faderift | weep little lion man

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weep little lion man

WHO: Cullen and you
WHAT: jumping in head first! (by which I mean generic open log so that I can get all up in your inboxes)
WHEN: WHOLE MONTH OF JUNE - the afternoon of the 11th to the late morning of the 14th, he will be away from Skyhold.
WHERE: predominantly his office and the battlements around it, with a healthy helping of training his soldiers on the grounds, and the potential for a few other places if someone wants a custom starter
NOTE: When you tag, please tell me what day so I can figure out in what order it all happens. If you don't pick a day, I will pick it for you.

IMPORTANT!!! If you have not already left me links here and had me respond, but you plan to keep any past CR with Cullen, please do not tag this. I will be assuming that anyone who tags here and has not already had their past CR hashed out with me wishes to begin with a fresh slate. Don't worry, he will have another open post soon. I just don't want to wait too long to start playing, and since there are plenty of new characters and plenty of characters who've already been to my OOC post, I figure it's a safe bet that I can get some play now.

OFFICE
One thing that remains constant, that has not and probably will not ever change, is the endless stream of paperwork that crosses his desk. Cullen stands, hands braced and shoulders slumped, reading over a stack of intersecting and conflicting messenger's reports and trying desperately to figure out how to spread their forces when they simply do not have the resources to meet all needs as things currently stand. He sighs deeply, and raises one hand to rub at the knot of tension at the base of his skull. It's not going anywhere. The same can be said for the impressive model of the Frostbacks that messengers have created with scrolls and sheaves of paper and leather pouches along the short edge of his desk.

BATTLEMENTS
Some people say that Cullen has no aptitude when it comes to taking care of himself. Those people are, on the balance, entirely correct. He will argue that he pushes himself too far out of necessity, but that doesn't mean he's half as responsible as he should be when it comes to sleeping or feeding himself. It takes its toll. Usually, he can chase the fatigue away with a brisk walk and a little fresh air. A trip along the battlements to clear his head and gather his scattered thoughts is his go to solution. One he employs quite often.

TRAINING
Cullen does not always survey his troops with a mind toward picking apart their performances and needling them to do a better job. Often, but not always. Sometimes, he just watches. He takes note of particular skill, of someone ill at ease with the weight and balance of their weapon, of someone distracted. Their numbers are not so great that they can afford anything less than 100% from each person under him. Of course, the unfortunate extension of that is that their numbers are not so great that he can afford to turn away willing help. Particularly in light of the disturbingly large contingent of people within Skyhold who push back against the structure of authority whose protection they enjoy. It makes his job, this part of it as well as the less hands on ones, infinitely more difficult. At least the training remains direct and straightforward. Here in the courtyard, it is his job to foster the skills and determination of his volunteers to make them all that they are capable of becoming. It is their job to then give all they have in the service of the Inquisition. He knows he asks for more than is fair. He also knows that he has no choice. He is grateful for every person with the compassion and foresight to give it, anyway.

NEW OPTIONS - PUPPY!
PUPPY OFFICE
As of Thursday the 16th, there is a new addition to Cullen's life, in the form of a blue and white mabari puppy, and his daily routine just got a whole lot more interesting. The dog doesn't have a proper name, and is mostly being referred to as Puppy. Whatever Cullen thought dog ownership would be, it wasn't this. He seems to spend half his day in constant frantic motion, and the other half sleeping and eating. During the quiet times, Puppy can be found sleeping underneath the desk, or occasionally in the crook of Cullen's arm. He can also be found chewing on scrap leather or lengths of knotted rope as he tumbles about the office, though he won't wander too far from the desk and/or Cullen.

PUPPY COURTYARD
He also needs to be walked, and socialized, so a few times a day, Cullen finds himself in quieter areas of the courtyard. He brings treats and teaches Puppy simple tricks, sending him running along the wall to tire himself out, assuring anyone who wanders into the area that the dog is loud, but friendly.

PUPPY WALKWAYS/STAIRCASES/WHEREVER
Puppy might be smart and well behaved, but he is still a puppy, and occasionally one might be treated to the sight of the Commander of the Inquisition running along a battlement, trying to catch a tiny blur of fur with a roll of parchment clamped in his mouth. This is his life now. This is what his life has become.

[[OOC note about Puppy! While he will definitely be energetic and boisterous and do things that people might not like, he will not be outright bad. Please don't write about him breaking things, hurting people or other animals, or antagonizing someone who seems afraid of him. He is a Mabari, well trained for his young age, and very smart. He wants to play, and will absolutely steal things from people, tug on their clothing, and bark for attention, but Puppy will not be destructive or violent. Thanks.]]

11th (full)
visiting puppies
meeting Henry
talking with Bethany
leaving for recon/rescue mission

12th (away from Skyhold)
traveling
rescuing Meoni

13th (away from Skyhold)
traveling

14th
Mia brings him tea
Sera brings him dinner

15th
properly meeting Christine
Cassandra comes to clear the air
Gwen brings her latest publication

16th
Adelaide brings Cullen a puppy

20th
Josephine helps catch Puppy

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Hundreds, to be sure. Some days it feels like thousands. Still, he remembers her request, her name. "Ah. You are the young lady with the red lyrium study." Anything else she could have said about herself pales in comparison to this aspect. She could have told him that she was actually four swans in a clever disguise, and he still would have been more morbidly fascinated by the red lyrium project. This is his newest and most vivid fear, after all.

"Yes," she answers, voice both surprised and slightly pleased at being remembered. "I will, of course, be in contact with yourself and the other advisors on a regular basis, now that things are finally underway."

She says 'finally,' but it was her own caution that caused delays. Researching red lyrium in the library provided nothing beyond the news disseminated by Varric Tethras, and so she'd had to meet with Varric himself to see what he knew. Then she had to research proper ways to contain the red lyrium, as Varric had, and go out to Emprise du Lion to both map out the growth of red lyrium and study the Red Templars themselves. She even sketched them out, though the images are little more than stick figures. Everything was prepared in advance because red lyrium is simply too dangerous to study without safety precautions.

"It is good of you and the others to approve of this endeavor," she adds.

"Approve." He says it with a touch of mirth, then shrugs apologetically. "I recognize the necessity of understanding what red lyrium is capable of. I've just had a fresh reminder." Doesn't mean it doesn't make every hair on his body stand on end at the thought of what she's willingly elbow deep in, so to speak. Fighting those things, once men, now something entirely different. He wonders if he will ever go numb to the pain of it, sitting heavily in his chest.

Her eyebrows lift at his reaction, but she waits a moment until he's finished speaking before she asks, "A fresh reminder? Where, may I ask, did you recently encounter it?" She'll have to add it to her notes; that's for sure.

"Not anywhere near here. No need to worry." He checks himself at that, a little tilt of his head. "Well, not about that." He sighs, and rubs at the back of his head. "A small group North of here." He wasn't the only one in those caves, and he knows how mercenaries tend to talk. It isn't exactly secret, but he would rather not be the one to recount the ordeal, and certainly not here. Of course, that doesn't mean she can't still ask.

"It seems they can be found all over, mining red lyrium." She frowns slightly before looking back out at the landscape. Here the valley is pure white with snow, while in Emprise du Lion, the white was dotted with red spires of lyrium nearly everywhere you looked.

"Was that what they were doing? Did you see any red lyrium on the surface?"

"A group of Red Templars attacking ships on the Storm Coast. They were... mad, desperate for carnage. Keeping corpses for what could grow from them." He shakes his head. It is an unpleasant thought of an unpleasant time. The documentation brought back, the woman rescued and added to their ranks, it makes the trip worth the horror. Still, it does not lessen the horror.

Her lips purse, as they so often do when she's displeased or trying to hold back some other emotion. Right now, it's disgust at all the Red Templars are doing.

"But it was a small group? They are no more?"

"Small group," he confirms with a nod of his head. "Dead now. Very dead." Hacked to pieces and drowned and fried and... nothing they wouldn't have done to Cullen and his group if they'd been given the chance, but still not something worth digging into in any sort of even remotely polite conversation.

Cullen sighs, laughs with no humour, and rubs the back of his neck. "Forgive me. It was a trying experience." Not the death. The death, Cullen is sadly used to. No, it's that this enemy started out very much like him. Templars. Men trying to do their jobs, once upon a time. Not good or bad, he can't possibly know that, but men. Not monsters.

In response to that, Christine gives him a moment. She, like all Circle mages, has a very firm opinion on Templars. Whether a mage is a Loyalist, Isolationist, Libertarian, or Aequitarian, you would be hard pressed to find one who would merely shrug and say they have no opinion on Templars one way or the other. Her experience in Montsimmard was so typically Orlesian. She sat around like a prisoner in a cell, except for the rare walks out in the streets with Templar guards. She knows other Circles weren't so lucky. And she knows that her Circle was unique in that mages could gain some autonomy by playing the Game and playing it well, but Christine had had no interest whatsoever in becoming a nobleman's pet and trying to wrestle power from there. It's her belief that mages should gain freedom for themselves through peaceful means, and not violence or underhanded methods.

"Of course," she finally says. "I have seen them firsthand myself. To most others, they are strangers, but to you and I, they may have once been people we knew, and that makes it more difficult."

"I keep waiting to see a face I recognize," he confesses. It's not unthinkable. Realistically speaking, it will be far stranger if he never sees someone he knows, poisoned and turned into a monster. It's going to happen. He doesn't feel prepared for it. "I'm not sure if it's incredibly brave or incredibly perverse, this research undertaking of yours." It might not be the most polite thing he could say, but at least he's honest?

Honesty is something Christine values. The Ferelden bluntness? A little less so. She raises an eyebrow at his wording before primly replying, "I do it because someone must. It is better to know the enemy instead of standing here scratching our heads, wondering at what they might be capable of doing next, is it not?"

Cullen can't help it. Blunt is the way he's built. There's not a pretentious or conniving bone in his body. Quite a few people would see that as a weakness. Maybe it is, in their current situation, but he wouldn't change it. Giving up who you are for a cause, no matter what the cause, is a slippery slope. He's seen people unable to get it back, in the end. That scares him far more than the thought of dying.

"I recognize its usefulness. That doesn't make it any less unsettling. I don't imagine it makes it any easier for you, either."

"It is a challenge, yes, but I have never been one to abandon things simply because they are hard." It makes it all the more rewarding when she succeeds. Of course, it also makes it all the more devastating when she fails, because she can't really process that in a healthy way. The Fade showed her what a grave marker for her would say, and it was: Failed everyone. Christine can't deal with failure. And so she has to understand red lyrium. She has to contribute to putting a dent in the Red Templars' power.

"But if the thought of it unsettles you so, perhaps a change of topic would be for the best."

"Perhaps so." If she hears a little gratitude in his voice, just let it lie. He deals with plenty of horrors in his life and in his sleep, he doesn't need them in his hypotheticals. "You were headed somewhere when we ran into each other?" Well, she ran into him, but he's being polite. "Would you like company?" He's got enough time to walk her wherever she's going.

"Merely returning to my duties down at the healing tents." She's been gone long enough. "I have no wish to take you from anything, but if you are free, that would be all right."

"As free as I ever am," he says, stepping sideways so that he can start for the stairs without turning his back on her. "The walk may help me clear my head. If anything is in short supply these days, it's that."

"Oh? The fresh air will do you good, I should think. When one stays inside with only the light of candles or a small window, a mind can feel as stuffy as the space itself." She moves in step beside him, walking with purpose instead of strolling.

"Of course, it can help to speak to others of your issues to clear your head as well." Christine is just full of advice today. Look at how helpful she's being.

"You've been talking to my sister, haven't you?" It sounds almost word for word like some of what Mia lectures him on. He knows it comes from a place of love. He's given up on the hope of ever being anything but her baby brother in her eyes. "I'm afraid the issues are... complicated, and not something I feel comfortable discussing. Though the air seems to be helping. As does the sunshine."

"No, indeed," she says, lips twitching with a smile. "But she sounds like a woman with sense." People like Mia and herself need to remind people like the Commander to take care of themselves.

"If only fresh air and sunshine could cure all ills. We would all be well off then, would we not?"

"She is a woman in desperate need of a large group of people to care for." Having all of her mothering attention focused on him is draining for the both of them. "And I would braid flowers in my hair and frolic in meadows if I thought it would make a lick of difference. I'm looking forward to living in a world that has no need of my skills." It's a pipe dream, but still.

"And here I thought that is what you Fereldans accuse my people of doing," she replies, rather amused by the mental image. "Careful; I am sure there are people here who would be more than happy to drag you out to a meadow and assault your hair with flowers."

Now they've reached the bottom of the battlements and turn towards the lower courtyard.

"What would you do, if we lived in such a world?" She gives him a quick glance. What would the former Templar do with himself?

"I didn't say I'd enjoy it. The point is that I would happily debase myself if it could do some good."

What he would actually do, though? With his real life in a real situation where he had a real shot at happiness? That's something he tries not to think too much about. That doesn't mean he succeeds. So he tries to simply not spend too much time dwelling on it. "I think... I would like to farm. I'd like to create something." Instead of tearing things apart. Nurture life, not cut it down. He's fantastic with a sword, but that takes quite a toll on a person.

Now he really needs to be careful who overhears him say that. People would have a field day and truss him up like a holiday roast for the good of the Inquisition.

His answer is unexpected and it shows across her face. Granted, she is used to the Templars of her Circle, who said they were doing the Maker's work and protecting the mages against the masses. Some might have believed it, and so she assumes any former Templar who never became drunk off the power they held would want to still protect somehow. To create something? It's an interesting response, and gives her a little bit of insight into the Commander.

"A worthy profession," she admits. "Though if you ever find yourself free and want to create something, I can certainly put you to work grinding herbs for potions." Her teasing smile is small, a little uncertain, but it's out there all the same.

"I thank you for walking me down, Commander."

"And I thank you for the distraction. It was a welcome one. As was the walk." He's a little reluctant to give up either, but he has work to do, and so does she. The world doesn't stop just because they're feeling overwhelmed. If only.

Still, he feels a little better prepared to handle that onslaught now. Maybe Mia is on to something with this pushing him to take fresh air. She's rarely wrong. He really needs to learn. "We'll have to do it again soon." Hopefully with cheerier topics of conversation. "If you need anything--" Well, he can't promise that he'll be able to provide it, but he can promise he'll try.

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aceso - 2016-10-12 04:57 (UTC) - Expand

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