[ OPEN ] We shift and turn and swear and yearn

[fleurdesel]

WHO: Adelaide & you
WHAT: Catch All for the month
WHEN: June/Justinian
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Wine, swearing, PUPPIES, allusions to demonic violence. Prose or Brackets are fine, roll with what you like most. If you want a specific prompt hit me up on plurk @ here!

[ Courtyard -> Stables ]

When her sister wrote 'their arrival is imminent' Adelaide had not quite considered how imminent Juliette meant. Perhaps she might have been better prepared for signing off with the courier when they herd the rather rambunctious litter of several month old mabari pups to one of the few empty stalls in the barn. Playful things that they are- Dennet is a horse master not a hound master and it will be some time before the appropriate point of authority finds their way down to check on the five puppies ready for imprinting or...whatever it is these dogs do- but they will need minding until they are handed off and as she'd had the fortune to sign for them- Adelaide finds herself sitting in the barn, trying to keep the dogs from gnawing on one another, on her, or on anything valuable. Moments like this are a thorough reminder as to why she is a cat person.


[ Library ]

She can be found, as ever, at her table tucked into one of the unoccupied nooks of the library- a cold cup of tea at her elbow, a sheaf of notes she writes and reorganizes- a quill on occasion hovering over a sheet of blank paper and mimicking her notes stroke for stroke so she might produce them in duplicate. So long as she remembers exactly how she's laid out the paper, it works well enough. For questions, comments, concerns, condemnations or complications that have arisen during research she has made herself thoroughly available.


[ Return of the Attache ]

"No." That is all she has to say. No. She won't bother to stop or listen, she won't bother to mind him in the slightest- that same family attache doggedly tails Adelaide about the hold, hovering just behind with a leatherbound sheaf of papers in his hand while he awaits for some sign that she'll take them or at least listen. He spends the bulk of his time holding the odd extra book or pen or, in a singularly distressing moment, a pad of gauze against a seeping wound as she mends a patient in the healing tents. He's a step down from a personal valet- he is not meant to be dealing with literal bloody commoners and yet- this is his life. Someone please help him convince Adelaide to at least take the papers and look at them.


AFTER JUSTINIAN 19th

[ Stairs ]

After the final ritual is all said, done, and finished Adelaide finds she has a wealth of extra time due to no longer needing to spend several hours picking apart what went wrong with the last and what could go wrong with the next- and at least a few hours extra that she'd otherwise spend training with Martel in the evenings due to the incontinence that is her leg. Magic, even hers, can only do so much and the nasty break in that last fight leaves her less walking with the calm poise she's known for and more hobbling from place to place, staff less an afterthought and more a requirement for keeping her weight off her leg. At the moment she's glowering at the stones underfoot as she takes one slow, shuffling step up the stairs at a time. Her research is in the library- and eventually she would make her way there. Just- give her some time.


[ Healing Tents ]

Here, at least, there are fewer stairs. Adelaide splits her time between minding patients and beginning new notations on old research she'd set aside- tending to those she could while moving as little as possible for the first few days. Her humor is...subdued, somewhat, but that is easily explained by the weight of her work of the past months finally catching up now that she is forced to spend less time on her feet. Now and then she might be caught dozing, chin tipped to her chest, fingers still holding the page of her book in place.

Comments

SINA AND HER SHARD

[fleurdesel]

"Are you certain you wish to do this?" Any experimentation with the shards is risky, that goes without saying. But Sina's in particular...it is concerning. The last Adelaide had seen it react with anything the girl had very nearly perished. She had, in fact, and that is- something she would rather avoid seeing a second time. "We can work on the theory a bit longer if you'd prefer."

[eolasemah]

Sina smiles, but there is a hardness in her eyes, a weariness about her that is uncharacteristic of a twenty-year-old. "Adelaide, it has to come out," she says levelly, "it's either more of this, or I go find a pickaxe." She's mostly joking, but it would be a lie to say the thought has never tempted her.

"You brought me back." Her face softens; she doesn't know how she knows, but she does. "Solas doesn't have an answer. But you're a mage, and I'm a mage, and..." Her smile becomes strained. "...something has to work."

MARTEL AND HIS PAPERWORK

[fleurdesel]

Eventually someone manages to get Adelaide to look at the sheaf of papers. Eventually she stops laughing afterward. Eventually she drags both the very fine legal documents and attache both to Martel for a proper signing and customary drinking of apple brandy. "It seems my nagging has come through, Telquet."

With a flourish she offers the pages, awaiting his signature and the Attache's seal. "You are to be a LeBlanc in truth after all."

[apostasia]

Eyebrows high in his hairline, processing that explanation for the papers in front of him still requires actually reading them before it seems anything but nonsensical. It remains, upon consideration, somewhat surreal; his gaze lifts from document to Adelaide to - attache, where it settles, contemplative. He has no intention of doing other than signing, but it is -

It is a great deal to be offered. And it isn't that he hadn't taken her seriously, that he hadn't imagined she would try to keep her word, it's only a surprise that anyone else had, that her efforts had borne fruit, that here is this gentleman he recalls quite vividly from the last familial outreach in Skyhold and here is a piece of paper before him that will secure him safely to something more permanent than an organisation that is built in the hopes of one day rendering itself unnecessary.

A life beyond what he carves out with a sword. A home to go to, when this is all over. A name.

He tilts the pen in his fingers.

"How many sisters is this?"

ANDERS AND HIS PROBLEM

[fleurdesel]

"You realize, given our track record, this will likely kill you." It is late, she is weary, and she's tipped the ratio of tea to brandy more heavily in favor of brandy the longer they've sat to look over the notes for this final thing. This last attempt before...what? She gave Nate leave to kill justice? Before she took Asher's advice and took a knife to Anders in his sleep? Adelaide sighs and sips deeply, topping her cup with tea. Then brandy. Then a touch more tea to feel a little less like a lush. "Or me. I have ten sovereigns on this killing me."

[justice_is_blond]

He takes a breath and stirs his tea.

"It's a thought that's been heavily on my mind since the last. Not your death. My own. I don't..." Another breath, and he sips his tea slowly. This isn't something he's talked about with anyone else despite how often it's come to mind.

"The pain in my head from the last, the disorientation... if it does not work, I will probably die. And then you're all left with Justice in my corpse, at which point Nate's in far more danger than you if that's any consolation." He doesn't expect it to be. "I've tried starting notes for recommendations for that situation four times now; for some reason my hand doesn't want to write."

That's the biggest reason right there he's still going forward despite how it might turn out. The struggle for his body can only get worse. They're already clashing over extremist measures and mages again, over how Anders has now worked with Merrill in Weisshaupt, how he's offering tentative trust to a few Templars. It would be so easy to give in to black and white views and measures again and that terrifies him despite how he's keeping his tone easy and level.

"I've at least managed to write a few letters. A few of them have the 'civilly yours' salutation, because I can, on occasion, be uncivil." He needs the jokes as much as he needs the brandy in his tea.

DORIAN AND HIS WINE

[fleurdesel]

It isn't the outcome she'd expected- oh someone was going to die in that mess of a ritual, it was too complicated for everyone to walk away unscathed and considering the established pattern? More than one of them should be dead. But no. Justice is gone, Anders is free, several people were terribly injured and...knowing that this thing could work does not bring as much comfort as it ought. There is no way to test it a second time as they are fresh out of abominations. The usual thrill of being right, of pulling off the theoretically impossible is absent. Hobbling is entirely inelegant but it does not seem terribly wise to drink alone and Dorian is not one to make house calls. Thus she stirs herself to shuffle her way to his rooms, knocking and waiting with a bottle of very fine Orlesian wine tucked into her elbow. If she is to drink, she will drink well.

STABLES

[lionheartedman]

Cullen hears that Adelaide has received a large shipment from home. Not through normal channels, but through the happy coincidence of Jim walking past the gates during the delivery process on his way to see Cullen. He tosses it out as an off-hand comment, and Cullen waits for her arrival. Except she does not come. Which is strange. Even when her family's contributions do not include anything specifically for him, she tells him what supplies have been allocated and where. She knows he likes to know.

Rather than sit and wonder, when the thoughts in his mind begin to muddle and he knows he will be useless without a break to clear his head, he leaves his office and goes looking for her. It doesn't take him long to be directed to the stables, and the idea that it might be new tack for the mounts, which would be quite a welcome addition to the Inquisition's supplies, is chased away by the sound of gentle snuffling yips coming from a generous bed of straw in a seemingly empty stall. "Are those--?"

STABLES

[fleurdesel]

It dimly occurs that she ought to have sent word shortly after signing- it is customary to keep Cullen informed; there are not Senior Enchanters here to which she reports such things and it's a habit to tell someone of what has been brought in. That most of it is for the Inquisition's direct use and relevant to Cullen works out neatly, even if half of it is some manner of bribe for influence or information or- whatever it is her mother is after. It matters little.

What matters is she hadn't kept to the routine and feels slightly guilty for dragging Cullen from his tower- up until he grounds the corner. Fereldans and their dogs. "The litter I mentioned some months ago. They have been sent as a token of good will and proof of the Lowell's bloodlines."

James and his Mabari

[judgemewhole]

The messenger had coming running up to his make-shift desk out in the courtyard, where James was frowning at a pile of objects in front of him, and some crumpled and blood-stained reports. The frown disappeared however, when the messenger informed him that yes, the latest supply run had brought in a set of mabari puppies and yes, Lady LeBlanc had signed for them.

To say that James was swift about getting all of his things put away was ... something of an understatement.

He made his way towards the stable, quick as you please, green eyes bright with hope. He wasn't sure if one of the puppies would even imprint with him, but Adelaide had promised him a try ...

She might take that back, as he choked on a laugh at the sight of her, surrounded by the little bundles of fur.

[fleurdesel]

"Not a word, James." She was attempting to keep them in line, not...playing. Trying to keep them from tugging her down to their level and somewhat failing as she'd let herself be pulled from the chair into the hay proper, one rolling around on her lap, another gnawing on the hem of her skirts. Cats were much less...messy. And more self sufficient. "Not. One. Word."

Library - before the 19th

[sunshinethroughgrey]

And of course, almost every single day, the cold cup of tea was put aside for a hot one, and a plate of something warm and baked would be put at Adelaide's side as Bethany entered and dropped into a comfortable seat next to her, putting down her own cup of tea. Then the tray was put aside for her stack of spirit magic books.

A quiet, and warm, "Good morning Adelaide," usually followed, and then Bethany waited for the other woman to notice she was there. Sometimes it took a minute or two - sometimes she would be deep in her own notes and finished with her own baked goods before she would be startled by Adelaide finally speaking to her.

Really just depended on the day.

Library - before the 19th

[fleurdesel]

The first few times Adelaide might have startled at the motion, might have questioned. But now it was so much a part of her routine she thought nothing of it, offering only a murmured "Good Morning, Bethany." In reply.

Given another ten to fifteen minutes, depending on how long it took her to rouse herself from her notes, Adelaide would actually look up and register that, yes, Bethany was there and, yes, there was fresh tea. "What are we studying today?"

Return of the Attache (w/puppies, later?)

[gatheringstorm]

Maybe someone will convince Adelaide to take those papers and give the poor man a break, but it won't be Korrin. Annoyed at her friend having this nonsense thrown in her face once again, especially when she wanted to kidnap her for a much-needed break, the Vashoth woman ignores personal space bubbles and just looms in front of the attache, giving him the stink-eye. It may not be his fault that he's sent back here, but she seriously doesn't care. Annoy Adelaide, annoy her. And annoying her is never wise.

Return of the Attache (w/puppies, later!!!)

[fleurdesel]

Whatever reason he'd been giving this time slowly sputters to a halt, the man's voice completely stolen. Adelaide peers up to see what has silenced him this time- and a smile blooms. Small and weary, but sincere enough. "Rinot."

There's a flick of the man's eyes between her and Korrin at so familiar an address. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

LEXA AND HER INTERVIEW

[fleurdesel]

She has not seen many wandering about Skyhold- but since her conversation with Asher the thought lingers. Nags at the back of her mind- the talk with Pel not long after certainly didn't help. She cannot unlearn that which she has been taught, cannot change her interpretation- but if she knows more she can, perhaps, ease some of the damage done should this continue to go wrong.

And knowing their current results as they are? Something will go very wrong.

It isn't the most tactful approach- Adelaide slipping from her tent and calling out as soon as she sees the young woman- "Might I borrow a moment of your time?"

A beat.

"I will provide a meal if you have not yet eaten." People tend to humor questions a bit better if they are being fed for free, she's noticed.

[heda]

Lexa does not immediately register that Adelaide means her; people typically don't here in Skyhold, and everywhere else such a request would be prefaced with her title and probably contain at least a bit more polite deference. The Avvar aren't flowery courtly speakers, but they show respect for their leaders the same as anyone else, in their way.

Being unknown here is strange, and Lexa hasn't decided what she makes of it yet. She's wary, regardless, and it's with that wariness that she considers Adelaide and her request and her offer. She approaches without doing anything else to indicate agreement.

"What do you need?"

BRUCE AND TRUST ISSUES

[amygdalae]

[It's easy enough to avoid Adelaide for the most part after the whole Fade thing - Adelaide is busy with treating people and so is Bruce. Even after returning from the Approach the work is never done - not that it ever will be, not really. And its not going to get any easier either, if the rumors don't cease anytime soon.

He can feel the weight of the stares from other people as he passes by, hears the whispers they think that he can't hear. It's not that he can't deal with them - he'll do his job regardless of the situation - but its undeniable that things have changed, in the way some of his usual patients now no longer come to him, and others regard him with wary expressions and distrustful eyes. All because he 'could' be a mage, at least to most of them.

This was one of the many reasons why he hated what he was.

After another day of dealing with this Bruce retreats into the relative sanctuary of his own tent, feeling more exhausted than he had ever been. It had just been... harder, than usual, to work with everything that was going on.]

BRUCE AND TRUST ISSUES

[fleurdesel]

[ Three days to come to terms with Martel. Months and she has yet to come to terms with Detlef- but Bruce. Bruce she has known the longest. Bruce she had trusted with the most- with her life, with her students, with her fears. How often did he sit and smile and nod knowingly along as though he couldn't possibly understand and knew all the same? How long would he continue to hide this had she not needed saving in the Fade?

Had he chosen his secret to be more valuable, would he have let her take the blow? How many more had not been worth the risk to him? How many were injured for the sake of his secret?

She could not think of him or this lie without being blindingly furious for some time- but she's managed to calm, somewhat. To think rationally. To try to be understanding as to why Bruce might hide such a thing- it is hard to be a mage in Thedas. It is dangerous. She cannot begrudge him this when she did not blink at Kalli hiding her powers.

And yet it is more than that. More than enough for her to take a quiet moment to slip into his tent after him, voice flat and devoid of even the chill of her anger. ]

You owe me an explanation.

At the Stairs

[fledglingenchanter]

Sadira was learning her way around Skyhold now, but occasionally she still took an odd turn or ended up somewhere other than she expected. It wasn't that the castle was all that hard to figure out, just that sometimes there were too many people in the way or something going on, and she happened to detour.

She hadn't quite planned on going to the library, but that is where her feet had taken her. Perhaps her unconscious mind sensed that she needed some of the peace and quiet that only books could offer here. As she reached the stairs, she saw Adelaide making her slow ascent.

"Please allow me to help you? the stairs can be too unforgiving at times."

At the Stairs

[fleurdesel]

She ought to be able to press close enough to one of the walls so whoever it is attempting to walk by can do so unimpeded by her limping or her muttered swearing. That they would stop and offer aide? It was not so strange a thing considering the temperament of those most active in the Inquisition, but it is curious enough to give Adelaide pause.

"...If it would not be too much trouble." If there is one thing she could do without, it was the limping. The stiffness to her leg, the odd way her weight shifted from foot to staff as she leaned and back again. "I would be most grateful."

Attache-ish

[motherfucking_ghost]

Church has two mugs of ale with him that he's trying not to spill everywhere. Seems like Skyhold, despite how fucking massive it is, is feeling smaller all the time with all the people. He's on his way to the healing tents when he catches sight of her with Annoying Numb-Nut in tow and grins his big shiteating grin.

"Adirondack!" he calls, arms open, just this close to sloshing it over the snobby looking Alfred and his precious papers. "You need a drink. I need a drink. We're drinking." He gives Jeeves a glance after a couple moments. "I don't have any for you." That is not an apologetic voice.

Attache-ish

[fleurdesel]

"Beg pardon?" That's new even for Church, but the ale, the grin, and the way he so casually dismisses the already aggrieved attache more than makes up for her momentary confusion. "I suppose we are, in fact, drinking. What's the occasion?"

brb puppies

[tactical_alert]

The growing bundles of energy and fur are certain to attract attention from plenty of people and certainly many animals. Like other dogs, for instance. Milday is no mabari, could never hope to become so meaty and broad, no, to be fair, as intelligent or deathly loyal. But she is a dog, and there are puppies, and she is going to investigate the shit out of that.

Oh, and also Adelaide, because Milday loves people she isn't ordered to attack, but there is an apricot colored fuzz cautiously approaching, giving each pup a sniff, and when one yips and takes a stance to play, so does she, her whole body becoming a silly energetic noodle of joy.

Malcolm shakes his head when he, eventually, enters the barn, but doesn't stop the play from happening. "She must have smelled them in the air," he says, apologetically. Then he glances between Adelaide and the clearly mabari pups, then back to her, eyebrows raised, bemused, amused. "I'm sorry, did you suddenly just turn a little bit more Fereldan?"

PUPPINS

[fleurdesel]

Adelaide minds the poodle warily for a moment- hunting dogs imported from the Anderfels, or so she'd heard- but this particular one seems less interested in trouble and hunting and far more in play. For all due seriousness to drop the instant one puppy takes the typical 'yes play race now' posture and return it in kind?

It twists a faint laugh out of her, even as she sits, trapped by a dozing mabari in her lap. "I am minding them until Dennet can find someone better qualified to match them."

Which should have happened an hour ago, but. "They are from my sister's Kennel. A sign of goodwill and support from her family to the Inquisition."

library;

[foxsays]

Whilst Leliana hasn't given her an exact direction in which to begin beyond the suggestion to look into the stories of Rivain, where magic and the attitudes to the Chantry are certainly very different, Araceli does have good reasons to seek out members of the mage council. Korrin has never been backward in coming forward in the time Araceli has known her, and she can hardly imagine her being too different within the council, even with the few times Araceli has offered some advice.

Adelaide she knows in passing; a friendly face, of noble birth, talented, a healer but not someone she would count herself knowing, and so she seeks her out. As her father always liked to say (and as Araceli says so many times herself now, a habit she finds very hard to break when she misses him), you play the hand you're dealt. Of course that doesn't stop you from finding out as much as you can about the hands your opponents hold or improving your own.

"Madame LeBlanc," she greets when she finds her in the library. "If I'm interrupting I can come back later."

library;

[fleurdesel]

Adelaide looks up from her latest round of notes, managing a thin smile for Araceli. Dear to Korrin, refreshingly enthusiastic about magic, kind- she cannot say she knows the girl well but what she knows of her? She's found agreeable. "I've a moment to spare, certainly. Please, sit."

She gestures to...a chair covered in books. With a faint sigh she moves them to the table instead, freeing it for Araceli's use. "Please pardon the mess- without a proper office I have had to make do."

Attache

[dreadinquisitor]

Perhaps Adelaide hadn't actually meant it. Maybe it was just a friendly joke in the midst of a terrible situation; something to make them both feel better as they stared horrors worse than death in the face.

But Maxwell hoped she had.

Otherwise he'd look quite silly, showing up as he did with a bundle of cheese and some bread, standing there expectantly as he glanced between her and the very formal - and exasperated - looking Orlesian.

"Am I interrupting?" Maxwell asked brightly.

Attache

[fleurdesel]

"Yes." Adelaide cut in immediately. "And I am grateful for it. Please, sit. I think I have that bottle of wine somewhere-"

For a moment the attache looked almost...hopeful? A solid match, some sign of favor from one family to another, before Adelaide gave him a nudge to move to the side.

"As you can see, they are at it again. I do not know for what but I've no intention of humoring them a second time- ah, here it is. A fine year as well." For if one was to sip and bitch, one should sip and bitch with excellent wine.

Healing Tents; ten minutes late with Starbucks.

[eviscerates]

While she's been gone there have been stashes of rare herbs arriving when scouts and requisition officers return from anywhere between the Emprise and Skyhold. Ruby's been hard at work, apparently, and when she finally arrives back in Skyhold its in much better condition than last time. Her wardrobe, well. There's a pair.of aviators she found on her way back up to Skyhold, a little scratched though she wiped the dust off. They push back her hair. Her leather breeches have been massacred - damaged in the line of duty, and then nobly sacrificed so that instead of being awkwardly half-legged on one side they're now cut and rolled up to her thigh, a relief for the heat of hiking up to Skyhold. Combined with her loose white shirt and the somewhat undone leather bodice, she's like some sort of Ren Fair rockstar, but she feels entirely as ease with it. It's nice to not to forget Storybrooke completely.

"So, Captain, you'll be pleased to know I saved the best parts of my delivery to be presented personally," she starts, as she wanders into the tent, buttercups and daisies and forget-me-nots blooming in her wake, until she sees how Adelaide is holding herself.

"What-- the Hell?"

Easygoing to concerned in 0.4.

Healing Tents; ten minutes late with Starbucks.

[fleurdesel]

"Mmn?" Adelaide starts awake, blinking blearily at the tent's entrance. Far from being an able bodied healer- a great majority of her patients have been tended to by Roul or Sam or any other mage with some capacity for healing rather than herself as of late. The odd consultation for potions or ointments or whatnot aside- she has been made to rest. It is wearying, the hovering, but she has needed this if the way she is slow to snap to awareness is anything to go by. Hair bound in a loose braid, skin under her eyes smudged from irregular sleep, broken leg held stiffly of to one side and propped up on a small stool to ease the ache as she sits-

It is not the prettiest sight, she realizes. "Red?"

[justice_is_blond]

It's not just that Adelaide looks like she could use sleep. It's Remi too, snoozing on her chest and making Anders entirely uncertain about how to help here. Then again, it's not like she'd want a crick in her back. First, though, he moves her cup out of any danger that might come from her suddenly waking up.

"Adelaide." His voice is gentle and quiet, and he has a hand out for Remi if she starts... but it might be slightly too far to help. He's erring on the side of caution right now. "Can I get you to lay down? Or at least get you to doze off in a slightly less uncomfortable position? There are so many better ones."

[fleurdesel]

She does not start so much as drift, blinking slowly while Remi's purring intensifies in an effort to keep her still. The peculiar manner in which he's started to perch is cause for amusement when she's aware, but lately he's been climbing up only after she's drifted off and thus the only warning she has is this low rumbling over her heart. "I'm fine."

She mumbles, the usual question answered first as she reaches up to stroke Remi's ears. "Just- a few more letters that need writing."