Malcolm Reed (
tactical_alert) wrote in
faderift2016-06-11 05:46 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
spare me your judgements and spare me your dreams
WHO: Malcolm "sulky seeker squinty" Reed, friends, you
WHAT: Catch-all of Justinian, also him fretting at his people after the Fade and completely trying to ignore the things that fuck him up mentally
WHEN: all month long unless otherwise noted
WHERE: around Skyhold
NOTES: Fade-related shenanigans discussed or glossed over, a couple of specific starters in the comments
WHAT: Catch-all of Justinian, also him fretting at his people after the Fade and completely trying to ignore the things that fuck him up mentally
WHEN: all month long unless otherwise noted
WHERE: around Skyhold
NOTES: Fade-related shenanigans discussed or glossed over, a couple of specific starters in the comments
The Fade was...unpleasant. It was unpleasant in the way that a demon masquerading as someone you care(d) deeply for is unpleasant, as facing your deeply embedded fears is unpleasant, which is to say--it was awful. So obviously he'd rather not talk about it and spend a little extra time to himself these days, praying, reflecting, seeking inner consul and finding it occasionally lacking.
Everyone else, on the other hand, would get a little more of him than usual to make up for the introspection, to account for those he's grown fond of, to take stock of the morale of the Inquisition in the wake of the Nightmare. And, apparently, in the wake of Weisshaupt, but details from that are slim at best at first.
Courtyard
Sometimes it seems as though Malcolm wants to do nothing but hone his already fairly honed skills, whether it's sparring with wooden pikes for swords, whacking at dummies with his personal sword and small shield, or trying to see from what distance he can still nail a headshot with his shortbow. Other times, his training involves his curly poodle, making hand motions for orders or barking out a few verbal commands in Orlesian through a makeshift obstacle course, or trying to get a certain battle action just right, or...playing fetch. Hopefully she doesn't bring you a slobbery training sword to throw.
Battlements
The reconstruction and repair of Skyhold has hit a few hiccups recently, from disabling rain torrents and hallucinatory illness, to many of Skyhold's leaders and workers getting sucked into the Fade at Adamant, to...so many little things that go wrong. But still, with enough hands, it's coming along well. Malcolm uses the high perch of the battlements to clear his head, take assessment of the areas of Skyhold that still need more work, and gaze out over the valley at the little tent city forming in the shadow of the castle, always peering at the horizon for smoke or for signs of approaching armies. Also found shooing away people practicing their bloody 'parkour', does this look like a playground, what do you think will happen when your broken body is found down there when you slip and fall.
Great Hall
There are precious few places within the hold that are quiet enough for him, other than the war room, personal private quarters, and the garden (and the small alcove set aside as a small area for Andrastrian prayer). So he's stopped trying to find the quiet and embrace the inevitable, settling in by fires with a meal and drink to look over letters or notes or other papers, sometimes sketched out maps, or reading books borrowed from the library. Sometimes he seems distracted, his gaze up but far far away, a frown worrying at his features.
Wildcard
Hit him up in places that also seem like places he might be. Bump into him sending off a notice in the rookery, heading off to early morning prayer, taking his horse out for a trot, assisting in building/rebuilding projects, throwing something together for himself (or someone else) in the kitchens...
Vasran
The memories are still fresh, only two years ago, right around the time when everything fell apart for the Seekers, for him. But the Nightmare drew on the fears of everyone, and he tries not to let his own inner pain show. No need to make it about him.
He's not sure where the mage Vasran was during the whole ordeal, if she was even in the Approach much less at the fortress when the rift opened wide. Surely it would have been just as terrible to her if so, and if not, then there's no harm in making sure she has come out of whatever latest project ongoing unharmed. Or at least unaffected by another bout of forcible truth-telling. In fact...
"If I ask you a question," he starts easily enough when he strolls up to her, a quirk of a smirk on his lips, "are you still bound to tell me nothing but the truth, or have we long since passed that point?"
no subject
"Are you implying I'm not to be trusted, Ser?" They are back to Ser now, but it sounds different these days, a playfulness underneath the formality.
no subject
no subject
Her expression takes on a curious tone, then. "You were in the Approach as well, weren't you?"
no subject
no subject
"I didn't even hear about the battle with the demon until after they'd all returned."
no subject
"It's not a battle I would wish on anyone but my enemies. That we won the day at all after everything had gone so wrong--it's better that you missed the whole thing, I think."
no subject
Hesitation. He doesn't particularly seem to want to talk about it, either. She is too curious not to ask, but she ought to tread carefully.
"...is it true the Nightmare was a big as a mountain?"
no subject
There is discomfort, of course, to think on it, and yet perhaps if he could speak to someone about it, it might release some pressure that's been rolling inside. After a moment of thought, his gaze distant, he nods and decides there's no harm in answering what questions she has. "Truly the largest demon, the largest creature I have ever seen. A mountain is a good analogy. A mountain with many legs and many eyes."
no subject
"How did you all get back?"
no subject
no subject
no subject
"I saw in there some of the darkest parts of myself and others. Do not envy me my chance to touch the Fade with my own hands. There is a reason it was not made for those of us still clinging to the mortal realm. Surely other parts of the Fade are kinder to the emotions, but not in the Nightmare's territory."
no subject
"I'm sorry," she says at length, and it is much more than a rote response. A beat passes, and she decides to attempt a bit of levity.
"On the plus side, no one actually died β and you can count yourself among the likes of Marian Hawke, and the Herald of Andraste herself."
no subject