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faderift2016-04-17 01:31 am
faderifting) wrote in faderift2016-04-17 01:31 am
Entry tags:
- ! open,
- teren von skraedder,
- { adelaide leblanc },
- { anders },
- { araceli bonaventura },
- { ariadne },
- { benevenuta thevenet },
- { bruce banner },
- { cassandra pentaghast },
- { cole },
- { dorian pavus },
- { eirlys ancarrow },
- { ellana ashara },
- { fenris },
- { galadriel },
- { gavin ashara },
- { hermione granger },
- { iron bull },
- { james norrington },
- { jamie mccrimmon },
- { jim kirk },
- { kain highwind },
- { korrin ataash },
- { leliana },
- { leonard church },
- { malcolm reed },
- { maria hill },
- { martel },
- { maxwell trevean },
- { merrill },
- { mia rutherford },
- { nerva lecuyer },
- { obi-wan kenobi },
- { rachette dakal },
- { samouel gareth },
- { sera },
- { siuona dahlasanor },
- { solas },
- { velanna },
- { zevran arainai }
OPEN: Cloudreach Event
WHO: Anyone at Skyhold
WHAT: Cloudreach showers bring weird shit.
WHEN: Cloudreach 15 onward
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: For information about the illness, its effects, and its cure, please make sure to also read the OOC Post.
WHAT: Cloudreach showers bring weird shit.
WHEN: Cloudreach 15 onward
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: For information about the illness, its effects, and its cure, please make sure to also read the OOC Post.
This high in the mountains, snowstorms are to be expected. But this one is large and lingering, hanging over the valley and the fortress for days. In Skyhold, with its eternal spring, the snow becomes rain before it hits the ground, leaving inhabitants and visitors to wade through puddles and mud in the courtyards. In the valley, snow and ice accumulate under cloud cover—and worse, when the clouds finally thin, a whole winter's accumulation of snow begins to melt in the sunlight.
Within a day, the ground is sodden and mucky enough to give the survivors of the Fallow Mire (or Ferelden in general) unpleasant flashbacks, and those who live in tents are issued additional hastily-constructed wooden pallets to raise their floors above the mud. It is worse outside the fortress: streams and rivers have overflowed their banks, rapids run twice as fast as normal, and flash flooding has made even road travel treacherous.
On Cloudreach 17 a mudslide buries the pass into Skyhold from the west, and on the 19th a sheet of snow loosened from a mountainside collapses into the shadowed passage from the east. An Inquisition supply caravan is caught in the latter, scattering wagons and goods across the hillside and leaving a dozen people and horses in need of rescue and medical care.
Healers may find themselves stretched thin, as in addition to the usual rash of blisters and sniffles that come from days of rain and flooding, an illness begins to sweep through Skyhold's ranks from around the 16th onward. It's marked first by climbing fever, then by flashes at the edges of vision—green light and jagged formations that aren't there, beings of light and shadow gathering around people or clustering in corners—and distant voices, coherent for brief moments if you're quiet and still and not trying too hard to listen.
Within a day, the ground is sodden and mucky enough to give the survivors of the Fallow Mire (or Ferelden in general) unpleasant flashbacks, and those who live in tents are issued additional hastily-constructed wooden pallets to raise their floors above the mud. It is worse outside the fortress: streams and rivers have overflowed their banks, rapids run twice as fast as normal, and flash flooding has made even road travel treacherous.
On Cloudreach 17 a mudslide buries the pass into Skyhold from the west, and on the 19th a sheet of snow loosened from a mountainside collapses into the shadowed passage from the east. An Inquisition supply caravan is caught in the latter, scattering wagons and goods across the hillside and leaving a dozen people and horses in need of rescue and medical care.
Healers may find themselves stretched thin, as in addition to the usual rash of blisters and sniffles that come from days of rain and flooding, an illness begins to sweep through Skyhold's ranks from around the 16th onward. It's marked first by climbing fever, then by flashes at the edges of vision—green light and jagged formations that aren't there, beings of light and shadow gathering around people or clustering in corners—and distant voices, coherent for brief moments if you're quiet and still and not trying too hard to listen.
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She almost doesn't want to ask. Weird dreams with whispers in here ear, fine. That being right? Demon shit. She'd have to crawl over to Cass' bed next and find out what was happening to her head.
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This is nothing.
"We got very good at aiming."
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"Nice dream."
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"You dinnit see that."
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There is a weight to the silence. Tension in her shoulders, scowl on her face. Until she just can't take it.
"Yes you friggin did! Demons and magic and shite, that's what it is."
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She hadn't heard any chat, had kept off the crystal thing since the headache started. But it'd be a stupid lie to pick. Too easy to see it's wrong. But-
She rests her check against his chest again.
"Demons got no right poking round my own bitty times."
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Wait, that was sentimental. But- she's small and young and scared and he shouldn't care except for a small part of him that does. He said he'd keep her. This means sentiment.
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"Right, fever's really got you now. Don't go thinking too hard on it, yeah? Some things just are what they are. Most humans with gold don't go and leave doors open to thieving elves. Even kept ones."
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It's hard work. So hard. Appreciate her, Zev. But she pulls back enough again to peer at him.
"You needin' something? Wine, honey, a well hung man?"
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It's a testimony to her dexterity that she can wiggle out from around Zevran and slip to the floor without really rocking the hammock or blankets much. Truth is she'd been more or less living on that diet of wine and honey for that past day or so, meaning she just has to nudge open a chest for her for to get the wine skin.
When she hands it off, it surprisingly isn't the cheap tavern wine. Someone's dipped into Josie's reserves.
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"You...sneaky, lovely woman."
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Wine was wine was wine and it was all for getting drunk. Or nursing achey bodies during fevers. So doesn't so much as curl up next to him again as flop on top and then burrow back into place. Some ribs may be nudged. But clearly exile to the bed was not on the list.
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With none of the sexual tension that might come otherwise. "You are a delight. Never let anyone say otherwise."
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Fever brought hallucinations. Or honesty, of a kind. Wine didn't hurt, at that. So she leaves the skin with him as she settles back into the sickness cocoon fully.
"So what's...that you're doing. With the nice talk to me."
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"...Acceptance?" A beat. "It is a strange thing, isn't it?"
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She says from her current position as a lifeless bone pile on top of him. Whether Sera may be able to make out a bit of Antivian she's not saying. Never pays to play a hand or even try to bluff if not called on for it.
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And now he was sounding like her. Maker. That...mm. Gave her ideas.
"But all's forgiven if you do me next time you're in Bela's bed. If you don't go and get offed by these sniffles first."
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During oral or nothing, Zev. Them's the rules when you play pretending to be Sera.
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