WHO: Beleth and others!! shoot me a PM or a PP on plurk if you want a starter. WHAT: Catchall for VARIOUS SHENANIGANS WHEN: Now. WHERE: Skyhold NOTES: Nothing atm, will warn in headers if something pops up.
Beleth is not usually a heavy drinker. That's not to say that she doesn't drink, she can often be found in the tavern nursing a cup of hard cider or ale. It's just that she doesn't usually drink to the point of getting well and truly drunk. But this is a Special Occasion, in that Beleth would like a break from being a melodramatic miserable shit, and drinking until she forgets to be upset seems like as good of an idea as any. So she keeps getting drinks, and eventually Cabot makes a face at her and tells her to go home.
Obliging even when intoxicated, Beleth stands and heads for the door. She leans one hand against the wall, and grabs the handle, pulling it firmly. The fact that the door requires pushing to be open is lost on her, and she frowns, giving a few more pulls. After some thought, she pushes the door open slightly, which might lead someone to conclude she figured out her mistake--but she just uses the extra space to slam the door closed harder than before. This, surprisingly, does not cause the door to open, either.
This completely unfair turn of events just confirms to Beleth that the world is against her, if even doors refuse to work for her. The unforeseen betrayal proves to be the final straw in what she felt was some very formidable self-restraint, and she begins to tear up, rubbing at her eye as she kicks at the door, which stays shut, since she thoughtfully closed it enough for it to latch.
Cade is a bad friend, in that he hadn't even noticed Beleth was here until he heard the door slam. He's been sitting at a little table in the corner, sipping tea and reading a book, and he now sees the error of this when the small elf fails to maneuver a relatively basic standard of civilized construction. When he sees that she's just floundering and everyone else is just staring, he slinks to his feet and hurries over to her, keeping his head low as though that will draw less attention to the fact that they're about to be talking. "Beleth," he whispers, "you have to push it."
Beleth blinks at the door, then slowly looks up at Cade, eyes already beginning to water because of the cruel unfairness that is this door. But he recognizes that he's trying to help, and nods, turning back to the door with a determined look and an equally determined sniffle. She takes a deep breath, to prepare herself for this monumental task, then places her hand on the door and gives it a firm push.
Oh no... she's crying. This is horrible. Cade stands there stupidly for several moments as Beleth tries again, and, spotting the flaw in her approach, he carefully reaches over to unlatch the door. Maybe now??
Agreeably, she gives it one more push, and through the magic of basic engineering, the door swings open. Beleth's eyes go wide for a few moments, and she stares at Cade with the same astonishment that one would normally reserved for someone who had managed to accomplish something that was actually interesting. Now released from her tavern prison, she takes her first steps out into freedom.
Then she slips, falls, and lands with her face firmly introduced to the ground. There's a pause as this new event is chugged into her brain and slowly computes, before she rolls onto her back. She stares up thoughtfully into the sky, admiring the stars and the moon--weren't there two of those?--before she turns to look up at Cade.
"I'm dead." She decides, interlocking her fingers and resting her hands on her stomach.
"No--" Cade squeaks, and steps forward to catch her, but it's too late. She's down. He stands there for a terrified moment, clenching and unclenching his fingers, hoping and praying that she is not actually dead. Then she rolls over, and he searches her face for blood, his own white as a sheet. Is anyone here?? Did they see this, do they think he pushed her??
"Beleth," he weakly hisses, "...Beleth, please get up."
There is no blood! Her nose is made of sturdy stuff, it takes more than that to break it. Stuff like grabbing her head and slamming it into the ground, for instance. But what would Cade know about that?
She studies his face as intently as he studies hers, then seems to find something that she agrees with--or maybe she is just tired of the ground. Either way, she nods, and raises her hands up to him. Because she is not getting up from this ground without some kind of help. Whether she actually requires that help or not is a moot point, stop questioning her, Cade.
"Like an ancient elven spirit, wrested from my eternal slumber," She whispers to him, "I rise."
Not that there will be any actual rising unless he gives her a hand. Maybe two.
Cade knows a lot about that. He's thinking about it a little too much right now.
He's a little slow on the uptake, but when he realizes what Beleth's doing, he quickly kicks into gear and steps forward to grasp her hands, pulling her upright. Being that he's quite a bit heavier than she is, this shouldn't be a problem.
"Have you been drinking?" he asks, a bit suspiciously, voice tinged with dread. He thinks he knows what drunk people are like, but he never wants to assume anything.
Sure enough, she's pulled up pretty easily. She lurches to a standing position, and promptly teeters, risking tumbling over again, but grabs a hold of Cade's arm. Since he is indeed a lot heavier than her, he makes a good anchor, and she stays standing.
"Yes," She replies matter-of-factly, putting her head against Cade's shoulder in an attempt to get the ground to kindly stop spinning. Then she remembers why she'd been drinking, and her shoulders slump. "I drank a lot." She confesses, voice quieter. "Cabot made me stop. I wanted to drink until I stopped being sad. But I think I'm still sad. Everything is terrible. Maybe I should have stayed on the ground."
Luckily for everyone involved, she doesn't actually try to correct that, and remains solidly clinging to Cade.
This is alarming. He's never had anyone hold onto him this way, let alone lean on him, and although this is highly unusual for Cade, it's not... unwelcome? But she's drunk. He isn't sure. He stands still to allow Beleth to get her bearings, listening silently as she makes her confessions. "...why?" he asks, his voice gentle.
She doesn't move for a few moments as she thinks over this question. The idea had been to drink until she forgot, but she's not sure if she can drink that much and still be conscious. And while not being conscious is not necessarily undesired, she'd like to at least be somewhere private for that. But she's getting off track.
"I told someone I had feelings for him," She whispers it into Cade's sleeve, voice starting to shake. "But he didn't feel the same. I was stupid--no one's ever liked me like that, why would they start now." Her tone grows sullen. Not quite angry--more akin to pouting. "There's something wrong with me."
Of all the topics on which Cade has absolutely zero expertise, this is the one he's now having to field with a sad drunken elf hanging off his arm. Surprisingly, a small part of him wonders who exactly she was so interested in, and... what's special about them, but it's not really the time to ask questions or get weird. Not that it isn't always time for him to get weird. "I'm sorry," he offers helplessly. Advice isn't really his strong point.
Beleth doesn't respond for a few moments, shoulders trembling just slightly. Then she moves her head, so the side of her face is resting against him. Now free to speak more clearly, she stares up at him sullenly. Because Beleth happened to be great at advice-giving. Or at least, saying things that were comforting, which was close enough. Kinda.
"No, you're used to tell me that there's nothing wrong with me, and that I am perfectly acceptable to date." She explains, voice dismal. "Then I wonder, if I'm so great, why doesn't anyone I like ever feel the same way? If I'm such a damned catch, why do they always pick people who are apparently even better catches?" She sniffles again, dabbing her nose on her scarf, lest Cade have to suffer getting snot on his shirt, on top of everything else. "Then I realize that even if I'm okay, there's always someone better, and I'm going to die alone and forgotten."
She muses on that for a few moments. "I'm going to lay back on the ground. And stay there. Forever."
Cade tenses further when Beleth angles her head. He's beginning to look like a realistically-colored statue with a vaguely terrified expression. He has no basis for either relating to this or assuaging it, because despite perhaps having the occasional favorable feelings toward someone, it never even occurs to him that they might be reciprocated. He quits while he's ahead, invariably. But that's not what Beleth wants to hear. "Sorry," he murmurs again, this time apologizing for not saying what he's supposed to. But upon Beleth's decision, he shakes his head quickly. "Wait, don't," he says, "you should, um. You should go to bed." He's dealt with drunken brothers in arms before, he knows how this works.
Well, at least he got that much right. If he'd been about to let Beleth sleep on the ground, she would have had to really lecture him. Or, just go ahead and lie there, and lecture him tomorrow. Luckily, no one needs to worry about any lecturing at the moment. Beleth instead considers his suggestion, then nods. She takes a step away from Cade, so she isn't quite all over him--her hand still grips his arm, though.
"Yeah, I guess I should go to bed. That sounds nice. Um--" She hesitates as this decision is mulled over, then worriedly tugs on Cade's arm. "Will--Will you help me? I have a really long way to go, and I have to take the lift..." The idea of trying to navigate all the way to the Warden Camp was...very daunting. "I guess I could stay in Skyhold, but...I can't tell any of my clan what happened." The idea that she could show up drunk at her clanmate's rooms and not give them the full explanation is a concept she doesn't quite consider. "...Maybe I can stay in the stables. Then I wouldn't have to bother you."
"No," Cade says quickly-- he hasn't been able to get a word in, but when Beleth considers sleeping in the stables, or... worse, somewhere near him, he has to intervene. "No. No. I'll walk you home."
Cade is rewarded for his compliance with a warm smile, and Beleth quickly nods, rubbing her eyes free of any more tears that had threatened to spill. "You'll do that for me?" But if Cade has changed his mind between when he already assured her that he would and now, then he was truly out of luck, as she takes off for the gates with no further preamble. Beleth has the sense of mind to lower her hand to resting on Cade's forearm, so she appears to be escorted by him, rather than hanging off of him. This, however, does not stop her from attempting to drag him around.
He can't imagine why she would ask if he'll do that for her when he literally just said he was going to, but Cade can't pretend to understand the way women talk. He's content to let her lead, which is a good thing, because her hand on his arm is commanding all his attention like a thousand burning needles right on the surface of his skin-- not painful, per se, but pretty much all he can focus on. He nearly dies tripping over a loose brick, but manages to catch himself before either he or Beleth end up facedown in the dirt.
She pauses when he trips, teetering a bit, but he catches himself and she remains upright. "Did you drink, too?" She asks, tilting her head curiously. Well, he'd been in the tavern, after all. It made sense. With this new conviction, she carries on, dragging Cade slightly more carefully. But by the time they get to the lift, her mind has already moved on to the more pressing topic at hand.
"It's just--it's just not fair. It's not fair that the effort you put into confessing your feelings doesn't effect if you succeed. I tried! I know I'm not really that great, I know there's a whole hold of people better than me, but--I wanted it so much. And I spent so long preparing, trying to say the perfect words, and give the perfect gift. And I try so hard to be likable, to be nice and funny and accomodating. But it doesn't matter. I might as well have just said it off the top of my head. It's not fair." Romance is proving, much to Beleth's irritation, to be the area in which she can't simply act her way into someone's good graces, and it stings, because they are always the people she desires it the most of.
"I try so hard to just--just be good enough. And it doesn't matter. No matter how much I want it, or how much effort I put into it, I'm never good enough."
"No," Cade replies, mortified, and mutters, "I'm just an idiot" under his breath as Beleth drags him along and pushes forward in the conversation. He continues to plead the fifth on the majority of what she's saying, because any advice from him would be along the lines of 'just give up, it's not so bad'. Instead, he begins to phase out, Beleth's voice a patter in the back of his mind as he wonders if he'd ever have the courage-- or will-- to do something so brave as confess affection for someone. Is that something he's even capable of feeling? The chowder at lunch was really good today.
Beleth does not (usually) chatter quite so much, particularly so one-sidedly. But she has a lot of feelings and almost as much alcohol in her system, and she doesn't need an active listener as much as she needs to get the words tumbling in her off her chest. Preferably, at something vaguely peopleish, because that's slightly less pathetic than yelling into the uncaring void. Cade serves the purpose well, and his lack of commentary only improves matters.
There's a slight delay as Beleth stumbles onto the lift, and the operator glances at her, then lifts an eyebrow at Cade, but doesn't comment. Which is for the best, because Beleth isn't done.
"I don't get it--what am I missing? Is it my personality? My looks?" And Cade is clued in that he should phase back in when Beleth wheels around to face him, tugging at his sleeve. "I'm not--I'm not ugly, right? Do you think I'm pretty?"
Perhaps his reaction is a little slow, but Cade at least looks at Beleth, vaguely horrified as she meets his eyes and demands this opinion of him. Even he knows what a wrong answer would look like in this scenario. He's intensely socially awkward, but he's read his share of romance novels. "...yes," he says timidly, then quickly adds, "yes you're..." Is it appropriate to compliment her? Will it ever be? "...not ugly."
The operator turns and holds a fist to his mouth, but can't quite muffle the amused snort he makes at Cade's words. Even Jim admires your Smooth Moves, Cade.
Beleth's face just scrunches up into more of a frown, and her temper flares up, briefly, just enough for her to stomp her foot, causing the lift to sway a little. Which, in turn, makes Beleth sway even more, and she has to hold onto the side for a moment. But that doesn't stop her from snapping out, "But I'm not pretty. Thanks for clearing that up, Cade. Can't you--Can't you say anything nice about me without me making you?"
The lift finally reaches the bottom, and Beleth steps off of it, probably so she can stomp her foot on more stable ground. "Or maybe I really am that plain."
Cade flinches when Beleth stomps, and actually, ironically, seems briefly afraid she's going to strike him-- but his worry for that is quickly overcome by his worry that they'll both go flying off the lift, and instead he grabs the railing. "I'm sorry," he says anxiously, glancing down at the great height they still have to traverse, "you're pretty."
The tension in Beleth's shoulders loosens, as Cade acquiesces to her request. Or. Demand. Loudly shouted demand. She glances to the side, rubbing the side of her neck, anger now replaced with sheepishness, upset that she had become so upset.
"...Sorry I yelled," She murmured, and gently reached out to take his arm again. "Thank you." Her eyes dart to Cade, then to the ground. "...You are, um. Too. Well, not pretty, but. You know. The...guy version..." She paused, then without another word, wheels around and starts back off along the path. Bye.
Although silently praying for this interaction to end, Cade can't help but be affected by Beleth's parting words. She doesn't see it, but he goes a bit pink in the face, a detail that isn't lost on the lift operator. Jim smiles and begins the ascent, and Cade thinks about his entire life.
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Cade
Obliging even when intoxicated, Beleth stands and heads for the door. She leans one hand against the wall, and grabs the handle, pulling it firmly. The fact that the door requires pushing to be open is lost on her, and she frowns, giving a few more pulls. After some thought, she pushes the door open slightly, which might lead someone to conclude she figured out her mistake--but she just uses the extra space to slam the door closed harder than before. This, surprisingly, does not cause the door to open, either.
This completely unfair turn of events just confirms to Beleth that the world is against her, if even doors refuse to work for her. The unforeseen betrayal proves to be the final straw in what she felt was some very formidable self-restraint, and she begins to tear up, rubbing at her eye as she kicks at the door, which stays shut, since she thoughtfully closed it enough for it to latch.
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When he sees that she's just floundering and everyone else is just staring, he slinks to his feet and hurries over to her, keeping his head low as though that will draw less attention to the fact that they're about to be talking.
"Beleth," he whispers, "you have to push it."
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The door, still latched closed, does not budge.
"It hates me." She tearfully informs Cade.
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Cade stands there stupidly for several moments as Beleth tries again, and, spotting the flaw in her approach, he carefully reaches over to unlatch the door. Maybe now??
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Then she slips, falls, and lands with her face firmly introduced to the ground. There's a pause as this new event is chugged into her brain and slowly computes, before she rolls onto her back. She stares up thoughtfully into the sky, admiring the stars and the moon--weren't there two of those?--before she turns to look up at Cade.
"I'm dead." She decides, interlocking her fingers and resting her hands on her stomach.
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"Beleth," he weakly hisses, "...Beleth, please get up."
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She studies his face as intently as he studies hers, then seems to find something that she agrees with--or maybe she is just tired of the ground. Either way, she nods, and raises her hands up to him. Because she is not getting up from this ground without some kind of help. Whether she actually requires that help or not is a moot point, stop questioning her, Cade.
"Like an ancient elven spirit, wrested from my eternal slumber," She whispers to him, "I rise."
Not that there will be any actual rising unless he gives her a hand. Maybe two.
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He's a little slow on the uptake, but when he realizes what Beleth's doing, he quickly kicks into gear and steps forward to grasp her hands, pulling her upright. Being that he's quite a bit heavier than she is, this shouldn't be a problem.
"Have you been drinking?" he asks, a bit suspiciously, voice tinged with dread. He thinks he knows what drunk people are like, but he never wants to assume anything.
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"Yes," She replies matter-of-factly, putting her head against Cade's shoulder in an attempt to get the ground to kindly stop spinning. Then she remembers why she'd been drinking, and her shoulders slump. "I drank a lot." She confesses, voice quieter. "Cabot made me stop. I wanted to drink until I stopped being sad. But I think I'm still sad. Everything is terrible. Maybe I should have stayed on the ground."
Luckily for everyone involved, she doesn't actually try to correct that, and remains solidly clinging to Cade.
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But she's drunk. He isn't sure.
He stands still to allow Beleth to get her bearings, listening silently as she makes her confessions. "...why?" he asks, his voice gentle.
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"I told someone I had feelings for him," She whispers it into Cade's sleeve, voice starting to shake. "But he didn't feel the same. I was stupid--no one's ever liked me like that, why would they start now." Her tone grows sullen. Not quite angry--more akin to pouting. "There's something wrong with me."
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"I'm sorry," he offers helplessly. Advice isn't really his strong point.
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"No, you're used to tell me that there's nothing wrong with me, and that I am perfectly acceptable to date." She explains, voice dismal. "Then I wonder, if I'm so great, why doesn't anyone I like ever feel the same way? If I'm such a damned catch, why do they always pick people who are apparently even better catches?" She sniffles again, dabbing her nose on her scarf, lest Cade have to suffer getting snot on his shirt, on top of everything else. "Then I realize that even if I'm okay, there's always someone better, and I'm going to die alone and forgotten."
She muses on that for a few moments. "I'm going to lay back on the ground. And stay there. Forever."
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"Sorry," he murmurs again, this time apologizing for not saying what he's supposed to.
But upon Beleth's decision, he shakes his head quickly. "Wait, don't," he says, "you should, um. You should go to bed." He's dealt with drunken brothers in arms before, he knows how this works.
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"Yeah, I guess I should go to bed. That sounds nice. Um--" She hesitates as this decision is mulled over, then worriedly tugs on Cade's arm. "Will--Will you help me? I have a really long way to go, and I have to take the lift..." The idea of trying to navigate all the way to the Warden Camp was...very daunting. "I guess I could stay in Skyhold, but...I can't tell any of my clan what happened." The idea that she could show up drunk at her clanmate's rooms and not give them the full explanation is a concept she doesn't quite consider. "...Maybe I can stay in the stables. Then I wouldn't have to bother you."
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He nearly dies tripping over a loose brick, but manages to catch himself before either he or Beleth end up facedown in the dirt.
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"It's just--it's just not fair. It's not fair that the effort you put into confessing your feelings doesn't effect if you succeed. I tried! I know I'm not really that great, I know there's a whole hold of people better than me, but--I wanted it so much. And I spent so long preparing, trying to say the perfect words, and give the perfect gift. And I try so hard to be likable, to be nice and funny and accomodating. But it doesn't matter. I might as well have just said it off the top of my head. It's not fair." Romance is proving, much to Beleth's irritation, to be the area in which she can't simply act her way into someone's good graces, and it stings, because they are always the people she desires it the most of.
"I try so hard to just--just be good enough. And it doesn't matter. No matter how much I want it, or how much effort I put into it, I'm never good enough."
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He continues to plead the fifth on the majority of what she's saying, because any advice from him would be along the lines of 'just give up, it's not so bad'. Instead, he begins to phase out, Beleth's voice a patter in the back of his mind as he wonders if he'd ever have the courage-- or will-- to do something so brave as confess affection for someone. Is that something he's even capable of feeling?
The chowder at lunch was really good today.
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There's a slight delay as Beleth stumbles onto the lift, and the operator glances at her, then lifts an eyebrow at Cade, but doesn't comment. Which is for the best, because Beleth isn't done.
"I don't get it--what am I missing? Is it my personality? My looks?" And Cade is clued in that he should phase back in when Beleth wheels around to face him, tugging at his sleeve. "I'm not--I'm not ugly, right? Do you think I'm pretty?"
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Even he knows what a wrong answer would look like in this scenario. He's intensely socially awkward, but he's read his share of romance novels. "...yes," he says timidly, then quickly adds, "yes you're..." Is it appropriate to compliment her? Will it ever be? "...not ugly."
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Beleth's face just scrunches up into more of a frown, and her temper flares up, briefly, just enough for her to stomp her foot, causing the lift to sway a little. Which, in turn, makes Beleth sway even more, and she has to hold onto the side for a moment. But that doesn't stop her from snapping out, "But I'm not pretty. Thanks for clearing that up, Cade. Can't you--Can't you say anything nice about me without me making you?"
The lift finally reaches the bottom, and Beleth steps off of it, probably so she can stomp her foot on more stable ground. "Or maybe I really am that plain."
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"I'm sorry," he says anxiously, glancing down at the great height they still have to traverse, "you're pretty."
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"...Sorry I yelled," She murmured, and gently reached out to take his arm again. "Thank you." Her eyes dart to Cade, then to the ground. "...You are, um. Too. Well, not pretty, but. You know. The...guy version..." She paused, then without another word, wheels around and starts back off along the path. Bye.
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