lost myself and I am nowhere to be found

[fightingale]

WHO: catch-all for Leliana, Ruby & Herc
WHAT: all sorts! some open prompts for each, as well as closed starters.
WHEN: throughout Bloomingtide
WHERE: various
NOTES: Depression, discussion of death, alcohol, potential violence, others to be added as necessary. If we're threading and something comes up in a tag, feel free to add a warning to the subject line.

Starters in the comments! If you'd like a personalised thing then just prod me via pp (@karmacharging) or pm and I will whip something up C:

Comments

morrigan. vaguely mid bloomingtide.

[fightingale]

It was a tradition that had begun the night she, Silas and Sketch liberated themselves from Harwen Raleigh, in the truest sense of the word. They liberated the entire world of his presence, cast down onto the rocks and his carcass claimed by the Waking Sea. That night there had been considerably more Antivan brandy consumed than what she had here, but she has half a mind to carry on once the bottle is done.

Two thirds of it are drunk, and not for the first time she holds up her cup, toasting with a murmured "Atrast tunsha, salroka," before tipping it out onto the stone floor with a quiet splash before she refills. This cup is tipped back so that the plum brandy burns her throat.

It is night and she is alone, and that is the way of the Nightingale.

[arcaneadvisor]

When one wished to find the spymaster, the rookery tended to be the place to go, no matter the hour. So when she went only to find a few scouts tending to the ravens with only shrugs and 'the Nightingale is not here at the moment, I can tell her you were looking' from those brave enough to keep up with such answers even beneath her glare, Morrigan goes looking. She tries the war room since she is here as the arcane advisor, and though Orlais has little support to offer, she was the last one truly at Celene's side but no, not there either. She tries the gardens, on the off chance. The libraries. She takes to the skies instead to make it faster, flitting through the halls for where are ravens not a common sight in Skyhold?

In the cold and dark of the dungeons, she does not expect to find Leliana, turning back swiftly with a scowl and an arched brow.

"What are you doing?" It's practically a demand, though Leliana cannot know quite how long Morrigan has been looking for her. "Why are you speaking dwarven?"

Why yes that catches her attention right now more than the drinking but she'll get to that too.

[fightingale]

"Morrigan."

Of course it would be Morrigan. There is something miserably appropriate about being here - it was a dungeon where last she saw Tug, where she saw the remains of what Raleigh's men had done to him. Her friend.

"It is a farewell," she explains, as if the meaning of them might explain the logic operating behind all of this, tone quite even and calm. "I believe it means 'May you always find your way in the darkness.' Something like that, at any rate."

Another cup is poured, and she grimaces a little before downing that as well, liquor making warmth pool in her gut and starting to make her lips feel strange. "'Salroka' means 'friend,' but there is more nuance to it."

open. ( freedom talks/general rookery adventures. ) mid(ish?) bloomingtide.

[fightingale]

At least the glitter is finally done. The time would come for her revenge, but in the meantime things like war and advocating freedom were getting rather in her way, and her satisfaction on that count was forced back— no matter. The opportune moment would come.

Glitter and vengeance aside, Leliana can be found in the Rookery at almost any time, no matter how late or early, and whether she sleeps at all is a matter of some speculation. Most often when someone arrives she is handing a message to a scout, or perhaps a raven is hopping closer for treats and affection, or she may be murmuring orders or simply committing them to ink with precise, careful writing.

She does not usually need to look to know that someone is approaching, but there are times when she is engrossed in her work, and doesn't care to interrupt herself.

"Did you need something?"

( ooc: prose or brackets are fine! if you'd like Leliana to have sent for your character to discuss something particular that is totally okay, but hammering out some details would be good :Db )

just a quick chat?

[serannas]

"Yes," Ellana says, stopping beside the table where Sister Nightingale looks hard at work. She doesn't want to take up too much of the spymaster's time, but she's been considering this option even before she took her first flight as a bird.

"I've become a shapeshifter under Morrigan's guidance, and I wanted to make myself available to you if you ever have need of me as a scout. I can become a sparrow, so I can get a bird's eye view of areas, and I recently learned to become a fennec too, which might come in handy in areas where they're everywhere and pretty inconspicuous. With time, I'll pick up additional forms too."

Ellana has a lot on her plate, and she isn't thinking of abandoning all her other commitments to become an official scout, but she sees an opportunity to be of use, so she'll offer it.

[fightingale]

That gets her attention rather effectively, though there is a pause before she answers.

"That would be invaluable," she admits, considering Ellana. "I would be very glad to take you on as a scout, and to offer you training."

Leliana even offers something that could vaguely be interpreted as a smile, maybe.

"May I ask what inspired the idea?" There were other shapeshifters - thus far, none of them had offered their services, and the Inquisition had quite rightly offended the elves with matters surrounding Galadriel and Gavin.

Status Report - PRE second ritual

[fleurdesel]

As per custom whenever they both find times for these meetings, Adelaide has a sheaf of papers, copies of her notes in longhand, initiatives and lessons that are going well, things that could be worked on- what she would normally offer a First Enchanter were she yet in the Spire and had a more manageable class size to mind. Here there are many mages and the council does what it can for most.

Part of that is keeping the advisors in the loop.

"Sister Nightingale-" She's early today as she has been every time before. "I have the notes from my research as requested and reports from the Council."

Freedom talks!

[gatheringstorm]

[ooc: Leliana doesn't need to have sent for her in this case, but I'd love for them to get around to that topic somehow.]

Korrin would be genuinely surprised if she ever caught Sister Nightingale off-guard by her approach. The heavier tread thanks to her greater size usually gives the Vashoth woman away even when she's trying to be stealthy, a rare occurrence. That's no exception today, either, and Korrin knows better than to think she can slip past all the staring ravens without at least one of them giving her presence away. She'll live, somehow.

Pausing before Leliana's able, Korrin doesn't seem to mind Leliana's singular focus. The spymaster is constantly busy, balancing far more than the mercenary mage could possibly imagine. Still, some things need to be said. "I wanted to thank you for helping me, now that I'm clear-headed enough to make it up here without tipping over." There's a brief, self-depreciating smirk at that. "I know I was a pain in the ass during that weird plague going around, and a heavy one at that. You had more than enough to do, but you still took time to help drag me where I needed to go. I appreciate that."

[trouvaille]

"A bit of guidance, if you'd give it," Gwenaëlle says, the smile audible for all that Leliana needn't immediately look up to see it. Putting her best foot forward with the Nightingale, she hopes; if any part of her might bristle that she doesn't merit the whole of her immediate attention...well, easier swallowed when it's Leliana, who most assuredly has more pressing concerns than cosseting a debutante. "I hoped to speak with you a little, on the subject of my editorial."

A brief pause.

"I suppose - on the subjects that will be in it, going on."

Where to concentrate? What to avoid? It's one thing to clear the work with the advisors before its edited, but she suspects she'd do well to have some notion in advance of what will and will not be approved at Josephine's desk. Better that than to lose half her work to red ink and be forced into hasty rewrites to fill space, and...

And there is a lot to think of. The direction she can take, the way she can use the opportunity she's been given. What future opportunities she can parley it into if she's clever and thoughtful and listens. This will not be wasted - none of it. Already one door opens another, Arainai giving her his account of the fifth Blight...

Leliana is the right person to talk to, she thinks.

bard talks;

[foxsays]

Though she does make a point to leave brief updates on her training, short and to the point as she can be without leaving too much out, Araceli is painfully aware of how busy the Nightingale must be, and so she tries her best not to take up too much of her teacher's time. It's enough that she agreed to teach her at all, so she tries to stick to anything relating to their lessons, and letters seem to be best, slipped in here and there when she's on her travels about Skyhold, sometimes with a question when she's unsure about the exact context of certain remarks in books because she knows exactly what perspective books will be written from.

Still, she would like to get to know her teacher better, and now that she's had some time to catch up with Korrin and other friends since returning to Antiva, she makes herself presentable and climbs the steps to the rookery rather than appearing from one of the other directions. It's closer to evening, a book tucked under her arm along with several papers suggesting that once again she's spent time in the library working away though closer inspection will show that some of the papers are letters, letters that cannot be sent but are written all the same. Mama, Papa, Leandra, three that can be seen at least.

"Nightingale, I hope this evening finds you well," she greets with a smile, inclining her head in the polite bow that's customary for her. "If you have the time I hoped we might speak? We have not had the chance since the mission to Antiva, nor since after Madame Vivienne's soiree."

rookery!

[levered]

"I made you something."

Clarke is hovering at the top of the stairs, still, when she says this: a moment of trepidation before she presses forward as if not afraid, chin high, eyes only as shadowed as always. The something in her hands is a roll of paper that she uncurls on an empty corner of Leliana's work table for display. Before it was a gift, the vellum was a letter—inconsequential, a noble's concerns about linens and the weather—and the writing shows through the watercolored drawing laid over it.

It's a nug, of course, rendered with a naturalist's precision but an artist's eye for light, wearing an Orlesian mask and elaborate hat—not the kind of whimsy Clarke indulges in for her own sake, but it seems like something a woman who names a nug Schmooples might appreciate.

"Thank you," she says, because that's the point. Part of the point. It is also, perhaps, meant to butter the spymaster up some very small amount, if that's possible to do. Clarke doesn't know. And she manages not to look afraid in any way a layperson would notice, although there's no hiding it entirely. "I need to tell you—"

She stops. Hoping to be told it isn't necessary, maybe.

introductions + ~mage freedom~ things + sassy orlesian redheads: the thread

[audacieuse]

"Sister Nightingale, isn't it?" Alysanne's smile is no less genuine for the fact that the Inquisition's spymaster intimidates her just slightly, more than she thought she would meeting her in person. And Alysanne hears gossip, of course, as would anyone who's been in Skyhold more than a day. Some of what she's heard regarding Leliana's opinions on mages interests her a great deal, truthfully, but she'll keep that to herself. For the moment.

"Alysanne de Forestière of the Markham Circle," she introduces herself, conspicuously without either including her rank (for all she knows, Leliana knows it already) or implying that she is formerly of the Circle, regardless of the fact that it is, for all intents and purposes, dissolved. "I've recently arrived at Skyhold and I've been... getting acquainted, I suppose."

Her expression goes a little apologetic. "I'm sorry if I've interrupted you at your work. You must be very busy."

open. mid bloomingtide.

[eviscerates]

Every time she did this, Emma seemed to sort of materialise out of nowhere to tell her to get down, or she seemed to know about it later and gave Ruby a look. Maybe it was just that she looked far too guilty or maybe Emma was some kind of mind reader, but the point is that she was always there in some form or another. There were Emma-shaped consequences.

Now Ruby's cloak is pooled on the ground, crimson brocade crumbled under the leather boots resting on it, as Ruby holds out her hands and walks down the ramparts as if they were a balance beam. She doesn't feel dangerous or at risk of just taking one step wrong and letting herself fall, but she doesn't feel great, either.

Ruby looks out over the Frostbacks, at the dark silhouette of them against the pinks and purples of the sky that has been lost its sun, and she sighs a little, exhausted, as her hair whips about her face. "Where are you?"

[arcaneadvisor]

With Kieran safely tucked up in bed, the door warded, his sending crystal close that he can reach her should he need it, Morrigan takes to the skies enjoying time above Skyhold where none can bother her. She has been beset by constant rumours, by incessant questions, as well as worries of a rather more personal nature that she doesn't actually know what to do with.

So flight. Only she spots something, or rather someone rather familiar and she lands far enough away so as not to startle her into falling. After all, she rather likes Ruby, and she wouldn't wish for her to fall.

"I had heard that your friend went missing," she says quietly, though she hadn't had much to add at the time. It had felt like something between the rifters in truth, not for someone still learning if she even has friends in the first place from ten years ago. "Do you believe she might be out there?"

shale. (?????)

[fightingale]

Some things are left aside far too long, and this is undeniably such a thing. Ten years was likely long enough that things might be forgotten and moved on from and ideas abandoned, but the drawing closer of this month and the reuniting of old friends had reminded her, and so it was done.

It is with a parcel under her arm, wrapped in paper, that Leliana moves down the stairs, still with the uprightness and severity of the Nightingale, but with just the slightest spring in her step.

"Shale," she offers by way of greeting, walking towards the golem. "How are you?"

[dwarfing]

The golem was standing where they usually did, watching the people mill about. At least the regulars in Skyhold were getting used to them by now, so there was a lot less annoying questions these days. (...and a lot less broken stone.)

Hearing Leliana's voice, Shale turns with a slight quirk of their heavy brow. They hadn't seen her in a while, and if she came down here, surely something was up. She was always busy being a sneaky bird, after all.

"I am unchanged," they say with a shrug, remembering Alistair's words. "As always. What is the Sister doing down here?"

isabela. mid bloomingtide.

[eviscerates]

It always starts the same way. Deeply inhaling the scent of Emma's cloak, the one that had reminded Ruby of Snow's in the old days - pale, with flowers in the pattern. This time her run around the Frostbacks ended with a slide into water that might have been dangerous if not for the Wolf, and dragging herself out to start the long walk back after three days away from Skyhold.

Ruby's parked at the bar with her shoulders a little slumped, hair still damp and looking down at her empty cup with a sigh before nodding to the barman. "Another, please."

The sound of a familiar voice somewhere in the vicinity gets a bit of a smile out of her, and Ruby shakes her head. "And give Isabela another one of whatever she had last, too."

[easternseaqueen]

Isabela comes over at the arrival at her surprise drink.

"If I didn't know better, sweetness, I'd think you were trying to spoil me."

She cocks her head at Ruby's state--damp hair, slumped shoulders and all.
"Trying to drown something tonight?"

ruby at the rift

[eviscerates]

lol just kidding it's over here

benuta. ???

[twelvelabours]

Their last chat either went all right or piss poorly, and Hercules (not for the first time) finds himself at a loss in terms of how to figure out which one it was. Communication outside of battle tactics and orders had never much been his forte.

At any rate, he finds himself on the look out for her a while after, because thoughts are troublesome things when you're still not set to hold a shield or swing a sword, and when you keep being told to sit and wait and rest. Suddenly all you've got are thoughts and that damn song just rings louder.

They are in the gardens, this time, when they stumble across one another, his clothes hanging less loosely and his back straighter as Max pads gleefully towards her. "Councilor," he says, with a polite nod and a bit of a smile, maintaining a respectful distance. "Busy day?"

[ungovernable]

The sickness that had struck the hold not even a full day later had spared her from examining that moment beyond her determination that it had been - a foolish thing, but done. Not charming, or clever, or...just done. He would not be visiting, she informed Teren (among other things, things she might yet live to regret), and that was all.

It isn't all. Apparently.

"Hercules," she says, reflexive even as he is so courteous of her professional title; Husband noses inquisitively at Max and Benevenuta catches his collar, habitual, gives him a scratch as she tries to decide whether or not to rise from where she'd settled with a book. The gardens aren't peaceful, per se, there is foot traffic and work to be done, but - she finds that relaxing in these rare moments she takes for herself.

"It always is, isn't it? But I've a moment."

merrill. ??? WHENEVER.

[eviscerates]

The search for Emma is going nowhere. Not literally, literally speaking the search for Emma is going all over the Frostbacks, and Ruby is starting to suspect that maybe she needs to spread her search further. She's been running for hours, relentless, sniffing and tracking and doubling back and doing everything she can, and she's got nothing.

In retrospect, she should have known the ravine was too wide and that she was too tired. She lands in the water with a painful splash of water slapping up her side. Somehow she keeps her head from going under. And then there's a small waterfall, and everything becomes a lot less fun.

Now the Wolf is paddling along the side of the river to try and find herself a way out, clambering up rocks and slipping so that she falls against them with a thud.

[chainlightning]

She may be Dalish but she's never been a hunter, and honestly, her tracking skills are sort of abysmal. They're certainly not up to par when compared to a wolf, which means Merrill is mostly around to keep the morale up and use magic on anything that won't leave them alone.

And, quite suddenly, to fish Ruby out of the river.

There's a shriek as soon as her friend slips and falls, Merrill rushing to the edge and swearing under her breath when she sees the waterfall. A barrier is quickly cast, just in case, and then she's holding out her staff.

"Grab on!" She assumes Ruby will use her teeth and not change back, or at least hopes so, though in truth she's not certain if she's strong enough to pull her back either way.

athos.

[eviscerates]

She really isn't a fan of bears. It's not that she isn't well qualified to take one on in a fight, but she's been searching for Emma for a couple of days, and her head is still bruised from her collission with an ornately framed Ziggy Stardust. A person would be forgiven for thinking she's not at her best, and even moreso as she slides down a slope, dislodging branches and pinetree needles.

Her ankle is twisted, and she's pretty sure she's finally lost the damn thing, but they're persistent and seem to turn up just when you finally think they're gone. She continues her slide down the final part of the slope, and her boots crunch down onto the river pebbles as she staggers her way over to the water.

Pulling off her left boot, Ruby hisses a little as she looks down at her ankle. It's seen better days, too, but so has the rest of her. A long inhale, an slow exhale, and then her eyes snap open, green and sharp.

"Who's there?"

Not a bear, at least. That was a mercy.

[aeipathos]

He is, as yet, not entirely comfortable within the walls of Skyhold. So long more or less consistently by himself, so long even before that uncomfortable with large groups of people, ill-accustomed to people amassed in one place meaning anything other than exponentially more reasons to watch one's back - he is acclimating, but the process has been slow, and gradual. In the meanwhile, he makes himself as useful as possible while he can stand to stay within the walls and does his best to remain so when he cannot.

Thus the trips that take him outside them. He gathers what resources he is able to recognise, hunts what he can. The Inquisition is resourceful and has growing allies, but at the same time people within the castle still welcome whatever comes their way, and he would rather remain marginally useful rather than a burden - at least while he is outside the walls he is not relying on what resources they do possess.

Water tends to be a draw for attention but at the same time there are valuable plants that grow not too far from it. Athos isn't actually tracking the bears nearby, but he might have been close enough to hear some of those cracking branches and attempt to investigate. While he wasn't actually attempting to hide, he was following habits and moving somewhat quietly. At least, as much as possible in his armour.

She's clearly injured, but there's no need to get any further than necessary regardless - you never know. So, he emerges a bit more clearly once she acknowledges his presence, staying as far away as he already is, but keeping a hand on his sword nonetheless. If she is a mage, it's not like it will help much, but. It makes him feel better. Plus it's just easier to keep the thing from moving around. "Not whatever brought you here," he says, accent present but dulled somewhat by years of staying outside Orlais.

"Or would you prefer I continued on my way?"