[Open] Save tonight, fight the break of dawn

[justice_is_blond]

WHO: Anders and OPEN
WHAT: The last open log with J!Anders before Justice is gone
WHEN: Mid-Justinian, from around the 8th to the 15th
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Anders, as usual. Prose or brackets work, I've just started everything in prose because that's less html I can screw up.

Healing Tents

Anders (and kitten) are constant sights in the healing tents in Skyhold from morning until evening. One of them works. One of them prefers to play, and is currently most fascinated by a slowly-unraveling string from a scrap of cloth that the larger of the two made sure was dangling down to draw attention.

"Watch the cat," is the warning someone coming in gets first, before being nodded toward the nearest table right away whether they've got a visible injury or not. That they're here for medical reasons is the safest assumption.

Library

He can be found here an early evening, paging through older books with a few pieces of parchment next to him where he's taking notes. Or hoping to. The top page is mostly blank, though, and Anders is frowning as he closes one book and pulls another off one of the few stacks he's made around himself.

People walking past don't even get glances, he's busy and he doesn't care if there are glares shot in his direction right now. People who stop get a glance up with a raised eyebrow and neutral-as-he-can-make-it expression.

Training Circle

It's early. Ridiculously early, early enough to be considered late the next day and that's why he's here now, working with his staff against a dummy. An opponent would be better, but few are here at this hour, and no one who was there when he arrived is someone he'd trust to work instead of actually attack. That being said, for once he's not seemingly radiating irritation and aggravation and he's even looking over as other people start to show up. He could use a hand and he knows it.

Hot Springs

He enters a little hastily, freezing after sweating in the cold and needing to get ready to head into the healing tents. There's not a lot of time to linger. ...but that thought fades away once he's fully in the water. It's so warm that he's sinking in to his chin almost right away, and really only leaving his face above water so he can keep an eye on Purrelden as the kitten chases a beetle.

Courtyard

Not since his Detlef days has he actually sat out here for a time. Dinner tonight is a simple affair, a few strips of meat washed down with a weak excuse for ale along with some a handful of fruit and nuts, but it seems better out here in the open air. People passing by get a nod whether they look at him with a smile or a scowl; he's actually not in a mood to fight right now. In a week's time he might be dead, he might be entirely without hope of having his head to himself again, or he might be alone in his head. It's an odd feeling, and the chill breeze and stars seem perfectly suited for it. There's room on the bench to join him, a cat on his shoulder, and he's... at peace.

[For Cole]

Since River and Simon's disappearance, Anders has been looking out for glances of Cole more often, just... checking on the boy. He's worried about River, and while she and Cole aren't exactly the same, thinking of one brings the other to mind often. Popping up to the third floor of the tavern one evening bears fruit and Anders smiles as he heads over to join Cole.

"Hello. I... I realize I've not actually thought of what to say when I do run into you. You're doing well?"

[For Zevran]

This speech, however, he's practiced repeatedly, and as Anders knocks on Zevran's door with a package in hand, there's a whole lot of amusement in his voice.

"Zevran? I know you said not to bring back a cow, but..."

[For Nate]

It's ridiculous. It's ridiculous, and potentially useless, and there's not a chance that Nate will hate the wriggling animal in Anders' arms because Nate is Fereldan. In fact, he'll probably love it. Anders is counting on that. He hadn't exactly been counting on Purrelden being confused, though, so the cat on his head digging small claws in as she struggles to stay perched and far away from the tiny confusing barking thing is not something he'd been prepared for. Anders ducks into their tent awkwardly, hoping Nate's in there and talking without even looking.

"A little help, please?"


Wildcard me!

[Want something with Anders? Come on in! Start a header, or poke me on Plurk at Nadat for one. He's easily found around the healing tents in Skyhold and around Camp Shady Fucker/the Warden camp.]

Comments

[pinprick]

Nathaniel sets aside knife and whetstone and is quickly on his feet, raising his hands to take...a puppy? A very odd-looking puppy. With the musculature of an adult. A mabari adult. It actually looks like an incredibly small adult mabari, no bigger than Purrelden.

Do people not understand the point of mabari?

All the same? It's cute. It's so damn cute Nathaniel's entire face lights up as he takes the dog. Then, the most undignified sounds come out of him.

"It's a widdle puppy!" he says in a high-pitched tone, forgetting himself.

[justice_is_blond]

Success. Nate is already baby talking the mabari, which says everything Anders had hoped to hear. Anders smiles as he starts extricating Purrelden from his hair. It takes a little time and a little hair pulled out, but eventually he has the kitten down, and by then he's fairly certain he and cat have been forgotten by the archer.

"She's yours. If you'll have her. Because there's so clearly doubt there."

[pinprick]

"Mabari pick you, not the other way round." But it's clear his immediate adoration for the creature is returned as he lovingly scratches along the dog's spine, receiving sloppy kisses along his jaw. "This is some sort of miniaturized dog, isn't it? I've heard of people breeding pets like this, but never with mabari."

healing tents, laughs, cries

[eviscerates]

Ruby has come to accept two things. First of all, her shard sucks. Secondly, she is now an actual Disney princess. The rosewood ring on her right hand ring finger isn't going anywhere, and it leaves a trail of daisies and buttercups and little blue and red flowers in the grass behind her as she walks. When she leans against a stone wall not too far off from the tents to wait for whoever is available first the vines crawling up it grow thicker, red flowers peeking out where the plant (clematis, her mind supplies) had seemed half dead and dormant, before.

It's weird, but she's dealing with it.

She's waiting because people were busy and she'd rather not interrupt work when it sounded like things might calm down soon; she's got a big stash of elfroot (looking very vibrant, really) and some reports for Adelaide. Ruby can hear footsteps coming toward her without looking, up, although when she does she will realise the red-orange trumpet flowers of the clematis have gotten a little out of hand in her immediate vicinity. Oh well??? Her life.

"Hey, Anders." Long time no emotional talk on the network, 'sup.

[justice_is_blond]

"Ruby." Their exchange had gotten rather emotional, it's true, but not in an aggravating way so the greeting he gives her is on the warm side of neutral. His attention is almost immediately drawn from what she's holding to the flowers... blooming around her?

"...Is that a dozen flowers on the wall, or are you just happy to see me?" It makes no sense. He doesn't care that it doesn't make sense. This absolutely cannot be the secret that got kept from her that lead to her hurting people, but it's certainly magical.

Courtyard

[truestheart]

Henry had been unaware of the fact that a certain mage who helped start this whole damn war was residing in Skyhold. Sure there were whispers about it, but nothing quite mentioned to him yet. Still, when he looks out the window into the courtyard he just see's a man all by his lonesome. He could be sure those were mage robes from up here but that was about it.

From what he could garner of the Inquisition people seemed to generally get along, but he's been here for such a short time who knows what's actually going on beneath the surface. Still, something tells him that that guy was alone or at least...fairly lonely.

Perhaps against what others would call better judgment Henry was walking out into the courtyard. In each hand he holds two white mugs, filled to the top with a sweet smelling brown liquid hinted with the scent of cinnamon. When he's finally in front of Anders, one mug is extended out to them. "It's cold out here so I thought you'd like this," the teen says, his voice not hostile or fearful, just small amount of cheerful concern.

[justice_is_blond]

He looks at the young man with a little surprise before his brain kicks in and he's ducking his head in a nod and taking the offered mug.

"Thank you." He's a young mage, no less. Other young people aren't less important, by any means, but Anders most appreciates when he sees a mage helping another mage. The wedges the Templars had driven in between them, fear and stress and not wanting to be seen as plotting or conspiring, could not last. Then again, the help may be because the boy doesn't know who he is.

"It's definitely cold. I was a little unaware of it, though. Thinking." Probably not what most people would want to hear. He gives the young mage a wary smile and holds out a hand while bracing for the worst. "I'm Anders. You're welcome to join me if you'd like."

NO COWS

[ombranera]

"If you brought a cow, Anders, I will respectfully and gently cleave your head from your shoulders and deliver it to Nathaniel as a drinking vessel." That is- a bit extreme even for him, but he has not been sleeping well, Lucci is behind him gnawing upon a bit of enchanted something or other meant to ease his teeth but wailing because he likes the way it makes Doghren howl- and Doghren is howling.

Zevran is not, in any shape or form, in the mood. "So it had best not be a cow."

[justice_is_blond]

...He sounds stressed and tired. Any other mood, and Anders would harass him, continue the joke, but Zevran clearly isn't feeling it. Plus it's hard to yell over the cacophony coming from Zevran's room.

"It's... Well. I can't say it's not a cow, but I can say it won't meet with your disapproval. May I come in before I annoy everyone with shouting in the hall?"

Hot Springs

[universal_charm]

<sub>[ Kirk was a regular at the hot springs. He wasn't to sure what the Thedasian standards of grooming and hygiene were, but he kept to what he knew from his own world. He wasn't getting around quite as much, recovering from the wounds inflicted during the ritual with Anders, but he was... well, being a horrible patient. At the least he could excuse this as coming to keep the wounds clean.

He spots Anders in the pool, and the kitten too, shaking his head. The man really had a thing for cats, didn't he? ]</sub>

You won't be convincing me to take that one home.

_{[ He pointed at Purrelden before slipping into the waters. ]}

[justice_is_blond]

I wouldn't let you if you tried.

[He raises an eyebrow as Kirk comes in, though, watching the man's movements to see how well Kirk was healing. Not as well as could be hoped, if he could guess, not as poorly as could be feared.

Anders glances at the cat, contemplating calling her close. After a few moments he scoots to the wall to do so, coming out of the water enough to show the reason for his hesitation - scars. The marks of a whip on his back, of a sword through his heart, of shackles on his wrists. There's no lingering to his movements as he pulls the kitten back from probing at an ancient crack in the wall. If she heads in there, there's no telling what she'll find, or where she'll come out.]

She's mine.

[Purrelden gets deposited back on his towel, next to her small metal ball, and then Anders is sinking back in the water.]

How are you feeling?

Courtyard

[demonicbeauty]

The number of reasons Ariadne loved the courtyard were almost as infinite as the stars. She loved being able to climb up into the high places. The trees reminded her of home. She loved being able to work her fingers through the earth, when the day had managed to vex her.

And she loved to see the many faces of Skyhold as they passed through.

Every single person had a different reason for coming to the courtyard. Sometimes, Ariadne made a game of guessing.

Other times, she figured the direct approach was best.

She was sitting in a tree, carving herself a flute with a pilfered kitchen knife when she spotted him. Oddly enough, it wasn't his scent or the fact that he had a cat on his shoulder that caught her attention. It was the way that other people were looking at him. This was someone of import, but just why, Ariadne couldn't say.

Direct approach, she supposed. And she dropped down from her branch onto the bench. "Hello."

[justice_is_blond]

He startled despite his peaceful feeling, hand jerking up to keep his cat secure even as he twitches back from the woman who has suddenly dropped down next to him.

"Uh." It's far from the dumbest thing he's ever said, but it's certainly not eloquent. "Hello." AT least that's a step upward. Anders looks up at the branches as if they may hold several more young women, and is mostly relieved they don't.

"Do you often do that? Hop down from trees to greet people?"

Hot Springs

[ancarrow]

It was rare that Eirlys got this much time to herself. As she hadn't a room of her own to return to, sleeping when she could in whichever cot in the healing tents happened to be empty at the time, she'd tried to find quieter places in which to decompress and to practice in secret the basic reading and writing tips that Korrin was giving her. That had been her intention when she'd wandered down to the hot springs tonight, but when she arrives the temptation to just relax and soak and try to banish the ache from her bones is far too strong.

She sinks down into the warm water until only her head is visible, her long hair floating in a halo around her, rubbing and massaging sore muscles and feeling as though she's doing something almost scandalous just by treating herself to this.

"I hope you don't mind the company."

[justice_is_blond]

He'd opened his eyes briefly when someone had come in, given her a faint smile, and closed them again while she got situated. Purrelden's currently napping on the towel, Anders is warm, and Eirlys isn't a threat. When she speaks he opens them up again.

"I don't mind at all. It's rather nice here, isn't it? I've not been in a while, but this is so much better than the river by the Warden camp." He sits up a little more so that his shoulders are out of the water as he continues to lean against one of the walls of the spring. "How are things? Have you stayed in Skyhold the last month, or were you elsewhere?"

[colecomfort]

It's been difficult for anyone to know Cole's mood since the return from the Approach. He's always been hard to find, of course. It would be easy to think that since he arrived back at Skyhold, he simply went back to his normal routine.

In truth, he's been quietly contemplating. Considering. Waiting for the right moment, the right person to ask.

"He wasn't real, but he still set the charges," he muses, a piece of a dream, or a memory, drifting across his consciousness.

"...I've been wanting to ask you something."

[justice_is_blond]

Still set the charges. Does that mean him? The Chantry? Except he's very much real, which means that Cole gets a confused look as Anders takes a seat next to him.

"Of course. Anything you'd like to ask." Cole can already get anything he needs from Anders' mind; there's no point in denying him answers.

Training Circle

[obi_wanmanshow]

It is, indeed, very early, or very late.

The sun has not yet begun to color the sky with false-dawn, and the last of the previous night's drinkers have gone away to their beds some hours since. The vaulted roof of the heavens winks with light and all of Skyhold is at peace, in its own way. Oh, it's never completely quiet; a baby cries somewhere, and there is the constant soft sound of fire in the torches, and the footsteps of the odd passerby. But it is truly much quieter than at any other time of night or day, a smooth, lonely sensation that allows one to, even in the midst of so many lives, entertain the fanciful notion that he is completely, utterly alone.

The witching hour.

And of course Obi-Wan was awake. He hadn't been able to sleep through the night since returning from Adamant, and very little helped. Comparisons of nightmares and plagues had seemed needlessly poetic to him-- but the loss of sleep was eventually enough to send him wandering, out of bed and restless in more ways than one. Eventually, he found someone else who wasn't sleeping. Actually, if there's an opposite to sleeping, Anders is doing it, working hard even before anyone else has so much as rolled out of bed to greet the grey promise of day. Not that there is any, just yet.

"Good morning," He says softly, and it's loud in the quiet, with little but the sound of Ander's own efforts to mark the time. It is in no reasonable man's mind, morning, "Is everything alright, here?"

[justice_is_blond]

The speaker gets a half-smile. Anders gives the dummy one more solid thwack before resting his staff against his shoulder.

"Is everything ever alright? It seems to me that there's always something going wrong." The smile grows a little as Anders walks over toward the man to retrieve his waterskin and take a drink. "I'm not particularly skilled at hand-to-hand. I've had some help with it, but I need to get better. Because, unfortunately, things are not yet all good and peaceful. Though that begs the question of whether or not they ever can be."

Justice believes that things can be proper and right. Justice also believes that owning a cat is a form of slavery. Anders has to take the spirit's opinion with more than a few grains of salt.

"And good... morning, such as it is. Were you lacking sleep as well?"

i'm not sorry.

[elegiaque]

At his present angle, the first thing Anders sees of Gwenaëlle is her bare feet; then the rest of her when she crouches, momentarily diverted from her intention (of shedding robe and setting down towel to slide into the springs) by the very pressing necessity of coaxing Purrelden away from her prey and into her easily and immediately affectionate hands.

Her voice is difficult to mistake, even were he less familiar with the scarring on her body that her immodest robe does not properly conceal; he isn't in the minority in Skyhold in having not heard it pitched quite like this, playful, not at once aware of who else is present--

"Hello, pretty thing, who do you belong to? What a very good thing you are. Oh, no, darling, it's dead, terribly dull now, yes - sharp little claws, yes you do have," little noises with her tongue pressed to her teeth, her thumb stroking underneath the mighty hunter's adorable chin.

i know

[justice_is_blond]

He stiffens as she picks up the cat, watching, a little tense. In reality, she hasn't shown any signs of being cruel. That doesn't mean he doesn't worry. It's a day ending in y, therefore he worries.

"She belongs to me." Anders' shoulders are out of the water as he stands. "She's Hero of Purrelden, and the prettiest thing in Skyhold." Even prettier than him. He's not biased at all.

training circle.

[shieldwalls]

The early hour isn't a deterrent for Aveline, but a positive. Less people around to interrupt, and she has never balked at waking up early -- what better way to do so than go for a little practice?

And since returning from the trip into the Fade, sleep is a dearly missed friend. Coming and going as it pleased, but barely allowing for a full night of it.

Might as well be productive, with this restlessness. At home, it might have been with working until Donnic pulled her back into bed, but as neither are here, that is no option. Her footsteps are not as loud without the heavy armor, and she passes few others in the dim light before sunrise. But upon arriving at the grounds, she hears the sound of another out here first before seeing him, and she drops her shield by a dummy -- being none too silent herself.

By this point, Aveline knows who it is, and he likely will have seen her -- they've only spoken the once since she arrived, but the hot bite of anger isn't with her this time. With a terse nod, she goes about... stretching, gathering her gear but still watching him. After a moment, she breaks her silence with some advice. "Widen your stance."

[justice_is_blond]

The clank has him jerking around and looking at her, a little tense, before he sees who it is. For a moment he holds her gaze before turning back to what he's working on. She hasn't been hostile, hasn't harmed mages, and she's not the backstabbing sort. Even annoyance is a little hard to muster right now.

Her words get another glance before he nods and does so, looking to her to confirm that it's better. She'd tried to help him learn how to fight without magic before. He'd been stupid. Though in his defense, swords are heavy and when is he going to be running around wielding one?

"I don't suppose you know anything about staff combat? Or is it all just the 'drive pointy bits into fleshy bits' style?"

Library [oh lort here we go]

[solutus]

When he looks back on it later it’s going to feel ridiculous that Fenris didn’t notice him sooner. Didn’t somehow sense his proximity through some innate rage-imbued radar that might’ve prepared him somehow for exactly the scenario he’s imagined a thousand different ways, especially in the past months, each and every indulgent fantasy ending with Anders’ heart slowing as it beat heavily in his palm, removed cleanly from his chest.

Of course it doesn’t go this way though, because the Maker is apparently fond of jokes and Fenris doesn’t expect to come across him so casually, standing in the library like he has every right to be reading and breathing and occupying the same space as everyone else who isn’t an Abomination who single-handedly caused devastation on an scale bordering unfathomable. He's avoided Anders for some time, impotent and resigned in his fury out of respect for the Inquisition's law and Hawke's decision, or so he tells himself as much as it's a constant unscratchable itch under his skin.

He doesn’t see him at first. Instead he’s looking down at the books he’s chosen to smuggle out of the library with plans to steal them back to his room to boggle over for a few days in attempt to riddle out the secrets of written language. It’s his own fault too when he all but collides with the man, an easy smile and a quick apology at the ready before he sees exactly who he has nearly toppled.

Eyes narrowing, Fenris bristles like a cat, a silent hiss curling his lips instead. “You,” he says, low and pointed.

One more time, everybody feelin' fine?

[justice_is_blond]

"And to think the day had been so nice until now. I should have known." He'd seen the change, and it's satisfying in a way. He likes that his mere presence can infuriate Fenris still, can set the mage-hating fool on edge. Sure, he's also been hoping that what might be his last week would be peaceful, but he's never had his hopes granted.

"But what, does this mean you simply go around shoving into mages without any care who they are? That seems petty even for--no, it doesn't. I simply forgot what you were like." It was probably an accident. He doesn't give a care. "It's been some time. Too bad it wasn't longer."

And then, in a direct attempt to imply Fenris was a particularly old and toothless cat, Anders turns a page in his book and bends down to make a note on his sheet. He doesn't actually see something worth noting. He simply wants to be an ass.