In which Solas doesn't go crazy and Inq loves a narcissistic, sarcastic, hot-ass ego-machine that is far above his league.
Long live the Inquisition.
Marlow Parlen was not a pushover. Okay, well she was at one point. But those days were over, ever since she was exiled from the only home she'd ever known, thrust into a world spending its eternal existence trying endlessly to kill her. And she'd been just fine alone. She coped with finding out her entire life was a lie, her father abandoning her just to die a week after she found him. She'd done it on her own. She didn't need anyone.
And then Butch DeLoria, leader of the Tunnel Snakes, the bane of her existence, drunk-waltzed his idiotic self back into her life.
She can never find a break out here.
"I remember always hating birthdays. Another year in this hell is no cause for celebration."
-Lincoln said as he suffered burns from hot gluing lights to the walls of Boone's surprise birthday party room.
"Why did you ask me to come along, anyway?"
"I'm just a sucker for the hot and broken ones."