something. Please. I'd appreciate any information anyone has.

[Filtered to folks from Thedas who aren't Dorian]

Explain love.

I'm not sure how to feel about this place. A year ago, I would have loved it, a bit of adventure somewhere entirely different than what I was used to, but right now, I think I'm adventured out. Someone want to point me to a nice place I can relax until I get to go home to what little I have left?

There's so much here. All different kinds of hurt, packed up under skin and hidden away behind cheerful smiles. I don't understand. It hurts less when you don't pull the skin so tight it aches.

How do you help when you can mend here, but it goes back to what is written when things come around again? There should be a way to help that can carry through, or nothing can change, and then it's always like that. Skin stretched. Little cracks. Crying when no one looks. Missing when no one knows. Break down the dam and pull away the rot, but there's another built just ahead and no one knows you tried to let the water run free.

I can't make them forget it hurts at all. It doesn't work like that.

There's so much space when one stands where there was two. That's all they think of. The empty space, how it used to feel so much less empty.

Can we go look at hats today? I'd like that.

I didn't do it. That is all.

Maybe I did. I am not sure. The mark is acting up again.

This place is magnficent! It has so many shops, so many types of cocoa and milk! So many kinds of drinks. I have found one named tequila. It's almost as good at the stuff back home. So many kinds of ale! And everything is in one place! Most amusing.

However the doors are short and very narrow. Was this place built only for the smaller races?

I am called The Iron Bull, and yes, the horns are real. I really need to find some horn balm.

This whole vacation thing is starting to chafe on me. Don't get me wrong, I'm enthusiastically fine with none of my friends being hunted down by darkspawn and blood mages, so yeah, thanks for that. Less paper wasted on bad news. It's just—you don't get used to moving every few years without feeling a little bit like this is actually a Fade trick, and oh, surprise! You've been dead this whole time. No Andraste's fiery bosom to rest on, sorry.

Anyway, snapchat. We need this thing in Thedas. Can I bring it back with me?

(  cut not ic & (safe) pics ahead!  )

Bethany! Are we making a bonfire tonight or not? I found puffy melty things to roast.

Well now, if that ain't a sight I never quite expected again, I don't rightly think I'd know what was. Whatever's been in my food lately, I'll take it for dreams of places this nice.

Things may have been easier when all I had to worry about was a homicidal robot.

(  Seeker Cassandra  )

(  Cole & River Tam  )

You know, the last time I woke up in the middle of a group of strangers with no idea how I got there, there were much less clothes involved. Maker, that was a good night. Between the pirate and that lay-warden with the griffin tattoo...

So, does anyone want to explain this place?

I know some of the stories here. I've heard before, but I haven't. And you can talk from faraway on this. It carries through electricity. Like magic.

It makes noises like clicking when you push letters. I like that.

Some of the people here walked out of stories into a world that's more real to people here, and less to them. I wish Varric was here. Maybe he could meet his stories and see them the way he does in his head.

What is ice cream? A woman with her heart in pieces told me I should have some when I said he still cared.

Hello people whose faces I know. And people whose faces I don't know. The faces don't matter so much, but it's nice to see the same ones sometimes.

This is wrong. It isn't right. None of it is right.

Quiet. It's too quiet. So quiet it's louder than anything. That's a paradox. Quiet can't be loud except when it is. I don't like it here. I miss the sky. There's too much sound and the air tastes funny and it's all wrong. The ground feels wrong. It's too steady but everything's shifting. It makes my head hurt. I need to be in the black. It's too solid here. Loud where it should be quiet and quiet where it should be loud. This is why you aren't supposed to meddle with things.

It's all muddled. They meddled. There's always meddling. Shouldn't meddle, but they do. Can't leave well enough and it all turns to dust and ash. They can't know. Picking and pecking. Tearing at the threads until it all comes apart. Just apple bits left. You aren't supposed to play with things like this. Threads are invisible, but they're stronger than steel and they'll choke you if you aren't careful. We're stuck. Tethered. A different center of gravity. It picks and pecks. Clawing in my brain like tiny pinching fingers. Digging in and stabbing with little knives. All of it's wrong. I'm trying to work it out, but the equation doesn't work. Too many variables. It hurts my head to think about it.

Not safe. It's not safe to wander off alone, he says. But how can you wander when there's no one to wander from? Logical fallacies and paradoxes. Simple Simon. Wandered because he isn't here, but can't wander because there isn't anyone to wander from. I'd follow the breadcrumbs back but there aren't any. The birds ate them all. They'll get stomachaches.

How uneasy I feel.