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[OPEN] You've got your reasons / And me, I've got mine
WHO: Kit + OPEN
WHAT: Back from the Korcari Wilds, Kit kicks about town finding trouble.
WHEN: Towards the end of August.
WHERE: The Gallows, Lowtown, Darktown.
NOTES: Will update as they become relevant.
WHAT: Back from the Korcari Wilds, Kit kicks about town finding trouble.
WHEN: Towards the end of August.
WHERE: The Gallows, Lowtown, Darktown.
NOTES: Will update as they become relevant.
The Korcari Wilds were strange, and the experiences had within them even stranger. Kit still can't completely shake the feeling of persistent dread that has hounded him since that night spent around the Chasind campfire listening to the words spun for him and the rest of his companions by the shaman. Since his return to Kirkwall, it has been easier for him to eschew the company of the friends he's made since arriving, though he knows it's beyond unreasonable to avoid them forever.
I. THE GALLOWS - TRAINING GROUNDS
About a week after his return from the Wilds, Kit rouses himself early enough to get to the training grounds before the sun has decided whether it's ready to drag itself above the horizon or not. There are a handful of dutiful Templars and other Inquisition soldiers at work there already, either engaging in sparring or in warm up exercises. Kit stands out like the sorest of thumbs among all the humans, but he's used to that.
He heads over to a rack of training war axes and examines them, picking them up to test the heft, then hanging them back up again. Truthfully, he's not even sure what he's doing here without an Inquisition scout trainee in need of remedial lessons to attend to; sleep just wouldn't stay with him.
It's a pity he isn't human; he can't even blame nightmares for keeping him awake.
II. KIRKWALL - THE HANGED MAN
It's easier to lose his money than it is for him to keep it, and he's doing a great job of proving that to himself again tonight. Card shark or not, there's always bound to be a night where even your best poker face isn't good enough, and this is one of those nights.
He's seated at a table near the back of the taproom floor surrounded by a number of other dwarves who, judging by the clean cut of their clothes and their absurdly coiffed beards, are likely representatives of the Merchants' Guild. It's not exactly clear when the stakes of this game got quite so high as to include Kit betting his tiny, exquisite carving of Paragon Hrildan, but that's where he's at now.
He sits very still in his chair, examining the hand of cards he holds in one hand while the other keeps a lit cigarette within easy reach of his lips.
III. DARKTOWN
He ends up in Darktown like it's ten years ago and he's in need of a spell of quiet. The darkness, the stink, the distance people give each other in lieu of making trouble, reminds him with a pang of bitter homesickness of Dust Town, and he almost can't conscience how much he misses it for one shitty moment.
There's a single rickety railing that exists to prevent the idle wanderer from tripping over their own feet and careening down into the depths of the channel leading into the city, and that is where Kit stands, smoking a cigarette and watching the small, distant shapes of the barges as they move through the gates.
III
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He gestures around them. "You come down here for the fresh air or what?"
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"I'd forgotten what a shit-hole this place is."
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"I'd never been until recently," Teren says, peering down over the railing just to see where the cigarette will land. "Not to this one, at least. These places are everywhere you go, and they're all the bloody same." Pits of wanton poverty and despair, nests of forgotten people. She knows the environment well.
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There's more he could probably say--maybe thank Teren for her help getting him out of his tangle with the darkspawn alive, ask her about herself, where she's been. He likes her well enough, and being a Grey Warden (and therefore an expert at killing darkspawn) is a point in her favour. But if he were in the right headspace for making (or maintaining) new friendships, he probably wouldn't be down here right now.
Already he looks like he's itching for another smoke. "Anyway," he starts, but sounds rather like he doesn't know what to say next.
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"Stay out of trouble," he bids her with a crooked grin, clearly teasing her a little. Why else would anyone be down here, unless they're in it, or looking for it, anyway?
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