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WHO: Delphine Cormier, and you?
WHAT: Hilariously irritated Delphine tries to keep her mind off of smoking.
WHEN: Begininng of Harvestmere.
WHERE: All around skyhold.
NOTES: mentions of nicotine withdrawal? will update if anything comes up. If you want something specific feel free to hit me up on my plurk or send me a private message!

Library

She's grown accustomed to the library, she knew which books to look for, the places and the arrangement. But she's kept to herself most of the time, avoiding interaction with people. Small talk could be useful, if she knew what she could gain from the other person. But more often than not, she didn't know enough about the people surrounding her to bother with getting closer. She's heard gossip about the natives, some about the rifters, usually nothing interesting. But sometimes she picks up on bits of conversation that peak her interest enough for her to interrupt, if necessary, or just bring herself closer.

But today was different, she wasn't here to soak up the surroundings or jam as much information from the books into her mind as she could. She needed a distraction. So maybe small talk was just right, seeing as the books she usually picked up only frustrated her even more. She's managed to go through the packet of cigarettes she came with, and she knew that the withdrawal was going to be ugly. As a scientist and doctor, she knew full well what the symptoms were, she was mentally checking off every symptom that crept it's way into her behavior. But her logical mind couldn't stop them from happening, as much as she wished it could.

After practically slamming a book shut and letting out a heavy sigh, she turned to look at the people around her. Taking the faces and general aura. Her hands brushed away her, now very curly, hair away from her face, trying to calm her nerves. Whoever the person closest to her was, will be getting a polite smile and a small "hello," her french accent very obvious, even in that single word.

Training yard

On her trip to find the right thing to distract herself, she's stumbled upon the training yard. She wasn't a fighter, her posture was horrid and her grip weak. What she lacked in skill she made up in sheer frustration. She was slashing at the poor dummy like her life depended on it. She's gathered enough money to get herself a dagger, but, sadly, she wasn't very skilled in wielding it. It almost looked like she holding a scalpel, something meant to heal, instead of a weapon. But in a real fight, she could possibly attack important arteries, she knew what would be lethal, but she lacked the physical capabilities to actually help her do that.

Feel free to approach her, maybe give her a few tips, or stay away from the obviously irritated blonde.

Healing tents

She wasn't considered a healer by Thedas's terms, she didn't have the knowledge about the herbs and potions nor the magical abilities. But she tried to stay close, shadowing the healers doing their work. She would like to take notes, maybe even record some of the procedures done, but she didn't have the means to do either. Whenever they were short handed, and needed very simple help, on the other hand, she would offer to help. Although some of the people came in would get confused or suspicious by her strange medical jargon, so she's been doing her best to take it down. It felt good to be in this position again, to care for patients and away from board meetings and manipulative higher-ups.

Sometimes, if the problem was simple enough, she would take the matter into her own hands. If it was a wound that needed to be pressed until someone came with their magic or strange concoctions to help, or just a simple check up.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

For the most part, Araceli has been discharged from the healing tents since she'd proved that she could move around with the aid of a crutch and even a cane on a good day. Usually someone has come to her room instead of her coming to the tents but she needs to get out and walk (or hobble, she feels so slow she can barely think of this as walking) when she makes her way to the tents and takes a seat on an empty stool, right leg stretched out in front of her with a grimace.

Out of breath from her efforts, she doesn't spot Delphine at first as she carefully stretches her leg a little more before she glances over. "Hola, are you new? Or did we meet and I forgot?"

Her smile is apologetic; the lyrium has worked itself out of her system, and her head is her own but she hasn't really felt up to asking about her earliest points in the healing tents. Hopefully this wasn't someone who had to deal with her when she was a mess.

"I am new," new to this situation, to these tents, to pretty much everyhing. But she gave Areceli a gentle smile, letting down the bandages she was arrangingthe table and made it closer to her. She took a quick glance over her leg, scanning it silently. She could guess she needed assistance with that, but it was rude to presume so instead she begins with a question.

"I'm Delphine Cormier," Her voice was gentle, but her eyes were fixated on Arceli's leg for a long moment, before shifting away to look at her. "How may I help you?"

"Araceli Bonaventura, normally at your service. Currently indisposed." The idea of attempting her usual sort of bow almost makes her laugh until she remembers how painful falling would be, and how much more painful having to ask for the help to get back on her feet would be. So no, she will owe Delphine a bow when she's more herself.

"The healer usually comes to my room, I pay for that since it only seems fair, but I am bored, and I am to walk and get air - the poultice needs changing." There's a grimace on her face and no small amount of trepidation in her voice because even though the wound is far better than it was, it's still uncomfortable to deal with that, or to have someone else do it as she holds out her left hand, the thumb still bound to keep it in place to heal. "I was told I can't do that one-handed without making a mess of it."

"It's good to meet you," her expression softens, and with that she listened carefully, before turning away to gather the herbs and start preparing the poultice. It wasn't something she did with ease, being someone that mostly relayed on modern medicine, traditional medicine was still new to her. But she knew the basics. In the meantime, she stays quiet, as to not mess anything up. She heats up the mix and lets it cool down just a bit before spreading it on the cloth. She brought it with her then left it in reach before dragging over a chair to sit near Arecli's leg.

"May I?" She looked down at her leg, hands ready to pull away the bandages. It was obvious she didn't need to ask, but bedside manners and all that.

Propping her crutch up so she doesn't drop it - or worse, have it knock things over, because she's very much over the causing a scene in the healer's tents days - Araceli takes a seat and carefully removes her boot, laced just tight enough to stay on, not enough to put any pressure on anything.

"Si," she murmurs, bracing herself because it doesn't hurt as much as it did but she doesn't enjoy it all that much. Slimy stuff being smeared over her leg. "I'm hoping it should start to scar soon. Then I have one less thing to worry about maybe." Or maybe not, until it scars she won't know exactly how deep it all goes but it would be good to get beyond this stage of poultices and bandages at last.

If only she had modern medicine on her side, an X-Ray would be perfect right now. Alas, what she had was herbs and strange mixes that smelled like something putrid most of the time. She let herself pull away the bandages, hands working in a clinical, almost systematic way. There wasn't a wince at seeing the inflamed skin or the state of her leg.

"Scar? How long has it been since the injury occurred?" She could cause from the state of her leg, but some confirmation could help her guess how long it will be until she was walking on her own again.

"Last month." Saying that is...hard. Harder than she expects in all honesty now that she has her mind back with the lyrium gone from it as she gives a tight smile, ready to explain. "I cannot give an exact date, I was-- I was not myself. Not for a while."

There's a soft laugh and a gesture at the two of them, the tent, the herbs; very much still not herself in her own mind but better than she was, moving forward, not back, not just stuck in some terrible rut so it will have to do.

"Did you hear about a group of people with shards who were captured? I was part of that group, it was back then at the end."

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