sorry i'm late

Fandom Friday - Feb. 10 Edition

A lot of us are knee deep in reblogging and boosting info regarding Despicable Tromp and his minions, and although that is good, it can push our fandom interests to the side. It can also be draining. So in order to give ourselves a break and have some time to recharge, I’m declaring that every Friday is now reserved for fandom events to celebrate ourselves and our interests. 

February 10 - Favourite Character Day

- Post and reblog meta, art, gif sets, and fic about your favourite character.

- Post and answers some ask memes about them.

- Boost the work of followers and mutuals.

- Rave about you favourite character in a post.

- Whatever else you can come up with.

This is for ALL fandoms, but if you’re in my fandom (Dragon Age), whether you follow me or not, feel free to tag me for a reblog. For other blogs in other fandoms who have lots of followers, I encourage you to do the same and offer up your blogs as a platform for smaller bloggers to share their work.

Every Monday I’ll make a post with a different theme for the following Friday, but please, if you’ve got some ideas for future Fridays, drop me a line!

The Beach

Here’s my submission for @forduary, Week One: Portal


Seagulls circled overhead, their cries echoing loudly, clashing with the sound of the tide approaching and receding. Salt water sprayed lightly over him where he lay on the beach, eyes closed. The sand was coarse and dug into the layers between his clothes, a minor irritation on his skin.

If the man strained his ears, he could almost hear the sound of laughter, silly insults traded and teasing punches hitting shoulders. The man dug his twelve fingers into the sand beneath him, grounding himself. Opening his eyes he was met with a dull pink sky. One large orange sun hung at the horizon, while a second, smaller sun hung higher, a green ball of fire, giving off light.

Ford took in a sharp breath as his mind caught up to his situation. Raising himself slowly from the ground, he arranged himself in a defensive position. The sand beneath him shifted. He felt the grains slide beneath his collar and settle uncomfortably against the skin of his back. The saltwater spray still fell over him lightly.

What he’d first thought were seagulls were a different creature, approximately three times the size of the birds native to his Earth, but with similar appearance and apparently less vocal power. They cried out and circled above him for a moment before flying away, over the ocean and down the sand away from his position. Ford cast his glance in a circle around him, taking in more details of his situation.

There were no immediate threats. The sand seemed to stretch on for miles directly ahead of him. But as he turned around, his view was overtaken by a vast ocean. The water was a brilliant pink, the same shade as the sky but a brighter, vibrant color. It swirled with life as it heaved against the shore. The water didn’t quite reach to him, but it was not far off either. Despite its color, it smelled just like the ocean had in his home dimension, brine mixed with decomposing seaweed.

While giving himself a moment to process his surroundings, he allowed his mind to wander. The portal he’d jumped through had left him with a particularly nasty shock, causing momentary immobilization upon his arrival to the beach. It had left him winded and dazed, unable to move. But the sound and smell of the ocean beside him calmed Ford. So much he thought he might’ve hallucinated the sounds of their his childhood as well.

He’d have to prepare better for the harder jumps in the future. It wouldn’t do to be lost in a daze of memories, defenseless, while predators or bounty hunters locked into his position. Ford fiddled with one of the devices at his belt. It was meant to catalogue the relative safety and effects of each prospective rip between dimensions he went through, but the damage it had taken four dimensions back must have finally caught up with it.

With a sigh, Ford got to his feet and started trekking across the sand, parallel to the ocean, close enough to feel the light sea-spray fall over him. Droplets glittered down his dark outer coat. He mentally catalogued his resources and the length his supplies would last him. He trudged on, hoping to find either another tear between dimensions or settlement. The sound of the ocean beside him and the far off cry of seagulls and the harsh smell of decomposing seaweed filled him and had him reaching absentmindedly for the picture tucked away in his inner breast pocket.

He pulled it out and for just a moment he allowed the environment to wash over him. He could almost imagine if he turned around he’d see the same two young boys and a wrecked sailboat sitting on the shoreline as in the photo. Just then a sizzling POP sounded and the air was thick with the smell of ozone. About fifty feet away a dimensional tear was opening. This could be his only chance to escape this place. Tucking the picture back away he sprinted across the beach to the hole. Pausing just before jumping in, he looked back. Part of him ached to leave something so familiar. The rift before him sizzled and snapped, as if it were struggling to stay open. There was really no choice. Ford jumped through. He came into a bustling market, somewhere between stalls and vendors hawking their wares. He shook of his disorientation and kept moving. That solved his more immediate problems for supplies, at least.

But later that night, around a fire just outside of the settlement, Ford thought back to the beach he’d landed on. He fell asleep that night to the memories of laughter and adventure, the smell of the ocean still clinging to his coat.