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Entry tags:
— (open) do you see it clearer
WHO: Ciri + OPEN
WHAT: In which Ciri is a huge dork about love, is adopted by birds and fights a drunk among other fun adventures
WHEN: Beginnings of August
WHERE: Kirkwall, various
NOTES: Nothing to mention, will update as needed if anything does come up.
WHAT: In which Ciri is a huge dork about love, is adopted by birds and fights a drunk among other fun adventures
WHEN: Beginnings of August
WHERE: Kirkwall, various
NOTES: Nothing to mention, will update as needed if anything does come up.
— ｇａｌｌｏｗｓ.It's not an unfamiliar sight these days to see the ashen-haired Warden practicing in the area segregated off for training. Usually she gets helps from the many of the Inquisition foot soldiers wandering about to practice with or perhaps even one of her mage friends. Today is no different except that the person Ciri is training with is not such a familiar sight on this side of the Gallows, armed with a pair of daggers in hand and holding off the strikes from a long-sword. It's not the usual sort of practice, as Ciri yells commands every so often and follows up with timed strikes from someone who is clearly teaching rather than pushing all of her skill into the session.
Avery, the Inquisition's Head Cook to some, seems to be holding up well under the directions even as Ciri's presses in and invades the other's bubble of space for both closer, faster strikes from her sword. It goes on until Ciri hops back, pushing forward with more strength than intended and the force knocks one of the daggers from the other woman's hands. Instead of steel meeting steel, her blade cuts across Avery's hand and os immediately dropped as blood begins to pour from the wound.
"Shit, shit!" Her sword, usually so well-cared for is forgotten as she reaches out and takes Avery's cut hand into her own. "Maker, shit. Sorry, I wasn't bloody thinking and—"
If Avery was going to speak, it's rather hand with Ciri mumbling and worrying like she is in the present. It probably doesn't help when the Warden chuckles, lifting the other woman's hand and kissing her fingers with a stupid grin. Leaning in with another kiss to Avery's nose and cheek, chuckling despite the grumbles that might be bubbling up inside her companion now.
What a pair of dorks, right?
— ｒｏｏｓｔ.The griffins, much like the Wardens themselves, are a familiar sight around the Gallows. The griffins likely moreso than their fleshy companion if just because it is not unknown to here about some poor servant having one swoop down to steal food or something shiny from their unsuspecting hands. Feathery terrors, the lot of them and Ciri could not agree more with the assessment given to their thought extinct bird children. Especially now that their usual feeding time (already a workout in itself) has turned into Maker be damned play hour instead.
Anyone walking into the roost should be careful of food being thrown because children as Ciri sits in one of the cleaned areas as one griffin needlessly plays with her hair, it would almost be affectionate if not for the fact that she was sure the griffin was only looking through her hair thinking she was hiding more food. Another griffin, one of the... hefty ones, has made a roosting mate of the young Warden. Ciri can only tiredly pet down puffs of feathers, and listens to the happy little calls that almost make you forget they could easily rip someone open.
If you've stayed this long, the new visitor might get a look from both birds and their captive.
"You best have bloody brought them something to eat else they're gonna peck your feet."
— ｈｉｇｈｔｏｗｎ.Ciri takes pride in avoiding fights with the locals since arriving in Kirkwall. After all, everyone had an opinion and Kirkwall was just a powder keg of opinions. Currently, all talk seemed focused on the forest that had sprung up in the place of the former Chantry. Already a place full of explosive opinions, now several times worse and leaving the city feeling on edge as if everyone was waiting for something else to happen to ruin everything.
She doubts it would have been some drunken man, angrily swinging a bottle in one hand and an axe in the other as he gestures wildly at the new forest. He yells about a lot of things, mostly mages and elves with a colorful whirlwind of slurs that leaves her slightly reeling by the sheer number he manages in such a short amount of time. He's gathered a bit of a crowd but most seem interested in just moving along and avoiding confrontation.
Admittedly she is of the same mindset, deciding to leave it to the stationed guard if he went after the forest and continue her walk. It isn't the forest he swings his bottle at though, and instead it smashes at the feet of a small elven woman who cowers as he reaches out to grab her collar. It's in that moment that she decides she can't ignore it before rushing forward. Again, she considers the guards but it's all shoved aside as makes a grab for the man's hand and pushing the woman back.
There's a flash of pain followed by the sharp taste of blood as his fist connects with her nose and mouth. Once more, she thinks of the guards: they could arrest him or something fitting but her body moves before the rational part catches up. Instead the Warden grits her teeth, striking back and throwing her head forward in a headbutt with enough force to spend both parties almost toppling over. Right, okay, no one wins with a headbutt.
Though... maybe someone should hop in before this becomes a brawl?
— ｗｉｌｄｃａｒｄ.For anything not mentioned above! Feel free to find her around the Gallows, along with being found both inside and outside the city. Hit me up through a PM or on plurk at kaldwin if you'd like something set up.
Hightown
"What is he so angry about?" She seemed sober even if she was bloodied. That meant she'd probably solve this...
He shifted to avoid the axe and decided it was time to relieve him of that. Reaching for it, he grabbed hold of it tightly to yank at it. "I think you've had enough of that. Alcohol and weapons rarely mix well and you are proving this fact admirably."
no subject
"Maker's balls, that fucking hurt..." She mutters, idly wiping blood from her face with the back of her hand and eyeing the guy with a cross look. "He's pissed off about the newest addition to Kirkwall here. Forests don't appear overnight, you know so its obviously gotta be magic and our friend here don't much care for it."
As if on cue there is another string of less than pleasant language toward mages, oh and elves. We can't forget all of that wonderful racist language. "He don't like elves much either, if I had to guess."
(mind if I join in? if not just lmk)
I don't mind!
"There. That should solve you drinking the rest of this." He ignored the cursing as he carried the man over to a spot some feet away from the women and dropped him down onto his ass. "You stay there before I knock you out and make you do so."
With that, he looked back to the other two. "How fares her nose?"
more the merrier!!
One tends to the poor elf girl, still in tears while the others go to try and calmly restrain the man still cursing up a drunken storm.
"Breathin' could be better," she says and spits blood at the ground. "Has a damn good right hook for a shitty drunk."
no subject
"You'll breathe better when you're not bleeding out it," she points out, straightening, "now what was that?" She's not about to ream Ciri out for beating up a drunk, but it's probably worth knowing if this is part of some bigger problem.
no subject
As a man who clearly has had a broken nose before, he didn't react to the taking care of this one, just standing there with hands on his hips. "I'm thinking he should probably get an overnight somewhere to clear his head a bit. Especially since he's proven himself to be violent."
no subject
Someone in the background she hears Teren ask a question but it takes a moment before Ciri is able to answer. Thankfully, the big unfamiliar guy is all over it. It gives her a chance to straighten up, rubbing away at the blood still on her face and finally turning to spit out what got in her mouth. Aren't you a proud mother, Teren?
"I wasn't gonna bother with it," she starts. "But he went putting his hands on that poor girl. She did nothing wrong but because she's an elf and happened to be walking by, he grabbed at her. I couldn't let him do it when the drunk bastard was swinging an axe around."
no subject
no subject
"I apologize for the discomfort you face. I will see to it that someone is available to guide you to your destination should you ask for it." Another smile and he turned back to the man because he heard a snarl which signaled that his mabari was approaching to tell the man not to get up.
"Stay down. I will not hesitate to allow him to pin you," he warned then looked to the two women. "I can be the one to handle taking him somewhere. But first we need to see that the young woman is cared for and that this crowd is dispersed."