faderift | { OPEN } The mood it changes like the wind

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{ OPEN } The mood it changes like the wind

WHO: Ellana and open
WHAT: Getting acclimated to Kirkwall
WHEN: Bloomingtide 4-11
WHERE: Gallows, dock, the city
NOTES: Nope.

{ the gallows }
It doesn't take much convincing for Ellana to take one of the free rooms available for the Inquisition's use. She's grown used to having her privacy and especially a nice bed, so when she comes with the second group in late Cloudreach, she's quick to claim a space. That said, there are times when she's amenable to company, even when not seeking it out, and she leaves the door to her room open so anyone passing can stop in. Sometimes she's reading cross-legged on her bed, other times she's playing her lute, the sounds of a bad note occasionally slipping through followed by a frustrated sigh.

{ the docks }
Ellana sometimes stops by to see friends who don't want to live in the Gallows, or to meander around the stables. Other times, she sits on the edge of the docks with her legs swinging, eating an apple or bit of bread as she watches the boats in the harbor. There's often a thoughtful look on her face and from time to time she'll look up at a passerby to ask: "How far do you think it is to Antiva by sea?" or "Have you ever been to Rivain?"

{ lowtown }
She doesn't expect a warm welcome at the alienage, but she mentions she's a friend of Merrill's and some elves are willing to talk to her. The fact that Ellana doesn't lecture them about how wonderful life would be for them in a clan helps, and when she mentions she's voluntarily left hers, there's a smug satisfaction on the faces of the others. But Ellana just shrugs and moves on, asking them about the city and knowing better than to show any pity for their lot. They make do, and she respects that.

When she leaves, it's still light out, but she has heard of the dangers of Lowtown even during the day. So with a wave of her hand, she sets the stealth spell she created on herself and slips back towards the gates at the docks. Maybe you're making your way back as well, and suddenly the space beside you that you swore was empty a moment ago is occupied by an elf with a smile.

"Hello. Heading back? Mind some company?"

{ for felix }
The Gallows is a big place, but there are some areas that Ellana frequents and it's not too difficult for Felix to find her when he needs her. Like now. She's just left the walled in herb garden and is walking across the expansive courtyard when she sees him after he's already spotted her. Her face brightens and she lifts her hand in a wave, moving to meet him.

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Looking up, Ellana smiles back and gives one long strum of the strings with her thumb before setting her hand flat against them to silence the sound.

"There's a reason for that," she says in a joking tone, looking down at the instrument. "I go through these long periods where I don't practice, and then I'm not very satisfied with my performance when I pick it back up again."

"Practice makes perfect as they say," he agreed. "But for what it's worth, even rusty, you play well. I'm sure once you shake the last of it off, you'll be holding concerts." He moved a little further in since he was not being turned away, glancing around briefly before focusing once again on Ellana.

The compliment has a rosy glow coming to her cheeks, and she sets the lute beside her on the bed as she watches him glance around. Her room is a former enchanter's quarters, but either they weren't very high in the pecking order, or all enchanters in the Gallows were given standard rooms and nothing fancy. Her room houses a large bed, a trunk at the foot of it, a bedside table, a shelf on the wall along with a mirror, one window opposite the door, and an armchair. It's the armchair she gestures to when he looks back at her.

"Would you like to sit?"

Serviceable and not to cramped. It reminded him of his quarters when he had been an ensign aboard his training ships, and also the dorms of Star Fleet. He felt a sudden, sharp longing for home, pricking at more more than usual for the span of a few heartbeats. He shook it off, moving to sit in the chair she had indicated with a grateful grunt. Being on one's feet all day hurt.

"Thank you," he said aloud, sighing as he let his legs stretch out, folding his hands over his stomach. "You know, I was thinking - whatever became of that sword from those ruins?" Not that he had an interest in acquiring it himself, of course, he just felt a natural curiosity about it. That, and it was the last time he had properly spent much time with Ellana.

"Oh, the blacksmiths found it couldn't be reforged," she explains, a light appearing in her eyes and she shifts to better face him. "The metal refused to cooperate. Some ancient elven magic lies on it still. But they've copied down the design, so now anyone can request a copy of it as a two-handed sword. The real sword itself is on display in the Great Hall at Skyhold."

For the elf from humble origins, who always felt cast off and useless, who was Clan Ashara's extra mage and dirty little secret who was never allowed out into the world, this feels like the most amazing thing she's ever done. Months and months of searching, trying to interpret vague clues, and making it past various traps had finally led her to a piece of elven history.

"I'm so glad that it's there as a symbol that the past can be recaptured if we just try our hardest to find it. That not everything my people have lost is necessarily lost forever. So much of our history is blank, or just rumors. I want to find as much as I can so we have a fuller picture."

The idea of not being able to reforge something because of magic boggled him a bit, but he kept it off his face. Why he was surprised by it shocked him, honestly. He should be used to such things by now. It had been a year, after all. But the delight and enthusiasm on Ellana's face drowned out his inward eye-roll over the magic.

"I'm glad I could help you reclaim a bit of it," Kirk smiled. "Though no offense, I would really rather not go down into ancient ruins again any time soon. I still have the bump from that mission." He patted the back of his head where he had smacked against some piece of broken statuary or pillar or some-such from one of the explosions.

"I'm really sorry about that!" she says, expression shifting from her excitement to concern, even though it was months ago now."I'm reworking how I do things now with that, and there is going to be a lot more stealth and trap searching involved. And, of course, I understand that it's a dangerous thing and don't expect you to follow me into one ever again. I really do appreciate that you did come with me."

That's unfortunately the risk with elven ruins, even when it's not bandits setting the traps. She theorizes that the ancient elves set traps as tests to whomever came after, because no one who wasn't on their level intellectually deserved to be let in.

"For now, however, I'm going to focus on whatever the Inquisition needs me for. I'm training to be more stealthy; to get in and out of places unseen. I want to be useful and hopefully not get into much combat anymore."

He waved off her apology. "Not your fault, and I've gotten myself into situations like that more than enough times on my own," he said around a little smile to assure her there were no hard feelings on the matter.

Kirk would compare them to Egyptian pyramids himself. You didn't hide something sacred in a giant structure and not put up protections, after all. The architecture alone screamed "important", which tended to attract the less savory crowds.

"And how's that's going?" He asked, his smile turning teasing. "Pick up any interesting gossip?"

"Ha, you would think so! But no, not really. It's just the sort of thing we already know: people are wary of us being in Kirkwall and expect a takeover to come soon. Others don't really care as long as we spend money at their stalls. That sort of thing." She gives a shrug. Idle gossip doesn't make for exciting reports, but you have to wade through all the boring stuff to get to the good stuff. And sometimes the good stuff comes from the boring stuff, so you have to remember that too just in case it becomes important later.

"Right now I'm practicing lockpicking. I'm not very far along yet, but it'll be something I need for later if a mission requires breaking and entering. Once I'm in, I can rely on spells to conceal my presence and get out with the information I need."

He was glad he was not required to put in paperwork like that anymore - or at least hadn't been for a year. It was the one thing he didn't miss about his life on the Enterprise. He wondered, idly, if he would have a giant pile waiting for him when he went home. And it was a when. Despite what Samouel had brought back with him from the future, Kirk still fully believed he would see his beloved ship once again, one way or another.

"Not a skill most people admit to having," he chuckled. There's that initial kick of wanting to protest breaking and entering without a warrant, but he was guilty of those things too so there wasn't a lot of leg to stand on. "So you're on the espionage teams, I take it?"

"I'm proud of it," she says, straightening her spine a little. "There aren't many things I'd consider myself good at, and I've been putting my all into learning how to be a better scout for months now." Her problem is she takes on way too many things at once so she ends up knowing a little bit about a great many subjects, but isn't really skilled at many of them. Case in point: her lute playing. But she's hoping to change that now with this.

"I think so. At least, I offered my services to Leliana awhile back, and she set me up with stealth lessons. I'm sure my name is on a list somewhere about being a person who can be called on to go on those sorts of missions."

"I'm sure you'll make a fine scout," he assured her, which he could hardly say for himself. James Kirk was much better at showboating than he was to keeping in the background, but that seemed a trait from most captains.

"Think you could teach me to pick a lock? It just seems like a generally handy skill to have on the whole here," he said after a second of thought. Not that he would ever use it for dubious purposes, of course, but there were things like get out of cuffs, or maybe he left his key at home. That sort of thing. Totally innocent.

"Oh, I'm not sure about that. Not yet, at least. I learned from Rachette and she's really great at it! You might want to ask her." But then again, it's not like it's really a hard concept to understand; just to master. "I mean, I could tell you how it's supposed to go, but I can't really show you because I'm still so new at it myself." It's one more thing on the list of things she wants to master, but becoming a lock picker isn't a skill one can gain overnight. For the moment, she has insufficient skill.

"Well, it always seemed like one of those things you just have to have explained to you, and then you have to practice with it. A bit hard to show someone since locks are, by nature, hidden. Or at least the inner mechanisms are," he reasoned out. The more he spoke about it, the more he thought it would be in his interest to learn the skill - for purely justifiable reasons of course. At some time in the future.

"Movies in my world always made it seem like you just had to more or less memorize the patterns of certain lock makers and you could crack just about anything."

"That's basically it. Rachette told me what was inside a lock, and how I'd have to feel around with the tools to push the pins back into place the way a key does. I've been searching around for someone who can make the inside of a lock, but with the outside of it in glass so I can practice, but it's not a common thing." Hopefully she can get one commissioned at some point.

"Movies? What are those?"

"Are there locks that are premade that you could buy?" he asked her. He wasn't sure he could make the lock himself, but removing a cover and replacing it with another cover? That was simple enough since he wouldn't need to mess with any of the guts. And then that way, when Ellana needed to start practicing without seeing it, he could replace the cover again or otherwise find an opaque surface to clip to the glass.

He blinked, realizing he had made a comparison that didn't make much sense here. "Oh, well - they're sort of like paintings, except a movie is many, many paintings strung together and flashed in front of you very, very rapidly. This fools your eye into thinking there's some kind of motion. And then you combine those with something like the crystals, where you can hear people talking. So movies are like talking picture shows."

"I'm not sure. I may just have to buy a trunk and practice on that." She lets out a sigh and shrugs her shoulders. "I'll figure something out." She can't always be sneaking around unlocking the storage trunks of unscrupulous merchants, like Rachette did when she first showed her. Apparently the guy was a dick, so she hadn't felt too badly about it.

She listens in fascination to Jim's explanation, green eyes opened wide. "I wish we had that here! I would love to see stories that way, instead of just reading them or being told."

"You can simulate them," he suggested. "It's intensive, but you can do these little things called flip books. They follow the same principle - drawing a series of still pictures, each a little different than the other to show movement. And then when you take your finger and flip the pages..."

He held up his hands to show the motion, like shuffling cards or thumbing along a book's edge.

"The pictures look like they're moving rather than still."

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{ OPEN } The mood it changes like the wind

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