faderift | In the summer, I remember

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In the summer, I remember

WHO: Thranduil, Legolas, anyone good with a bow or who enjoys the wine on offer.
WHAT: ROOTY TOOTY POINT N SHOOTY ARCHERY CONTEST
WHEN: 8th of Bloomingtide, midmorning until sunset.
WHERE: Valley
NOTES: log for a friendly wager!

The eighth of Bloomingtide began as a chilly morning; not quite cold enough to leave frost on the budding flowers and fresh-sprouted plants in the heights of Skyhold, but nearly, nearly.

By the time the sun was been in the sky for a few hours, most of the early-morning chill had burned off, leaving a day that promised to be nearly too-hot for those who would be stuck in full-plate and in direct sunlight. Thranduil wasn’t expecting any to come clanking down to his little fete, but had none the less secured a spot in the shade. Varric had apparently found him while he was still working on organizing—the target launchers are set neatly in line with everything else. Along the clay pigeon launchers were the standard, stock targets, blindfolds—and on a table off to the side was a few bottles of sweet wine beside loaves of brown bread and hard cheeses.

The contest did not pretend to be anything other than what it was; a chance to meet, and mingle, and possibly show off archery skills. The purses wrested next to the wine and cheese and Thranduil himself. He had found a chair to rest in while waiting for the contestants to arrive, dressed plainer than he had so far allowed himself to be seen. On his fingers, four rings glittered—but his confidence in Legolas was so absolute, he doubted he would lose even one before the days was out.

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Genetic trait. That was what he thought, hearing that - possibly a recessive one, like red hair, and one that appeared later in life. It was an interesting thing to consider, and he had to wonder if he got a mage's blood beneath a microscope or put through a genetic coder what he might find.

Even more fascinating was the Qnari culture system. He could not tell if she spoke fondly of that system, or felt it lacking. It seemed... clinical, somehow, but it was not the first culture he had come across that imposed strict reproductive policies. He had the feeling, though, she did not quite approve of the situation.

"So yours appeared in a moment of intense desperation," he said softly, tipping his head slightly at the end though. "Your spells have names?" he asked.

'Not quite approve' is an understatement, but Korrin's rushing through explanations in order to get to 'the good part'. She might backtrack and rant about the Qun afterward, but Kirk might end up regretting it. The subject has long been a hot-button issue for her.

"Oh, yeah. And no, I didn't name them, that's just what they're called by everyone. Chain Lightning's pretty self-explanatory, too. It arcs from one enemy to the next, frying everything within range. Well, except my allies. Don't worry, I know how to avoid friendly fire."

"Always good to know," he chuckled, imagining such a spell - the lightning arching between people, or beasts. It made the hairs on his arms stand on end and he shivered, not even able to imagine what that much electricity would do to a body.

He glanced upward through the leaves of the tree shading them. "If you could, would you give up your magic?" he asked her.

"Andraste's perky tits, no." Korrin recoils at the very thought. "I don't care what garbage the Chantry spews, it's not a curse. It's who I am, and I'm damn proud to be one. Fuck anyone who has a problem with that."

His brows shot up, realizing he might have stepped on a bit of a landmine with that question.

"I didn't mean it that way," he said, doing his best to calm her. "I hardly know enough about it to make a judgement - but so long as it's not harming you, and you're happy, I wouldn't call it a curse either. I was just curious because you made it sound like the magic has consumed much of your life in learning to control it."

At Kirk's reaction, Korrin snaps out of that very unpleasant thought and nods, semi-apologetic. "It has, but I don't regret that. Every mage who's worth something needs to learn that control, or they'll suffer for it. But unlike what the Chantry teaches everyone, a Circle isn't needed for that. My mentor managed to help me just fine without one."

He nodded at that, rolling a bit of bread and cheese together before nibbling at it. Always needing to move, this one. Sitting still was not his forte.

"You know, I don't think you ever explained what a Circle is," he said. "We kind of talked about the Chantry when we first met, but then we kind of got distracted with Wicked Grace and trying to win each other's shirts." He grinned at the memory.

Sitting still is a burden Korrin can sympathize with, though for the sake of the people around them she refrains from moving about too much so as not to block their view. The memory of that Wicked Grace game gets her to smile, though she'll try not to be sidetracked again. "Circles are more or less prisons for mages. I can sugarcoat it, but that won't make it any less true. The Chantry sees mages as a threat to be contained and controlled, so anyone who manifests magic is taken to a Circle by the Templars. They don't have a choice in the matter and if they resist, they're branded as apostates and killed. Most never see or hear from their families again, and they're not allowed to have families of their own. Children of mages are taken away, to be raised by the Chantry. Sibling mages are sent to separate Circles. It's all pretty damn gross, or it was. Now that the mages have rebelled, technically everyone's an apostate."

It sounded like a crazed mix of religion and the fear based actions of America during the Second World War with their internment camps for Japanese and other races related to the Axis Powers. Having a religious fervor added to it seemed a recipe for disaster, and his brow knitted in concern and anger.

"Does the Chantry still exist? As in, are they trying to regain control?" he inquired, twisting bits of bread in his fingers, down to tiny crumbs not worth eating. He glanced to her. "Hard to call someone apostate if they didn't actually believe or follow a religion in the first place."

Korrin nods readily to that last part, raising her glass before taking a sip. "That's what I think, too. How can I be an apostate when I never followed their damned rules in the first place? But they'll call me that anyway, sure as demons spill forth from rifts. And yes, the Chantry exists, but they aren't trying to regain control...yet. Right now, the Divine's dead and they'd need to elect a new one, and follow orders from her. All that's going to take a while, and it's not likely to happen between the civil war and Corypheus fucking everything up."

Edited 2016-05-22 23:18 (UTC)

"Well, one problem at a time, as they say," he nodded, glancing to her, finally stopping the tearing of his bread and slipping a real piece between his lips. He knew he should not get to involved. The Prime Directive had express rules against that. But for all intents and purposes he was living here now, he was a part of this world until he could be taken home.

And Korrin was his friend.

"But if they do decide to become a problem before the one with Corypheus is solved - I'll stand with you," he told her.

That statement earns him a startled stare from Korrin, before a warm smile replaces it. She wasn't thinking to actively recruit him or anyone in that respect, just alert them as to what might happen in the future. Such a promise is more than she ever expected to hear, especially from one with no real investment in her situation...but rifters are full of surprises, sometimes good ones.

"...thank you, Kirk. That means more than I can say. My freedom is precious to me, and I'll fight to keep it--and help others do the same."

He nodded softly, giving her a smile in return and slipping another bite between his lips. It may not had been his fight, but at the end of the day he was not one to sit aside and let injustice prevail. It was not in his blood, in his heart, and if he left this world knowing he could have done something to stop it - he might never forgive himself. The Prime Directive did not cover a situation like this, and he was one man here, not the Fleet. He could make his own decisions.

"Freedom is the right of everyone," he said. "It took longer than I care to admit for my world to figure it out, but we fought for it - continue to fight for it. I believe in the right to believe whatever religion you like - but not in the right of said religion to force itself upon others, and call itself just. I believe people should be judged - and punished - for their actions, and not the mere 'threat' of them." He looked up at her again, his eye sincere, echoing his words. "I wish I could change what you went through. But I can't - so I will stand with you to make sure you never go through it again."

Korrin shakes her head, urged to elaborate since she can't claim what others have been through. Her story is a lot less dark than some. "Other than constantly being on the move -which wasn't a huge burden for me- I didn't endure a lot, compared to many others. Hell, I've had a damn near idyllic life if freedom is your only criteria. But that's why I value it so much; I know what it's like to have it to begin with, and I've seen what the lack of it does to people. Not having the chance to be raised by family, or form one of your own or just see more of the world for yourself, if you choose...that's no way to live."

"It doesn't change what I believe, and even if you did not suffer the worst, the fact that others have... doesn't sit well with me," he said. He meant it made him sick, really, but he did not want to cause a scene at this pleasant gathering.

"Everyone should have the ability and the right to choose how they should live. That's how I see things," he shrugged and gave her a lopsided smile. "I know I can't force that on anyone, but if someone is wanting to fight for, I'll throw my support behind them. Especially my friends."

"And I'm glad to have that support. I'm sure if there's any more tension between mages and others, they'll be glad for it, too. Though tell me, have you had any problems with people seeing you as a rifter?" She has to wonder if that's calmed down any since Galadriel is no longer imprisoned, at least for those rifters who are newer to Thedas. Araceli was among the first to arrive and has established herself, so Korrin likes to think she has it better.

He bit his lip. "I try and keep that part hidden, as best I can." He raised his hand to show the bandages that concealed his shard. "But... I think I am doing all right. Some people are more distrustful of me than others, but I do honest work where I get it, so I think I have built a reputation for that. And I have found a comfortable place to spend most of my nights." His lips twitch into a pleased little grin. "I have been in worse spots before, though I admit I do wish I had a more stable source of income."

Korrin raises an eyebrow at the conceaing bandages, though it brings to mind how many times she's seen Araceli tuck back her left hand or hide her palm up her sleeve. Given Sina's unintentional rift creation months ago, she wouldn't be surprised if hard feelings toward rifters still lingered from that. "Fear makes people do stupid, awful things. If tension rises to the point where there might be trouble, say something. I'm not here for mage rights only to slam the door in others' faces. As for stable sources of income, that depends on what you can do and what's available. Cullen or any of the other advisors might have something, if you have talent that dovetails with a need of theirs."

"I appreciate that," he tipped his head to her, glad to know he had someone else at his back. He knew he could count on Sam, and he would hope others, but hearing it helped him to relax. Not that he planned to get into much trouble, but with his luck... it would happen.

He shrugged at the mention of talents. "I'm a captain back home, but I initially had training in engineering and computers. Which.. don't exist here. I know hand-to-hand combat, and I'm teaching Sam, but I don't think many people would be interested."

Engineering she understands on some level, though computers just have Korrin raising an eyebrow. She does perk up at that last part, though. "I know some hand-to-hand, in case I'm spent on mana and my staff isn't in reach. And because I can't blast idiots here with magic, but a groping drunk asshole at the bar can still be punched. If you want to spar sometime, let me know."

He grinned at the mention of sparring. He had mostly kept his sessions to Sam or with a practice dummy on the training grounds. He had not yet thought to ask someone else to spar - not for lack of desire, but because he wasn't sure anyone would want to or have the skills to spar with him as he wanted. But if Korrin was willing to try...

"I would appreciate it," he nodded to her. "Sam is teaching me the staff, so I'd be happy to have a similar arrangement with you. Teach you hand-to-hand in exchange for learning another weapon."

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In the summer, I remember

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