faderift | ( open ) like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins

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( open ) like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins

WHO: Ruby Lucas & open.
WHAT: Following the events of the missing shard bearer plot (here) Ruby insists on being taken to the dungeons and held there until she is fully detoxed from lyrium.
WHEN: From a gently timey-wimey point in mid-September to early October, at least. She may be in the dungeons longer, depends a bit.
WHERE: THE DUNGEONS, Skyhold.
NOTES: Rumours page & OOC report details, although the latter is more likely pertinent to people who were on the mission/were told about the mission directly/the advisors than general gossip. Alsi new cr is welcome! Ruby's info sheet is here.
WARNINGS: Horror themes! Reference to the events of the shard bearer plot, which include the Wolf attacking and eating people, forced lyrium ingestion, hallucinations, death, violence, torture.

She’s never forgotten that she’s a monster, that the people of Storybrooke had been ready to take up arms against her. Ruby Lucas wasn’t the sweet girl who remembered your coffee order and fixed you whiskey neat from the top shelf on a bad day. She was a vicious, wild thing. The Big Bad Wolf.

After the mission she told them to kill her or shackle her, and when she arrived back to Skyhold she refused to go to the medical tents. It wasn’t worth the risk - keep her locked up, keep her cloak bound across her throat so she couldn’t pull it away during a delirium. She had to stay in at least a month, she had to try and keep people safe.

The first two weeks she’s still recovering from her injuries and the lyrium is still distorting her memories and thoughts and what she sees, leaves her with a constant thirst and the unhealthy pallor in her skin is obvious. Treating the injuries will be ongoing, but the first week she sleeps almost constantly, and the second she is struggling with memories. If people visit during this time there is ever chance of her mind taking flashes from other people’s memories though she can’t make sense of much of anything.

After that she can be found in different states.

She might sit on the floor with her hands through the bars, putting together the most basic, non-volatile components and mechanisms for traps, setting then all in a box to be taken to the Requisition officer.

She might be standing with rotten fruit sliding down the side of her face and splattered across her clothes, perfectly still. Either the guard just hauled the offending fruit thrower who posed as a visitor out, or they might have been distracted by another job so the produce producers are there to be chased off. Unless your character would throw fruit? But then they might be hauled away.
(Note: probably only two of this one unless we work something particular out, just because I don’t want to undermine the efficiency of the Inquisition’s guards at protecting prisoners, even willing ones.)

Ruby may have stripped down some and be treating her wounds and attempting to change dressings and apply poultices, because healers shouldn’t have to go into her cell, as far as she’s concerned. Vicious puncture wounds dot her skin, perfect circular marks that are mostly uniform, but vary in size here and there. There is a jagged gash over her ribs and a burn across the other side, which make her hiss as she tries to pull the rank dressing away.

Or maybe she’s just sitting or lying down on her side, defeated and curled inward.

Wildcards welcome, pick your own location-limited adventure and give me an idea of timeframe/if you are okay with Ruby picking up memories or not if it’s set during the first couple of weeks.

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Some fucked up shit went down. A lot of shardbearers got caught up in shit that Church has been putting small fragments of information together from this person, that snippet of gossip, from people involved in what became a rescue op. A lot of those people he's familiar with. Some of them are god damn friends. Ruby he hasn't talked to too much, but he likes her. They're from a similar enough world to get shit, and she's cool, and people like her or Cosima are a breath of fresh air.

So he's not at all happy, during the first week, when he's more or less not permitted to go down into the dungeon (the fucking dungeons!) lest he rouse her, wake her, put himself in potential danger. He's told she's in a delicate state, a fragile state, that visitors are not encouraged until she's begun to heal.

It's worry, concern, and absolute blood red anger that fuels him. Obi-Wan might be the official voice of the Rifters to the Inquisition leaders, but Church tries to make himself available to them all, tries in his own way to be a face of the Rifters (the past rift opening notwithstanding, was kind of a little bit busy in Orlais and with recovery). So the second she seems to, in a fashion, be getting better, he is going to be there at her cell.

A god damn cell like a criminal. She looks like death that didn't even bother to get warmed over. He wishes he could be surprised, but that seems to be a running theme with the tortured shardbearers. He sits himself as quietly as he can, cross-legged, in front of her cell. He'd been warned not to get too close, not to get within arm's reach. He has resolutely ignored that.

"Hey, Ziggy Stardust, it's me. You awake?" Awake, yeah, probably. Aware seems to be another thing entirely.

Despite it all, Ziggy Stardust gets a slow curl of a smile at the corner of her mouth, though it fades soon enough. "I'm awake, but I don't feel like Ziggy Stardust." She has to take a moment, fingers curled around the edge of the bed, to pull herself up. It's slow going, rolling up vertebrae by vertebrae, and she can feel sweat rolling down her back with the exertion and the pain by the time she's upright and facing Church.

"Does that," she starts, having to pause and take a breath, "make you a Spider from Mars?"

She doesn't know what's being said. Doesn't expect it to be much better than that she's a killer, though part of her has som uneasy awareness that it's not going to be that simple, that the others will make it twist around and try to paint her as something better because they're her friends. For a brief moment she looks glad to see Church, and she is, before it's overshadowed. "You shouldn't be here, Church."

It takes a lot not to react to Ruby's painful getting up. His smile is small, and there's a wince around his eyes. "Could be I'm a Starman and you're Lady Stardust." See? Bowie brings everyone in the know together.

But her drop in demeanor makes him...angry. Not at her, hell no, but at the situation. "Uh-huh, sorry, I forgot I wasn't allowed to give a fuck about people. I should be right here. No warnings from guards or anything changes that fact."

"Could be," Ruby agrees, with a smile that doesn't quite make it, and her tone not much better. "'Starman' is pretty catchy. If you aren't careful I'll try to make it stick."

His frustration makes her eyes close - not a wince, just very, very tired. "I'm down here because I chose to be," she starts, but she's too sore and tired to do much a job at sounding calm and not shattered, somehow. "They're warning you because I told them to, because I hurt people. Good people, Church, they're hurt because of me. You can still care a couple of metres back."

She also sounds like shit. Understandable. It's kind of a weird thing, knowing that these people got tormented, tortured in some way. He should be able to relate, he realizes, but all he knows of what happened to himself is second, third hand knowledge. Weird and fuzzy and distant. But he can sure fucking sympathize. She doesn't have to put on a face or sound calm about anything that happened. And he doesn't have to give her a wide berth just because she is or thinks she is dangerous.

"Yeah, see, I just got cozy right here, so I don't think I'll be moving anytime soon. I'm lazy like that. And cuz I don't really believe you're gonna hurt me or anyone who comes to see you. You shouldn't have to be in a fucking cell, Ruby. You don't belong in there. You're hurt, and you need help." And. And. He's got a lot of experience with this one, leaning in even closer. "Sometimes you hurt people. Sometimes you hurt people you care about. And it sucks, but shit happens, okay? And you'll hate yourself for a long time about it, and you'll be angry about it, and it's messy, and maybe shit won't ever get resolved. It just happens. And everyone involved's gotta accept that."

"You have no idea what the Wolf is capable of. It tears people apart, and while my memory could turn patchy from the lyrium I'm not going to take the risk of being out there so I can hurt people. Araceli and Avery and Korrin and Ciri, they all were attacked by the Wolf, and they're the ones that got away lightly." For a second her voice wavers, a painful crack that she's not prepared for, gaze dropping. "I ate them. They were Venatori, but I ate them and I don't remember. I can't risk that here. I won't."

Shaking her head, she leans back and pulls the cloak tighter around her arms, a needless, desperate gesture.

"This is where I belong. And if they decide I should be here longer, so be it. This isn't just shit that happened. It's people's lives. My freedom and my health aren't worth that risk. Nothing is worth a risk to innocent lives."

Sometimes Church is capable of moments of incredible self-awareness. Like he actually manages not to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. Because the first thing that comes to mind is how useful and awesome it would be if they could just eat their enemies. Yeah maybe consider that for half a second before saying that to the little red riding wolf.

"So you were hopped up on pain and crazy stuff, attacked everyone like, y'know, an animal in pain does. And yeah, you hurt some of ours. That sucks. Friendly fire sucks. Are you crazy wolfy now? Were you crazy wolfy before? Do you realize how long you've been in this stupid world without going crazy go nutso and attacking our own people? You wanna stay in there, feel guilty, and mope while you recover, okay, that's your thing, but if someone else decides you need to stay locked up because you're supposedly a danger, then I'm gonna get the sneakiest lockpickers I can and get you out of there whether you like it or not."

Despite herself, Ruby can't help a very very slight smile. She reaches through the bars after very gingerly scooting herself forward, and lightly nudges Church's hand with her knuckles. "You're a good friend, Starman."

She's not sure she believes him, isn't... sold on the idea that somehow she's blameless simply because of what was done to her, but she can still appreciate the words and the kindness. She appreciates the belief in her even when she's not sure she deserves it. It makes her miss David keenly, and even though she isn't sure there's a whole lot that Church and Prince Charming have in common superficially she's pretty sure Church is the kind of guy David would appreciate, in the same way he appreciates Leroy.

"But I'm not moping." Sure, Ruby, okay.

He doesn't move fast, doesn't touch hard, just turns his hand so it's cupping, lightly holding hers. He's not called a good anything, not to his face, usually. "Eh, you're still recovering, and you still hate yourself for going big bad. You're a little moping. Anyone else come down here and tell you the same? Cuz if they haven't yet, they will. Not in so many words, given how eloquent I am, but it'll boil down to the same thing."

She can't help quirking her mouth in a little smile, at that.

"Has anyone else told me that I'm moping, or that if someone feels it's safer to keep me down here longer that they'll try to bust me out?"

Her tone is amused, fond, which is definitely an improvement on where she was before. It means a lot, that Church is here. He doesn't have to be - but he's here, and he cares a lot, and Ruby's pretty sure they all need that. Rifters especially, maybe. Church, officially someone she will always invite to game night and ill-advised liquor testings, henceforth. If, you know, she ever gets out of here.

Oh, she's gonna get out of there. He's serious, he'll get someone to fucking bash that lock open if he has to. "Y'know what, I'm just gonna say 'yes' to that and leave it at that. You need anything? Some more blankets, or for me to steal something tasty from the kitchen, or more encouraging words, or, like, some really strong booze? Sorry, but if you need me to fuck off, that's not an option right now."

"I'm okay."

She's not, not even remotely, but she's trying to pin down a decent way to articulate it. "If you find any books or paper, that'd be kind of great. Not the easiest request, probably." Although, her brow does flicker a little bit. "Hey. I have this project I'm working on, in the cellars? Would you mind checking on it, for me?"

A little shake of her head, self-mocking. "It's kind of stupid, but I'm— Adelaide suggested I start selling some of the schnapps I made for the snow fight for raising funds for rifters and stuff. I just want to make sure nothing's exploded down there."

Books he can slip out of the library, paper's not too hard to come by so long as one isn't taking like an entire notebook's worth of paper without being a research-y paper writing type. That's all fine, but it's the cellar project that has his attention.

"You're making schnapps," he repeats flatly, incredulously. "You've got a still in the basement. You've got a fruity boozy operation going on that Addie's encouraging." (Just because Adelaide doesn't like to be called that to her face doesn't mean he doesn't think of her as Addie in his head.) "Dude. I knew you were talking about making tastier booze happen here, but I had no idea you had a little operation going. Yeah! Yeah, I'll make sure it hasn't exploded. I'll even, y'know, not touch it. To make sure it doesn't explode."

"And gin," she clarifies, with a weak, tired kind of smile. It's the best she's got right now, though she knows it's lacking.

She rests her head against the bars, ignoring the sting of the bruise lingering at her temple. "She doesn't like being called 'Addie'," she says, very gently, more a nudge than a reprimand. Addie is complicated thing, has a history, and it's kind of sacred and private.

But, still: she's correcting the guy doing her a favour. "Help yourself to the beers, though. There's some good Fereldan ones in there. My little operation has been a side project, but— honestly if I ever am okay to be out of here, I think I need something that isn't missions to be my main focus. You know?"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, in my head I shorten it. I know she doesn't like it. She likes all the stupid nicknames I try to come up for her, though. Or, she makes faces but doesn't tell me to shut up, so I know she likes it. A guy runs out of winter related puns fast though, lemmie tell you." Another person he hasn't spent a whole lot of time around lately, for one reason or another. When it was just Reds and Blues, it was so much easier to keep track of everyone.

"Did you get, like, permission to run a gin and schnapps operation out of the castle basement, or is this kind of more of a down low thing?" Just so he knows whether or not to keep his big mouth shut. "I mean, I'm assuming you got an okay from someone. But--y'know, Marcel bartended at the tavern, before he disappeared off to fuck knows where? I don't know if you met him. I think it's a good thing. To have something else to do. There's always a lotta shit to do around Skyhold, but finding something for yourself to do? Yeah. A person unused to this lifestyle might go a little nutty after a while without it."

"I quietly have a theory that the good Captain enjoys whimsy a little more than she tends to let on," Ruby replies, mouth tugging into a slightly warmer smile, a more Ruby smile, even if only for a few moments. It's easier to smile when Adelaide comes into it, kind of like the way you can't help but feel warm when drink hot cocoa in winter, and it sinks right through you, or when you smell something familiar and it sparks a memory that can take you back to something you haven't thought of in years - unavoidable, and written into how she works.

Ruby thinks a moment, and closes her mouth. "I haven't been keeping it a secret," she starts, canting her head thoughtfully, "but unless Adelaide got me permission," (not implausible, given Adelaide) "then I guess it is kind of a little on the unsanctioned side. I might need to find out what you even have to do to make a business legitimate in Thedas."

Not be psychopathic mage that likes to torture people? Except in Tevinter, probably. "Maybe I can make booze for the tavern. Full time moonshine manufacturer."

"Is that your nickname for her, Captain? Here I've just been focused on snow puns. Although, y'know, Captain Cold, that's always one." He does not at all mind talking about Adelaide, especially if it makes Ruby give a Ruby smile. "She likes to pretend she's a hardass. And she is a hardass. But a hardass that likes the sillier things in life, even if she'll never say it."

Rather than looking wary at the idea of being involved in helping make sure an unsanctioned boozery in Skyhold's basement doesn't explode catastrophically and set everything on fire, Church looks actually rather excited, bright-eyed (and had he a tail, bushy-tailed), a slick edge to his lopsided grin. "Oh my god. I am so down for cranking out moonshine and supplying the tavern and booze running like it's the fucking prohibition, but minus all the legal trouble since Skyhold's not dry. I'll keep it hushed up until you're ready to make your move." Meaning when she's healed more and not locked up in a cell.

Ruby huffs out a sound that, very optimistically, if you peered at it, could be taken for a laugh. Amused exhalations, the sound of the future. "Hey, I've got dibs on Captain. Pretty sure I copyrighted it." Does Thedas even have copyright? For that matter, did the Enchanted Forest have copyright? "She does. Just have a whole lot of puns ready, one time, and casually work them into conversation. It's worth it."

Not that Ruby had been casual or subtle about pun landslide or pun landslide ii: this time it's personal, but that's a detail she's pretty happy to ignore.

"Careful, enthusiasm like that and I might just recruit you as my partner in crime." Or, you know, legitimate business.

"See, I'm not that great with puns, mostly just nicknames and super lame jokes. But now I'll have to specifically craft some up to throw at her..." No, he's mostly just about the avalanche of dumb nicknames, none of which stick, and Captain Cold's a DC, so there, it's not a problem if he sticks Cold on the end of that!!!

"I'm pretty sure if you're entrusting me to your semi-secret, unsanctioned basement distillery, I'm at least an accessory if not full on partner."

"Accessory makes you sound like a sparkly tiara," she replies, faintly dry. "Which suits you, actually."

As soon as she can figure it out she will get him one, to celebrate his role as accessory to booze making.

"But fine. How about you think of whatever booze you've been missing since you got here, and I'll work on researching and trying to remember stuff from home, and maybe I can figure out a way to make it when I'm out. Deal?"

And he will protest, and bitch, and moan, and then wear it for Ruby and declare himself the most handsome princess. The bar fairy. For now, he wrinkles up his nose. "A sparkly tiara suits me? Big burly starman like me? Soldiers don't wear tiaras. We wear helmets, and do manly things, like shoot people, or curse a lot, or show off rad battle scars." So there, nyeh.

"I...huh." He has to think about that. He hasn't really...had any. He's got a few vague memories of drinks, memories that he knows now aren't his, and they didn't really have any drinks out in the middle of the Ass End of Nowhere. Which means, technically speaking, what he's had here in Thedas is all he's ever had. That's kinda weird. "Y'know what, you just do you and your gin and schnapps, and if anyone Rifter-y has any requests, I'll pass 'em along. You can jot down recipes and shit on that paper I'm totally getting you once I get up off this floor."

"You know what? If my friend Snow ever turns up here, she can tell you exactly how badass someone who wears a tiara can be." She pauses, and reconsiders. "Well, actually I can't think of a time where she ever wore a tiara in battle and she's never been a big crown person but she is the queen and she could wear a tiara if she wanted to, while swinging swords and shooting arrows."

It's still not as animated as she might have been previously, there's a flatness to her tone and she's struggling with energy, and even with that the memory of Snow is a good thing.

"Sounds like a deal." A little smile. "Remind me to fix you some cocktails when I've got the supplies sorted."

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( open ) like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins

Week 2

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