faderift | [ OPEN ] It's Like We've Landed on the Dark Side of the Moon

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[ OPEN ] It's Like We've Landed on the Dark Side of the Moon

WHO: Jim Kirk & Anyone [ OPEN ]
WHAT: Kirk has arrived Skyhold and is settling in (prompts within)
WHEN: For about a week, starting on Drakonis 25 and on
WHERE: Around Skyhold
NOTES:No warnings for now, brackets and prose is fine, and if it helps here is Kirk's info sheet

A - Merchant Stalls
First things first - he needed a change of clothing. Or at least a new shirt. It was painfully obvious how much he stood out in his uniform with its bright yellow shirt and synthetic fibers. That, and if he ever planned to leave Skyhold he was going to need something warmer than his uniform. He'd made it here alive with the help of Solas, but he could not count on him for getting out - if indeed he could at all. But all of that would have to wait until he could get coin to trade for the clothing, or at least find someone willing to trade labor for a shirt. He was not scared of hard labor, and despite his looks he was strong. The problem was convincing merchants of that and that he had no intention of stealing goods while they weren't looking.

Most days he managed it, and could be seen around the stalls helping haul large items or making small deliveries. It was far, far below what he had been doing before coming, but he was in no position to complain and so gamely went about his business, taking what pay the merchants were willing to give (and, frankly, oblivious to if he was getting cheated or not) or any bits of clothing and other items they were willing to trade for the day's activities.

Of course, there would be the one time where his charming smile and his baby blues couldn't get him out of a situation. He swore up and down to the merchant he had done nothing wrong, that he had been doing exactly as he asked and was not responsible for the (supposed) missing merchandise, but reason was not to be had. Therefore the only reasonable course of action was to bolt, shoving his way through the crowd and sincerely hoping that the merchant did not have something sharp and projectile to send after him other than his bellowing.

"Sorry, coming through, watch out!"

B - Tavern
Kirk told himself that he was spending time in the tavern because one of the best places to get information was a bar - drunken tongues made for loose lips. Or some saying to that effect, but the idea behind it was true. Of course, that was just what he told himself. The truth, if he cared to admit it, was that he simply just needed a drink. It had been a hell of a week, trekking across more cold and bitter land than he cared to think about and now finding himself suddenly thrust into a medieval (to him, at least) castle and still no closer to any real answers or a way home. The shard in his palm still throbbed beneath the linen wrapping he kept around it, the pain a dull ache now - which was worrisome. He would have thought those new cells of his... ugh, no, best not to think about that. One strange happening at a time.

He bought whatever the cheapest swill was, more concerned with saving coin for the moment (since it would take a hearty amount to get him drunk anyways now, an unfortunate side effect of the transfusion), and would promptly find himself a spot at a table in the center of the room or strike up a conversation with the person nearest him. He tried to switch out his shirts so that his bright yellow uniform did not give him away as a Rifter right away, but some nights he desired comfort, so bright yellow shirt it was. Strictly speaking he should not be drinking while wearing the uniform, but as far as he was concerned the Star Fleet regulations could get chucked out the window for the foreseeable future. At least he wasn't starting any bar fights. Pike would be proud.

"Thank god there's one thing I can always count on between planets - there will be alcohol."

C - The Library
What he could not learn from people he decided he could try and lean from books. He loved libraries as a rule anyways. He loved books and knowledge and learning. He had a love of history and alien culture, which made his research - what he could find of it - easier to bear. It made his head ache, least of all because of so many mentions of magic. He knew about the mages here and the wonders they supposedly worked, but he was not of a mind to think it magic. He couldn't wrap his head around it except for the concept of 'magic is what you call science you do not yet understand'. But he hadn't come to the library to learn of that, he had come to learn of history. A pity he didn't have a proper journal to write his notes down in.

There comes a point, though, where he simply stares at a book, squinting at the letters as if that will somehow force them to make more sense than they did. He could feel a headache coming on, and he slammed the book shut with entirely unnecessary force, the sound jarringly loud in the quiet space. He leaned forward, rubbing at his face, gritting his teeth as he rode out the wave of frustration.

"I really need to tell the brass to update the curriculum when I get back home," he muttered to himself. "How to Survive Medieval Lands 101."

D - Gardens: Night
One would think that after a hard trek over a harsh landscape for several days a body might desire quite a bit of sleep to make up for it. But not Kirk. Sleep had eluded him for many of the nights coming to Skyhold, as they had in the year before coming to the stronghold. Dreams gnawed at him, old shadows he could not quite shake licking at his heels, and so he resorted to his old tactics to keep them at bay - physical activity.

He did not want to be rude, so he made for a place he thought far enough off that his walk would not wake others from the tread of his boots, and he found himself in the gardens. Certain that no one else was around the area at night, he took to jogging through it until sweat coated his skin and his breathing came in burning gasps. Wisely, he did not think running around the stronghold at night was necessarily a good idea - it was hard to miss that Rifters were not entirely trusted in this place, after all, and he did not want to draw unnecessary attention.

When his muscles ached and his lungs burned or he simply could not find the zen place he sought when he ran, he would collapse next to the closest bunch of flowers or pleasant scented greenery and unwrap his hand, face lighting up from the sickly (to his mind) green glow of the splinter of the Anchor or whatever Solas had called it. He pressed at the flesh, still sore and aching, as if that might somehow give him more answers than had already been given. So absorbed in it was he that he would hardly notice someone coming up to him, at least not until they were right atop him...

Eventually he will wrap it back up, and rise to leave the gardens and seek out whatever sleeping space he can, feeling like a ghost in the halls.

E - Make Your Own Adventure
Don't see a prompt you like listed above? Feel free to make up your own! Kirk will be getting his bearings in Skyhold, so he'll be exploring wherever he can and thus probably show up most places at least once if he can get away with it, including down into the refugee camp.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There is really no need for Christine to pass through the gardens this evening. It's out of her way from the direction she's heading. Yet as she passes through the Great Hall, the spirit of Faith that observes the world alongside her takes note of the tired man out there, and nudges Christine's mind.

Tired. Aches. Heal. ...New? That last bit comes out a question on Faith's part, because there is much about the physical world the spirit doesn't understand. It can sense something strange about this man, as if his body is new, but it doesn't know how to convey that to Christine.

Stopping near the door leading out to the gardens, Christine is given another nudge by Faith and so she goes that way to see if the spirit has found her a patient. Walking late at night can be a dangerous thing, especially for a mage, but if someone is hurt, they'll need help. Scanning the gardens, she spots the green glow of the shard and makes her way over. Ah, that must be what Faith meant. The man is a rifter, and therefore new.

Stopping beside him, Christine speaks gently in her lilting Orlesian accent that rifters have called French-sounding.

"You are hurt?" she asks, taking note of his heavy breathing and how exhausted he looks.

Shock registers when Christine speaks to him, because there was that sudden, nagging thought that he should know her, know her face. He should, but he didn't, and he shoved it away. It was probably nothing, just seeing what he wanted rather than what was there, and that wouldn't do him any good. It would get him into trouble, he was sure, and for once he didn't want to look for it. His plan so far had been keeping his head down, learning, and then formulating a way home.

Still, once he pushed away the phantom thoughts he gave her a reassuring smile, somehow still charming beneath the gasps of air and the sweat trickling down his face.

"No, I'm fine. I was just getting some exercise, is all. I didn't wake you up or anything did I?"

"No, I have not yet been to bed, and it is not close to here." Though that did raise the question of why she suddenly detoured to the gardens. Explaining Spirit Healing to a rifter would be a long, complicated thing, so she didn't bother with it.

"I came only to collect some elfroot before bed." She moved around him to the pot close by and plucked a few leaves from the plant. Elfroot was widely used in healing and was always needed in the healing tents, so she would drop them off first thing in the morning.

"I could use a rejuvenation spell on you, to help your muscles recover faster, if you are not adverse to magic," she offered.

Probably a good thing. Kirk had enough adjusting to do without that concept thrown at him, not that he would be entirely inclined to believe it either. For a man of science, accepting things like magic and spirit healing just did not come easily.

There is a distinct twitch of his cheek at the mention of magic and using it on him. Not only for the magic part, but in general he was wary of medicine here. He had so many allergies that anything could potentially set him off, and he highly doubt that they had ways of dealing with anaphylactic shock.

"What does elfroot do?" he asked her instead, not immediately answering her offer and hoping to distract instead, even twisting to watch her pluck the plant.

"It has medicinal qualities," she explained. "Steeping the leaves in hot water and drinking it helps with headaches, and the leaves can be ground into a paste for surface wounds. Some people even dry the leaves to smoke them in a pipe, as it can calm the nerves. Of course, a little too much and a person can become... silly." Basically it's Thedas weed.

"I will drop these off at the healer's tent tomorrow morning."

A multipurpose medicinal plant. The last way she listed for its use had his mouth twitching in an amused smile, thinking of the equivalent on Earth. He had never partaken of the plant in the way on Earth and he didn't plan on doing so here, but it was an amusing similarity. It seemed that like alcohol, drugs were a constant among worlds.

"Sounds like a handy little plant," he nodded, sending out a silent prayer that he was not allergic to it as he seemed to be to most medicines. Hopefully because it was natural rather than chemical it would go over a bit more smoothly with his body's immune system. "Does it grow naturally around here? That's pretty convenient if it does." He reached back to pluck a leaf and inspect it closer, cocking his head.

"I imagine with the state of things you have to use it quite a bit." It's half a statement, half a question, glancing towards her as he turns the leaf between his fingers.

'It grows everywhere. It is incredibly hardy; so much so that it will grow up through desert sands or winter snows. Such makes it a boon for healers." She nodded down at the leaf he'd plucked. "We keep pots with a constant supply, but there are other places we can import it from as well."

With all the hard work the Inquisition had been doing in western Ferelden, they'd been given special privileges, such as being allowed to collect herbs and metals from the land.

A very hardy plant indeed. It struck him that he should snag some for a sample - such a plant could prove a boon to some planets, especially with medicinal properties. Of course, that was on the assumption he would return home one day. Which he believed, of course, but even he was coming to believe that being either recovered or returned was going to be a long rather than immediate term goal.

"Heh, no doubt. It's amazing that there would be such a planet that it grows almost everywhere so readily. Makes medicine more accessible for everyone, right?" he asked her, placing the leaf back into the dirt beneath the plant where it could decompose and return to the soil.

"You speak of planets," she observed, voice sounding intrigued. "Have you visited more than one? Before arriving here, I mean. I know one of the rifters has been to different ones."

And by that, she means Church. It's easy to get him speaking of the subject, because once he starts, it's hard for him to stop.

Inwardly he poked at himself. He should watch his words better, but was there way to actually avoid it? The Rifters were all people from other worlds, and she had clearly just said someone else had been talking about planets. Honestly, he should just give up on the Prime Directive, but he couldn't quite let go just yet. He owed it to Pike to try a bit longer.

"Yes, I have. Where I'm from, it's actually part of my job to visit other planets and to discover new ones," he explained, thinking it was all right so long as he kept some things vague. He pointed up to where the stars glittered overhead. "Every point of light up there has planets orbiting it - or, the majority do at least."

"It is a job? So you are an explorer? Do you write of the places you have seen? Here we have authors who write of their travels. The most famous is Brother Genitivi. He has been farther than most of us will ever travel in our lifetimes." And seeing how the world could be such a dangerous place, she didn't mind reading about it instead of seeing such places with her own eyes.

He nodded, unconsciously moving his hand to rub his thumb against the shard beneath the linen wrappings he kept around it. The pain had faded to a dull ache he'd learned to block out, but like a loose tooth he could not help but rub at it from time to time.

"Yes, it's my job. And yes, I do write of them. I have to send back reports to my command officers, you see, and all captains are required to keep logs. So we have reports back from when we first set out into the stars."

"I cannot imagine what that is like," she mused, glancing up towards the night sky. "Do you sail on winds up there?" But then she refocused on his face and gave him an amused sort of look. "I am sorry. It is late, and I am giving you all these questions to answer when you probably have need of rest."

He shook his head and smiled softly at her. "No, it's okay. I'm not really all that tired, so I don't mind." It gave him a reason not to go seeking sleep and he was glad for the company besides.

"And there's no wind in space. Between stars and planets there's, well, nothing. It's empty space. No air, no sound, no heat - unless you're close to a star which I don't recommend."

"It sounds like a terrible place," she replied with a slight frown. The only reason she could see to be up there was because it was what lay between the place you started from, and your destination. She also didn't understand how he could move through that empty space. Before he'd said anything, she'd suspected there were winds to push him along, but with no air, that was impossible.

"It is unfortunate you had to arrive here in the middle of our war. It must be quite a shock."

A laugh escaped him at that assessment. He couldn't help it, because he supposed when he explained it like that it did sound terrible. But it was a hard thing to grasp - that even though much of it was emptiness, the spots that were filled had many, many things to offer.

"You sound like my CMO - ah, that is, Chief Medical Officer," he explained. "But I guess you can think of it as a sort of ocean. There's not a lot there, but the little islands you come across are full of life and new and wonderful things." Yeah, that sounded like a good metaphor, he thought.

Another shrug followed her last comment. "It's not the best situation to come into, but I'm not in chains, I'm not freezing, and I'm not seriously injured, so I'll take the blessings and good fortune I have. Though I admit I don't... quite understand everything about this war."

"Oh? Perhaps it is a trait all those in medicine share, no?" She also doesn't like people delighting in taking on dragons, getting in tavern fights, or resisting getting treatment when they're clearly injured. Such is the life of a healer dealing with daredevils.

"The war has been confusing for many, because it was very clearly about one thing, and then suddenly it became about something else, with a new enemy to face. What are your questions? I shall try to answer."

"Haha, that it might be. I wouldn't be surprised, really. I just hope I don't cause you as much stress as I cause him. You're to pretty to have those kinds of frown lines yet," he slid the charm in there without thinking, but his smile was sincerely genuine.

He pondered that for a moment, tipping his head slightly as if listening for something, chewing his lip just at the corner. "What do you think it is you're fighting for? What's the goal? And do the actions of the Inquisition match that end goal?"

Compliments weren't out of the ordinary, but she'd been hearing more of them since leaving the Circle. Perhaps people were more forward when they weren't watching their back all the time for disapproving Templars.

"Right now, the goal is to defeat Corypheus and his army. He wishes to rip a hole open to the Fade, and install himself as a new god. From there, he will raise the Tevinter Imperium back up as an empire to rule over us all. You have surely already seen what falls from the rifts in the Fade besides yourself: demons pour into this world. That is bad enough without him believing he will gain the power to control us. What if even part of that is true? What will he do to us? If you have heard little of Tevinter, it is a land where Magisters rule. There is a population of commoners, but below them, everyone else is a slave." Christine crossed her arms, feeling a sudden chill. "We mages were nearly indentured to a Magister until the Inquisition took us in. It was either that, or wait for the Templars to slaughter us. Neither option was very good." Which was why she couldn't be too angry with their leader, Fiona, for indenturing them. Christine was planning on running away anyway, rather than live in servitude in Tevinter.

"The Inquisition works to end this chaos Corypheus has created. We must stop him from gaining power and defeat his army."

Oh no, that was just because Kirk was a notorious flirt. If he found something aesthetically or intellectually pleasing, the charm came on. It was almost like breathing for him - a natural occurrence he had minimal control over at best.

He listened attentively, his thumb brushing around his palm as he did so. He tilted his head, trying to sort the information. It was quite a lot to take in and sort, and the stories he was told did not always match. He really should find a notebook and start taking proper notes. Maybe that nice Hermoine girl in the library could help him with that...

"You'll have to forgive me, I'm still learning the history of this world," he said as a preamble. "I know Corypheus is bad - wants to rule the world or destroy it, possibly a mixture of both. But I thought that the Inquisition was born of the Templars, and I was led to believe that the Templars helped to imprison mages - Circle Mages, am I right or is that different? And now I have these Magisters are essentially tyrants, and I'm guessing they might not have magic of their own if they want to enslave mages?"

Could you see the question marks and looping lines running around his head, Christine? He really is trying, but normally he gets briefs rather than a lot of word of mouth and very biased books to work with.

Christine's expression shifted just slightly, showing she disapproved of something he'd said. But only because someone else hadn't explained things properly.

"This Inquisition was founded by a Seeker, who is someone who manages Templars, yes. But the other founder is our Spymaster and not a Templar herself. And the Inquisition recruited both Templars and mages to help in this fight. We are all equals here, and the Circles are no more. Templars have no right to control us anymore."

Some of the tension left her body after getting that out, and in a softer voice, she went on.

"Tevinter is run by mages called Magisters. They are the ones who give all mages a bad name. No one wants to be like the Tevinter Imperium unless they are power hungry and want everyone else to hate and fear them. We mages were almost indentured to a Magister before the Inquisition took us in. We would have been under his rule back in Tevinter for many years before we would have been given our freedom, and then, we would not have been in the upper class of society there, even as mages. Tevinter likes its class system."

Well, she would doing a better job of explaining than some other people. He was awake enough, he hoped, to retain most of it. It had been a very long week and admittedly he was not functioning on the sleep he really should need. Or did he need it anymore? He wasn't sure if he was simply running from dreams, or if his body had actually changed, but that wasn't important right now.

"Well, I would say they never did, but that's just my opinion," he offered to the first.

To the second his face merely twisted in the shadow of disgust at her explanation of it. The whole idea made him shudder, especially when Earth's history was littered with the concept of a class system going horribly wrong and leading to much suffering.

"So is that where all the refugees are coming from?" he asked her. He had heard rumblings of war and there wouldn't be a need for something like the Inquisition if there wasn't some sort of fight brewing, but again he was getting so much information on parts and so little on others it was difficult to suss out the truth of the whole matter, much less put everything in order.

"You rifters are far more accepting of us than many of our fellow Thedosians," Christine replied. "Magic can be dangerous if used improperly, or by those who are selfish and cruel. But many would rather see all mages locked up to prevent it from happening at all, which only leads to resentment and mages lashing out."

But his question has her shaking her head no. "The refugees are not of Tevinter. At least, none are to my knowledge. They are people from close by: either Orlais or Ferelden. Either the mages and Templars fighting on their lands drove them off it, looking for safety, or the fade rifts might have done it. Or the Orlesian civil war. Or Red Templars." She frowned and let out a deep sigh. "Truly, there are many forces driving them to our doors."

"Magic," he began, because he didn't really know what else to call if it even if he didn't believe in it. "Magic is just a tool. And a tool is neither good nor bad. It is given purpose by those that use it. And it's not right to judge all of a people on the actions of a few." That was how he saw it, how he would always see it. The very idea that a whole people had been isolated for things they had not even done was beyond him, and made his gut twist.

Two neighboring countries if his understanding of the few maps he'd come across were accurate. The sheer list of causes was enough to make him wince. His own world had been at peace for over a century, though they ran into hostilities out in the universe. But thankfully Earth had moved past fighting itself.

"Well, one problem at a time, right?" he looked to her. "Focus on the things you can fix, and work around to those you can't - at least not yet. Slowly, things will get better."

"That is the hope of many," she replied. "Only time will tell. I do hope I have not confused you too much with my explanations. It must be a challenge to arrive in the middle of it all."

[ OPEN ] It's Like We've Landed on the Dark Side of the Moon

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