unbrokenoath: (Default)
Warden Kaisa Daesun ([personal profile] unbrokenoath) wrote in [community profile] faderift2016-04-12 06:04 pm

Life in Camp Shady Fuckers

WHO: Everyone living in or visiting the Warden camp
WHAT: Just some low-key action-spammy stuff for a bunch of sketchy losers who got tossed into the camp for sketchy losers. And the people who come to hang out because sketchy losers are the coolest losers.
WHEN: Vaguely stretching around Cloudreach?? Nothing is set in stone, time is an illusion
WHERE: Camp Shady Fuckers The Warden camp
NOTES: Just throw whatever warnings necessary in the heads of your threads




Just throw opens or whatever up this is a low-key general mingly kinda thing for hanging out and shouting at each other. Feel free to interrupt other threads or whatever and idk man this is basically like a network post but in real life.

twelvelabours: (Default)

[personal profile] twelvelabours 2016-04-22 05:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Even with the exhaustion and the pain, he'd be hard pressed not to crack a slight smile at that. Not as generous or easy as his usual, but a smile all the same. "What are you on about? I lost my third arm, didn't I?" His functioning arm (cautiously) pats the opposite ribs, as if to indicate the missing arm, before he shakes his head a little.

"It's good to see you, Kaisa. How've you been?"
twelvelabours: (pic#9941733)

[personal profile] twelvelabours 2016-04-30 09:40 am (UTC)(link)
He has a few thoughts on what punishment looks like, what bad things are and what they do to you, after a month jammed into a cell and feeling his body work against him with wounds left to fester and muscles wasting. None of them are things he really wants to bring down on Kaisa, no matter how dark and grim his mood might be. If the Inquisition needed them out of Skyhold, then the Inquisition was holding up their duty and their role in all this, the same way Wardens had to.

The jokes and the chatter are well meant, and so he lets them wash over him without paying them too much mind, focus set on other things, sudden sounds or familiar voices, and the way the mountain air bites into his skin when he's still so used to the heat.

"I'm okay," he echoes, though his voice is a little distant and he's looking about to try and gauge things. "Blanket'd be good." A frown, and then, "How long has it been? Since I've been gone."