[ OPEN ] Days too full, nights too dark

[fleurdesel]

WHO: Adelaide & You
WHAT: Catch all for end of Guardian & Drakonis
WHEN: All of Drakonis
WHERE: EDL, Skyhold
NOTES: some prompts to follow, poke me via PM or plurk if you want a particular starter!

[ The Healing Tents ]

Even if nothing else seems to be certain- this much she knows she has right. Every scrape, every wound, every cough she mends with a faint murmur and twist of Compassion's power. Here things are simpler. There is an injury, she is to mend it. No questions of morality or trust beyond that which her patients put in her to see them made well. It's simpler. It's a relief, honestly, after the current mess. Here if nowhere else she can trust her judgement beyond a shadow of a doubt. Now and then the lantern outside showing she is taking patients is shuttered- feel free to come in and find her drinking tea with a cold compress to her forehead. Migraines, Oh joy.


[ The Library ]

For every answer there are at least ten to twenty more questions- though the further along she goes the more precise she might make them and the less dithering about archaic academic footnotes she has to endure. Still she hunches over texts with notes, ink staining her fingers, tea at her elbow long since gone cold as she sketches and notes what scraps of something coherent she can find in these rituals on spirits, the fade, and demons. Either deep in thought, scribbling furiously, or dozing in her chair she is easy to find in the far corner, candle melting down the hours.


[ The Garden ]

Lessons in the morning, sparring in the evening, meditations around midday or tea with whomever she finds that has been overworking themselves just as much as she has which will not do. Adelaide sits here cool and calm at dawn, sculptures of ice spinning through her fingers in forms and shapes that meld and melt and meld over and over- in the early day with her students going over magical theory or discussing with them one on one their fears about demons and fade dreams, in the evening with a rapier, practicing forms, or late at night when she is unable to sleep, staring at scorched earth grass is only just beginning to grow over.

Comments

healing tents

[motherfucking_ghost]

[And, once she's back, who has to pop in but Church. Hey, he did suggest they could talk face to face when she came back. They just...had a different weird conversation otherwise is all.]

Iiiiis this a bad time, or are you just gonna ask me about weird-ish dreams again?

healing tents

[fleurdesel]

There is no such thing as 'a good time' Church.

[ Harsh, more clipped and curt than normal- but she gestures for him to find a seat with as much grace as she ever has. ]

[motherfucking_ghost]

...Sheesh, I can come back later, you know. Are you, uh...you feeling okay? [It's rhetorical. She obviously is feeling like shit.] Do I need to get someone to look at you?

[fleurdesel]

I am fine.

[ It's a lie, flatly made. ]

No, you do not need to call a healer to me. I do not need it.

[motherfucking_ghost]

[His clearly says he's calling you and ur bs addie. But he sits. Leans in.] So what do you need?

[fleurdesel]

For the people I trust to stop lying to me, that would be lovely.

[motherfucking_ghost]

...Oh. [He was just gonna suggest that whatever it was, a vacation and a deep massage would help. But that's way more serious.] Anything you wanna talk about to someone not involved or...?

[fleurdesel]

I am simply questioning my judgement in character.

[ She glowers at nothing in particular for a long moment before swinging her gaze back around to him. ]

...There are no terribly horrific secrets in your past, are there? Not quite human bullshit aside?

[motherfucking_ghost]

...Thaaaat depends? [As one of the only people who have an inkling of who--what--Church is, there are things he doesn't mind saying to her. He trusts her. But there's a lot of mental bullshit to sort through.] Nothing terribly horrific that I've done. [Can remember doing.] Stuff in general that's horrible, yeah, but I'm not like a crazy psycho mass murderer or anything pretending to be my loveable self.

[fleurdesel]

Have you ever made an attempt to destroy your world- have you ever been responsible for a multitude of deaths directly? [ That is what twists in her gut- and if Church says yes? She's skipping straight to brandy. ]

[motherfucking_ghost]

As a soldier in a war, I've killed people. [Look, he maybe was able to take out some of those temporally displaced Wyomings! Probably!] And people have died because of me--like...what I am. The whole situation surrounding...me.

[He's making this more complicated than it needs to be. Her question is pretty straightforward. So he'll take a breath and try to be, too.] But directly, deliberately, trying to just murder the shit out of people or blowing up a planet for the hell of it? No. I'm not a fucking psychopath.

[fleurdesel]

...then all is well- no that is not true. Between you and I, all is well.

[ Which is as good as it is likely going to get. Still. Brandy- she pours them both out a cup of tea and tops it with a bit of said brandy. Something to warm them through and ease the tension in the base of her skull. ] Here.

[motherfucking_ghost]

...So you're having a pretty shitty day. [He nods in thanks at the drink.] Seems like you could use this drink the other way around. Tea on top of brandy. And skip the tea part. Maybe you should come down to the tavern and get wasted.

[fleurdesel]

That is an understatement. [ She slumps in her chair, downing most of her tea in one go. After a moment's consideration she does top it off with brandy. ] I am a public figure now, Church. I cannot simply go get wasted. It offers a poor image.

[motherfucking_ghost]

I'm not saying go stumble around Skyhold sloshed and pissing on things, I'm just saying get buzzed for an evening in a place that's used to drinking away sorrows and have yourself a good time.

[fleurdesel]

The tavern is crowded, full of noise and people and- I would rather not have this drawn out to the public. My discomfit. My foolishness.

[motherfucking_ghost]

You're allowed to be foolish in a bar, Lady Laide. There's a bunch of assholes drinking. It's not like it's for serious shit.

But. Maybe when you're in a better mood. Y'know, like you don't feel like making sure all your friends aren't lying to you.

Wanna...talk about it, or something, maybe?

[fleurdesel]

You don't have the context for it. But...someone I trusted someone I cared for- two of them in fact, within the same week came to me and confessed they were lying to me about who, or what, they were.

The first is a lesser sin as it is not quite so relevant. The latter...I have put my reputation on the line by being associated with him. I put myself on the chopping block for knowing him, for caring for him.

[motherfucking_ghost]

...Man, it's a pretty good thing you found out like pretty immediately about my whole questionably human status. [Shh, he says it quietly enough nobody'll hear.]

Think you're gonna feel the fallout for this shitstain of a friend? Do you believe in him? Trust him? Or are you gonna denounce him and stop hanging out with him?

[fleurdesel]

No. He lied. He lied about what he is, who he is- no. I cannot and will not support him for what he has done.

[motherfucking_ghost]

Well good! Good for you kicking that trash to the curb. You don't need a lying sack of shit in your life. Sure it hurts now, but it's better for you in the end.

[fleurdesel]

That is... [ The first thing that's wrung a half crackled laugh out of her. ] A very apt way of putting it. You have quite the way with words, Church.

[motherfucking_ghost]

Eh. [He shrugs and takes a sip of bourbontea.] It's a gift.

[fleurdesel]

You might wish to return it. [ More brandy, less tea. She sips and goes so far as to extend a hand to him, curious as to how he might take it. If he might take it. ] I did not say it was a fine way with words.

[motherfucking_ghost]

Isn't having a way better than not having a way at all? I'll mark it as a win in my book.

[There is a hand. Why is she- what is hand for. Is this suddenly flirty, should he like, brush fingers, or is she waiting for something-- He finally decides that, given her topping off her drink, she intends to do the same for him and hands over his cup.]

But seriously, fuck that guy for taking advantage of your trust and your friendship.

...Okay, but real talk, does that mean I'm being a shitheel trashpile if I'm not telling my friends all about me? I mean. The part that you've made pretty clear might get me killed dead for real this time if I did. I doubt that was the case for your no-longer-buddy. Or should these things come out regardless?