faderift | I can do it with instruments,

WHO: Leliana & open;
WHAT: the many adventures of Sister Nightingale - open prompts and some custom made.
WHEN: Some prompts can be backdated, if you like! Otherwise, spanning the end of fantasy land January.
WHERE: various!
NOTES:brackets or prose are fine, I'll match whatever you prefer :Db feel free to pp me on @swoons on plurk, or pm me if you'd like a custom starter! I'm more than happy to whip one up.

( herald's rest. )

( and there goes someone slinking out of the tavern, and they may just have knocked into your character on their way. they have lost a fine dagger and a bag of coin to a woman sitting in the corner, who is presently shuffling cards with a slight, pleased smile. it was foolish to let skills atrophy, whether it is the wielding of blades and arrows, or the brutal delivery of a winning hand. she has finished her wine, and is waiting for the man at the bar to deliver more. )

( gardens. )

( In the past she would spend more time in their little improvised Chantry, have lit candles and murmured prayers. She finds herself lacking the inclination, today. The Chantry has been a comfort to her for so many years, now, but she has always existed at odds with others. The brothers and sisters in Lothering had doubted her, and there had been part of her that relished the attention, even as she was appalled by their self-centered obsession that the Maker's love must make you unique. The memory makes a sharp, unpleasant smile tug at the corners of her mouth as she wanders the garden. It has become something of habit, letting the sun's descent and the pulling away of the yellows and oranges pooled across the sky and the inky blue and black of the night sky truly falls. Perhaps it is dramatic of her, but she would like to allow herself the indulgence.

Perhaps she hears the approach, and it breaks her from her reverie, or perhaps it is one of the rare occasions where she chooses to make the approach. )

It is beautiful, no?

( wildcard. )

I'm lazy, hit me with whatever idea grabs you :]b Rookery? Nug adventures? idk ANYTHING

( alistair. )

( Most people give their friends some warning before visiting.
Most people, however, are not Leliana, and so it is that she is standing at the entrance of Alistair's chambers just as he is leaving to go somewhere, a squeaking nug following at her ankles. She cannot loom over Alistair (it's not like she can physically loom over most people, actually) but she still has something of a presence, and she sometimes forgets not to loom in social settings. Or maybe she just wants to see the look on his face, because Alistair is so terribly expressive. She can't imagine a worse spy, but that's an endearing quality in a friend. ) Did I catch you at a bad time?

( That smile suggests that she isn't overly concerned about it, actually. )

( maria hill. )

( There were not many templars she held in esteem. Or, perhaps, there were not many templars that she deemed worthy of their rank and responsibility-- no. Leliana frowns, discontent with her own thoughts. The Chantry was a flawed thing, a thing that needed gutting and reworking in its entirety, as much as she suspects the very mention of such thoughts would make some amongst her frequent company less than easy. The Maker was a being of love, of acceptance - and he made mages, and granted them their gift. Why, then, was it the Maker's will that they be torn from their families, treated as if they were abominations before a demon could so much have dreamed of tempting them. Their gifts were shackled, and their wills, and all the while murderers and thieves like Leliana herself could walk free. It was not right, and the thoughts of Chantry corruption, of templar abuses of power and the suffering that those who claimed to do the Maker's bidding brought was insufferable. It could not endure.

Leliana paces, one hand balled into a tight fist as she walks the ramparts, eager to gain some air away from the rookery. And perhaps these thoughts leave her a hypocrite, because what is she, if not a bringer of death? She could bring men to their knees with a threat and a whisper, and cut their throats for the sake of certainty. She was no better, that she knows, but it is not for herself that she Chantry must be reformed. No, she knows the darkness within, and it is only one so well-versed that could dream of cutting away such a foul infection with the surgical precision required.

Perhaps the Maker has a sense of humour, that she looks away from the stretch of blue skies and mountains, only to be met with... a templar, and a cooperative one, at that. The hand that was so tightly clenched relaxes, and Leliana eases her posture, leaning against the ivy-strewn wall. ) Maria. I trust all is well?

( zevran. )

( Luncheon between assassins. It was laughable, in a way. Still, she has put off catching up with her old friend for far too long, and of all people, Zevran is one of few she has the most tolerance for. It is not that she is impatient, and she can play parts well, it is simply... Zevran knows her well, better than most, and so there are those who wish to make an impression on Sister Nightingale, on the advisor and the spymaster, or they are afraid of what she knows and what she can do. Neither particularly bothers her, but sometimes it is pleasant to be in the company of those who do carry the same expectations. Perhaps being in the company of one who remembers the earnest bard come lay-sister is a relief, as well, who has seen her evolution.

Leliana is sitting on a rooftop, eyes closed and inhaling deeply, relishing the way the mountain air stings her lungs on the deep breath, and has something of a picnic - if such a term can be used, in these circumstances - laid out. Eyes still closed, she smiles ever so slightly. He may move silently, stalk with the best, but she is Sister Nightingale, and detection is something she has known for decades, now. )

You made it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Beleth stiffens when the Nightingale hears her approach and actually turns to speak to her. She feels a little guilty, like a child caught eavesdropping--She hadn't quite meant to, but she was curious about the woman who wasn't just her boss, but the boss of her boss. The one who coordinated all the scouts and spies of the Inquisition. A shadowy figure in her tower, weaving a web of information. The mental image fits well against this cloaked woman roaming the gardens at sunset, shadows cast down on the flora.

All in all, it's rather intimidating, and Beleth has to resist muttering some apologies and slinking away to let the woman have the garden to herself. She's never going to a very impressive spy if she can't even speak to the spymaster. What would Zevran say?

Besides. She's talking about flowers. Stop freaking out, Beleth. ]

It is. It's come a long way from when we first got here and everything was brush and weeds. I think that any noble house would be hard put to put a nicer garden in their own holds.

But I might be biased.

( Beleth; of course she has heard the name. It would be remiss if she had not, although she must admit that one of the very reasons she has descended from the tower, has made herself a little more... visible, present these past few days is that she would wish to know the people of the Inquisition better. Perspective, she had told Morrigan, and it had not been a lie. Leliana cannot say it was entirely honest, if only because in her more dramatic moments she wonders just how much capacity for total honesty (and the goodness that she thinks must surely go with such a dangerous thing) she has. Certainly she is not in the business of transparency.

Her present company's response does not win a smile, but she does huff something that could almost make for a laugh. Or just a touch of amusement? Who really knows. Leliana cannot be certain herself, half the time, and that is part of what troubles her; they must act with certainty, with swiftness, and pray to the Maker that their action reflect his will and guidance (though she wonders, sometimes, whether what the Maker would wish is truly what the world should endure, when so much death seems tethered to Him.)

But the young woman has made a response, and here is Leliana, pausing perhaps a little too long before replying. ) Certainly there is more to be appreciated in that which you have spent long hours working on.

( She turns to Beleth more fully. ) And the transformation is an impressive one.

( Even with the damage incurred by the abomination, even with the limited resources they have, fine work has been done. ) I do not believe we have met, formally.

( Seeing people around Skyhold and in the company of those you already know, perhaps even speaking in their presence without addressing them... that can hardly pass for a meeting. She has had other concerns. )

[ Beleth ducks her head modestly at the compliment, a smile on her face. She pauses to glance around the gardens, trying to take them in with a stranger's eye. ]

It wasn't just me. There were a lot of others as well, and we worked together to clean everything up and make it so beautiful.

[ She glances over to Leliana, still unsure if it's a bright idea to be attempting to socialize with the spymaster. She's important, she speaks to the important people, and she's usually busy doing important things. What could Beleth possibly do for her, that she doesn't have dozens of scouts already doing? She's no one special.

But Leliana wasn't busy with all these important things when the Dalish approached her, and they're already having a conversation. It couldn't hurt, she decides, to at least get to know the woman at the top. Even if Beleth doesn't stand out among the other scouts, it would be useful to see the face behind the commands. To have an idea of what kind of person she was.

And she's a friend of Beleth's teacher, Zevran. ]

Ah, my apologies--

[ My lady? Ser? Simply call her Leliana, or Nightingale? Beleth decides to not use titles at all rather than risk using the wrong one. She bobs her head deferentially and hopes that will be enough. ]

I am Scout Beleth Ashara. It's a pleasure to formally meet you.

I have met one of two of the others, I think. It is gratifying to see a sense of community developed across those of such varied skills. ( Pride at a shared accomplishment was a fine thing. It brought a smile to her face, even, because when there could be pleasure taken from a garden, what delight would there be at their work to save Thedas, at each step coming to fruition?

It is self indulgent, perhaps. Not something she can simply rest on, not now.

The apology breaks her from her thoughts, earning raised eyebrows, though not entirely from surprise. Leliana well knows her reputation, has crafted it to an extent. )

We are well met, Scout Ashara. I am Leliana.

( But you already knew that. She thinks for a moment, leaning back with her hands clasped behind her back. ) You are one of Zevran's students, correct? How do you find the lessons?

There are indeed many different people who work on the gardens. I've met some of them--some I know only by the work they've done.

[ It's a little funny, really. Only knowing a person because of their gardening. Almost like passing notes, but with plants.

Mentioning Zevran startles her a little, but she's quick to nod, a fond smile growing on her face as she begins speaking of her teacher, and friend. ]

Yes, I am. The lessons are challenging, but Zevran is a good teacher. He makes learning enjoyable, and he's careful to help you with what needs improvement without making you feel like a failure. If you don't succeed--It's alright. But he's always quick to let you know when you do a good job, as well. It feels rewarding. I've been learning a great deal, and with his lessons in mind, began expanding my knowledge outside of my training.

[ She pauses, ducking her head sheepishly. ]

I've been rambling. I apologize. But yes--I find the lessons well.

( The enthusiasm is close to enough to draw a genuine smile from her - close, but not quite. Nonetheless, she is pleased, pausing her study of a particularly beautiful flower and straightening up. )

No apologies are necessary. It is gratifying to hear that Zevran has such appreciative students.

( She will have to pass along the praise. Such loyalty should not be forgotten or dismissed. )

Have you taken a speciality with him? Or is it more general training?

I'm very appreciative. He didn't have to help me, but he does. I just hope I can repay him for his kindness some day.

[ Beleth does smile, fondness for her teacher clear in her voice. She stops to think on specialty, exactly. While she would normally hesitate to say that he was helping her become a spy because of the negative implications, she is pretty sure that Leliana would not have those kinds of hesitations. However, it's still a little...indelicate. ]

Zevran is helping me learn how to...deal with information and people. How to move and speak in the Orlesian society.

I can do it with instruments,

no subject

I am so sorry it's taken me inexcusably long to reply, I've been moving house and super scattered

its all good! ive been slow too u_u

we are the very best, like no one ever was

no subject

omg I am failure and thought I had already replied here D: I'm so sorry

no subject