faderift | [OPEN] I live my life in shackles but I'm borderline free

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[OPEN] I live my life in shackles but I'm borderline free

WHO: Fenris and Anyone
WHAT: A starter open log to get stuff going with folks? Bear with me, please!
WHEN: Anytime this month / Justinian
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Feel free to jump in and start some stuff with me? I’m new and I have no idea what’s going on >>;;;
Also: All CR with Fenris is fresh unless you’ve spoken to me (which you can still go do) here. ty!

BATTLEMENTS
Nighttime; late. It’s dark, a few scattered torchlights flicker in the distance, lanterns shine in windows below, but mostly there are stars. Multitudes of them dusting the wide sky. Very few people are up and about at this hour at all, a guardsman making rounds; it isn’t hard to overlook the shadow of an elf stretched out on the parapet, arms folded behind his head, a pair of eyes to catch glinting in the moonlight. Fervanis is rising and Fenris maps its branches, lost enough in thought that approaching footsteps aren’t likely to be heard until they’re very close upon him.

HERALD’S REST (first floor)
Mid-afternoon is a good time to occupy the tavern if one wants to drink but also wants to avoid the boisterous throng of the evening time congregation. Fenris can be found sitting alone at a corner table, a flagon of cheap swill barely touched and getting warm as it sweats onto the table. He has a map and some writing implements out and is working away in his shaky handwriting, the marks he’s making not actual legible language but an odd system of shorthand symbols that only make sense to him. He’s been here a while by the looks of it, blinking with eyestrain and possibly not opposed to a break and a fresh beverage.

VAULT LIBRARY
Fernis’ favorite place he’d found in Skyhold. He’s been spending a lot of time down here. Dank, mouldering, isolated, and ‘homey’, if you asked him. Could use a few corpses, but he took what he could get. Today he’s sitting in the floor on the dusty rug, mindless of the cobwebs, armor shed and scattered around him while he cleans it meticulously, wiping the dried brown blood out of the crevices and buffing the metal with oil until it reflects the eerie light of the room. He looks different without his spiky armor but no less recognizable, lyrium tattoos exposed and hoary bangs falling into his face as he works.

other
[Something random? Feel free to start a thread or PM/Plurk me for something custom, okies? <3]

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Even though being in Skyhold was the most secure Sadira had felt in months, it didn't stop the restless, sleepless nights, nor the bad dreams from happening. It was because of a bad dream that she was even up and about, meandering the battlements as she tried to untangle the subconscious fears from her waking mind. While she had no particular interest in the stars, they at least were constant, offering some visual assurances that not everything was completely broken.

Out of habit, she tried not to attract attention to herself, doing her best to avoid the guards and keep to the shadows. Not because she was criminally inclined as anyone who saw her would have immediately noted she was no clandestine spy, but because she didn't want to bother anyone else with her restlessness. In fact her desire to avoid the guards was what made her step close to the parapet with the intention of just hunkering down. She absolutely had no idea someone was near since her attention was first to her tangled thoughts and secondly to the sounds of the armored tromp of the guards.

Stirred from his unfocused cerebration by the swish of startlingly nearby fabric and the soft crunch of shoes stone, Fenris had a full moment of advantage to observe the other wanderer unawares. His first instinct was to tense in preparation for fight, but being an elf came with the built-in perk of excellent night-vision and he quickly assessed her as a non-threat despite that she seemed to purposefully be sticking to caliginosities, another restless soul out for the night air and perhaps, as she was also looking up, the stars.

"Fervanis, the oak," Fenris says, tilting his head to the side purposefully so that the movement will make him more than a disembodied voice. He turns his attention back to the sky then and points, in case she is unfamiliar with astronomy. He finds that many outside of Tevinter don't actually know the names of the constellations. "And Judex, the Sword of Mercy, visible only for a few more days." He smiles at that, a subtle twist of wry lips in the dark.

The sudden intrusion of his voice made her nearly jump out of her skin. A quick hand flew to her mouth, clamping down on the startled shriek that almost escaped.

"Makers breath!" she finally uttered once she'd regained a small modicum of self-control. "I didn't know..." In her frazzled state, it was unclear if she was talking about the stars or his presence out here on the parapet. Although the stars were admittedly the last thing on her mind just then, her gaze nevertheless did follow his gesture upwards as she cocked her head.

"Apologies, startling you was not my intention." He sounds a little amused regardless, but is glad at least she didn't scream and summon the guard unnecessarily, brining the inconvenience of explaining their presences, however innocuous. Upon second inspection Fenris can see that she's a little bit frazzled, jumpy with tired eyes. The telltale signs of nightmares, he concludes without having to stretch.

Long familiar with night terrors and tormented dreams himself, Fenris is understanding. He's inappreciative of prying on the whole though, and so instead goes on, lowering his arm to pillow his head again. "There's some debate as to whether the Neromenians or the Elvhenan are responsible for the origin of 'the Oak'. Is it representative of of the idea that all things possess souls, even rocks and trees, or does it depict the Elven goddess of the Hunt? I feel that I should know her name to say it, but I don't. A daughter of Mythal, I think."

She pulled her gaze away from the night sky to look at his shadowy form, trying to make more of him out in the pervading gloom. Her vision was not nearly as well suited as his, so she mostly saw a glint of pale hair, the gleam of his eyes and more or less a lump she assumed was his body. It was at least enough to go on.

From listening to his speech, she could tell that he wasn't from Ferelden or Orlais and so assumed then that he must be a kindred spirit in the form of a Marcher, or at least someone who hailed from north of the Waking Sea. It gave her some small comfort to think that, allowing her to relax further.

"You are quite knowledgeable on the stars. You certainly know more than I do about the constellations and the myths behind them." Her wits were finally returning now, despite the late hour. The idea of engaging someone in an intellectual discussion seemed to add some vigor to her as she looked up again towards the sky. "I think everything has a soul in some way or another. If not a tree itself, but then perhaps the forest it is part of."

"I'm no expert, I just enjoy them enough to have paid attention." Fenris pushed himself up to lean on one elbow, a gauntlet scraping lightly as he shifts. Looking over at her she's returned her gaze upward and Fenris followed it, tipping his head back. "That isn't in the Canticles," he dares, more conjecture, but he recognizes her accent in turn- he's spent enough time in and around the Free Marches- and it's easy to chance the assumption that she is Andrastian. "Not that it goes against Andraste's teachings of course, it's just not a common sentiment."

Interesting. He sits up more fully and drops a leg to the inside of the wall, pulling the other up so that his knee is tucked to his chest. "So what defines a soul, do you think? And why does a forest have one but not necessarily a tree?" It's a pretty heavy question to pose in middle of the night to someone he's yet to even learn a name, but he's spent long enough wrapped in his own sinuous thoughts tonight that theoretical theology with a stranger is actually a nice escape.

"Doghren, please-" But no, whatever it is that Zevran means to plead of the small, strange beast that he finds himself minding is ignored entirely, the furry little mongrel happily tripping down the stairs while dragging something along with her. She's a small puppy, not the brightest, not the prettiest, in fact Zevran has likened her to Oghren on more than one occasion, hence the name, but she is quick when she wants to.

And right now dragging a small stuffed cow around to hide behind Fenris? She wants to.

Zevran stumbles at the bottom of the stairs, squinting in the darkness, the dim light doing him no favors. Things he misses about having two working eyes rather than one clear and one scarred to a milky white; the nightvision. Seeing Fenris down here causes him to start, then sigh. Well. He was going to put two and two together eventually. "Tell me you saw a hideous little beast dragging a stuffed animal. Please. If she's gotten to the dungeons or the Undercroft I will never find her."

Tiny nails clicking into the room, Fenris looks up with some surprise to see the approaching interloper is a very small mabari headed towards him dragging a... well he has no idea what it has in tow but it's about as big as the creature itself and being carried rather viciously by the throat. The little beast is headed straight towards him though, and Fenris scrabbles to pick up the bowl of oil before it's knocked over when the animal barrels straight through his armor towards his lap, tail wagging excitedly. "I think that you may have taken a wrong turn," he informs the dog seriously, getting only a hopping charge at his crossed legs in response. A sigh.

A hurried clamor down the stairs and the dog bolts around back of him, taking its toy along and disappearing somewhere under the desk. Still holding the bowl, Fenris uses one leg to sweep gauntlets and pauldrons to the side in case it returns. It's Zevran who's head pops around the corner, followed by the rest of him and Fenris can't say he's really all that surprised.

"Because an infant wasn't enough noise to keep you up at night?" The arch of a thick eyebrow. He turns around and peeks under the desk at the dog. "'She', is it?" He looked back at Zevran, a hind of playful conspiracy in his smirk. "And what are you paying for information regarding the whereabouts of your charge?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about." As though Fenris could not hear Lucci's wailing down the hall. As though his child is a complete secret and- Zevran slumps in the doorframe, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The dog came before the infant, and yet she is infinitely more troublesome."

That cow is Lucci's favorite toy and he shall be inconsolable until it is returned. Which was not so great a problem until the dog slipped from the room and led Zevran on this merry chase.

"Doghren. Alistair's, honestly, but she is too small to survive in the Wardens' camp where they might mistake her for a meal or darkspwan, and thus like many of his messes, she is left to me to mind." Such is his life, minding other people's messes. Still. She is in this room and he will find her- but the sooner he is able to do so? The sooner he can help Lucci sleep, the sooner he himself might find rest. "A bottle of wine, a few sketches, a bottle of Antivan Brandy- name your price, my friend."

Rolling his eyes that Zevran is even going to attempt this charade when yes, Fenris was right down the hall, he put the bowl down again and shook his head incredulously. "Is it safe to keep a dog and a baby in close quarters?" This wasn't a suggestion that it wasn't, Fenris honestly did not know. 'Troublesome' seemed something of an understatement as well, but at least that was better, giving up and admitting the obvious truth.

"I like dogs," he says flatly like it's some sordid admission and taps his fingers on the ground causing the puppy to toddle out from behind the desk to sniff at them. He gives her a tentative scritch on her velvet-soft ears and she drops her toy in favor of licking his fingertips. He gives Zevran another look, this one practiced to be withering. "And I was joking, though I wouldn't say no to any of those things if you're handing them out." Another small twitch of a smirk.

"I do hope you know what you're doing," he adds, and picks up the stuffed toy absently, turning it over and discovering that it is in fact, a cow. It earns him a growl that he's sure is supposed to intimidate him into returning it, so he does just that.

Henry had been reading upstairs most of the time, pulling books off the shelves like no one's business. But, when he heard of a library downstairs that not many people tended to use? Well, more books for him, isn't it?

He was already at the door, not bothering to knock having assumed it to be empty he pushes open the door to find an elf. A grown elf man sitting on the floor polishing his armor. Henry stands there for a few moments, looking somewhat surprised and taking note of the elf. What stood out rather quickly was the tattoos. Were they dalish? If they were they were none he had seen before.

But, he's been staring for a moment to long before he gets his bearings. An apologetic look comes to his face first and the words second. "Sorry, I didn't know there was anyone using this room. If it's all right...could...could I just grab a book in here? I'll leave you alone then. Or I can come back later, whatever works."

"I owe you a bottle or two for not screaming bloody murder back at the child." Who is not terribly quiet at night, or in the morning or...ever, honestly. Maker knows he has had moments of wanting to lie down and cry right with him over whatever strange thing in the world has caused Lucci upset-

But that is not what he is able to do. Instead he must chase troublesome dogs to the vault and endure sarcasm. "I have not been sleeping well."

He has not been sleeping, and Fenris knows just as well the why of that.

"If I am to be completely honest? I have no idea what I am doing." He leans past the doorframe and enters the room properly, sitting across from Fenris and Doghren- shadows under his eyes, hair in disarray, stains on his shirt, listing a little where he sits- he is not the picture of polished health he would normally show the world. "But I have nowhere to send him."

It's a moment before Fenris bothers to look up, the distinct sort of hesitation in the doorway not indicative of a presence requiring much urgency. He finishes what he's doing instead, the strap of his breastplate secured between his teeth and braced between his knees. When he's made the adjustment he's aiming for he sets it aside and raises his head, a little surprised to find a much shorter person than he'd expected.

"It isn't my room," he says placidly, wiping his hands on a rag. The boy- and he's definitely a boy, Fenris has little experience with young humans but doesn't estimate him much over fifteen- seems a little daunted, which might've made Fenris feel a little sorry for him were he not clearly a mage looking to study the old magic tomes. Just because he couldn't read them didn't mean he didn't recognize what they were. "You've as much right to it as I do. Please go ahead and don't mind me," he offered, waving a hand flippantly towards the shelves.

"You're not looking for anything... unsavory though, are you?" He has to ask, whether he actually wants to hear the answer to that or not.

"If you insist," Fenris says with an agreeable shrug. He chooses to omit that fact that he'd been tempted a time or two in the dead of night. By his thinking though he had Zevran to thank for his room and by extension his privacy in the first place however, so really he had no room to complain.

Narrowing his eyes in the dim light, he can see that. He'd not really looked closely before but Zevran did indeed look like shit in the sunshine, all dark-circles and disheveled hair. Fenris hummed in agreement, biting his lip.

"I can see that," Fenris says from the floor, rotating at the waist and leaning from one side to the other to stretch his shoulders. "I think there is only one clear solution and I also think that you are well aware of what it is." He pins him again with a look that is equal parts pity and chastenment. "You're in dire need of help. You can't raise a child at Skyhold anyway so why not give in and ask for help whilst you decide what you're going to do with... It? Him? You said him, right?" For some reason it had seemed easier to assign gender to the dog than the baby but Fenris corrected himself out of politeness, knowing people were sometimes quick to offend when it came to their offspring.

It was a relief to at least hear that he could have a look around. After all, Henry did come barging in when he should've knocked first. Something he'll keep in mind for next time. "Thank you, ser," he answers politely.

He makes sure to pass by the elven man without disturbing any of the remaining pieces of armor that lay about and heads to the shelf near the back. This way he wouldn't have to disturb the other much and they could continue on with what they were doing. When he pulls a tome off the shelf he begins to leaf through it, but is pulled away from the book when he hears the question.

The boy looks back over blinking, somewhat confused for a moment. "Unsavory?" He has to repeat that because the very question seems silly to him. Then again, he's a mage and people often feared mages and their power. "If you mean blood magic and demon summoning and the like than no. I'm looking up better ways to channel energy to get more effective healing and barriers," he responds again politely as before.

His comment made her frown slightly, wondering if it might have been a slight directed at her lack of knowing. His attitude didn't appear to be condescending however so she quickly chalked any misgivings up to her lack of sleep. It was a correct assumption that she was indeed one of the faithful, as it might be hard to find anyone in Skyhold who was not, short of the Dalish or the odd Avvar. And her idea might have been heretical.

"The Maker made the world did he not? And I've read that Dwarves speak of the stone as if it was alive. So why not something which provides us with so much?" She shrugged her shoulders and shifted positions slightly so that she could look at his shadowy shape now that he was no longer horizontal. Here int he dark it was easy to talk with someone not knowing who or what they were. It was almost cathartic in a way. Two strangers given the anonymity of the night to speak freely. He might be able to recognize her in the light of day, but she would not know him unless he spoke.

"As for why I think a forest as opposed to a single tree... well, a forest is full of life. You cut one tree down and the forest can still live. The loss of the tree does not hurt the forest any more than a nick from a knife does the body. Cut down enough of the trees or dam a river so it no longer flows and the forest might die. So too is it with a body and the soul of a person."

"Mia has done what she can and Pel has made an offer-" but he has not exactly taken them up to the fullest extent- not due to thinking he might manage this on his own. NO, that would be madness. But, perhaps, out of fear. He is wanted and dangerous. His son, were it to be known he has a son, would be equally known and in danger simply due to sharing his blood. If he could care less- and Maker knows he digs every day for a part of himself that might care less, he could had Lucci off to some childless family and be happier for it.

There are nights when that still seems to hold the greatest appeal.

"Are you volunteering?" He manages a thin shade of his usual humor. An echo of one of his smirks. "Him. His name is Luciano and he is not quite a year old...but he is teething. That is why he wakes in tears most nights."

It is wearying that. The screaming he cannot entirely soothe. Asking a healer to speed along the process only earned him strange looks. "Without anywhere safe to send him, I thought I might try to raise him myself until there is somewhere safe he might go. But now Alistair is aware and he will have complicated emotions should I send the boy away."

After returning from the Western Approach, Korrin's ability to sleep has been hit-or-miss. Even with Araceli's attention and care, she's not always able to sleep soundly through the night. And the nights when her kadan has that ability, Korrin's reluctant to wake her. So she'll take to strolling around for a bit until weariness claims her enough to give sleeping another shot.

On alert for anything than the source of her insomnia to occupy her mind with, Korrin smiles as she spots a familiar (at least the outline of the outfit is familiar) form up ahead. It's been a while since she's had the chance to chat with Fenris, given her stint in the Western Approach. His company is certainly welcome now, if he chooses to give it. At this time and place, it's not as easy to tell who's up for being social.

Noting his skyward stare, she glances up thoughtfully. "My favorite has always been Draconis. Shocking, I know."

"Unsavory," Fenris repeats, side-eying him meaningfully. "That's exactly what I mean. And good to hear." Still not exactly comforting, it's probably the best he can want for. He has absolutely no idea what any of the rest of that means but barriers and healing seem harmless enough. Not that he's in favor of any magic, mind you, or that he considers any of it 'harmless', but he has over the years learned to quell a little bit of his indiscriminate volatility in favor of peaceful existence.

For the most part, anyway.

He goes back to his armor, working quietly until the joints bend smoothly again, letting the boy pick over the dusty shelves.

Nodding slowly, Fenris considers this. As far as he's concerned there is no right or wrong answer and he won't judge her beliefs- he's merely curious, turning the opinion over in his mind. "'She'," he agreed, reaching for what he knows of Dwarven belief. "They don't worship Her, the Stone, but they are a part of Her and She sustains them, something like that?" He sees the woman's point even if he doesn't quite personally subscribe.

Of it being somewhat liberating to talk to a stranger under the cover of darkness though, he fully agrees. He looked over at her again and he does feel he as somewhat of an unfair advantage considering his eyesight and that he could sense from her first approach that she is a mage. It doesn't have much bearing up here right now really, but it might in the day. He isn't actually sure and doesn't care to consider it, much happier to continue a pleasant conversation which is a rarity in itself. At least for him.

"So do these souls pass through the Veil or return to the Void when the forest dies, so to speak? Or are they immortal like the Stone?" He grunted suddenly and shook his head, deciding not to try and pursue this further as he'd not intended to lead into an actual splitting of religious hairs and he doesn't know how to continue on without departing neutrality.

"Sorry, these are probably topics better left to... well, whoever, but not me. I'm just going to get dour and drive you away. Please, let's go back to the stars."

The look Fenris gives him would level mountains. "If you value your child in the least you would not ask me that." Belatedly, he notices that Zevran is joking and snorts, having to give him that one. "Ah. Teething. That sounds... unpleasant."

There is once again a puppy jumping around against his leg and Fenris grabs one side of the toy cow and wiggles it, the other end still securely gripped between jaws that are already remarkably strong for such a small animal. The dog growls again and this time it's playful, his bottom wiggling as he tries to back up and take back his toy.

Fenris shakes his head. "You do not have to make a decision now," he repeats. "Ask for help, get some rest. I'm sure you will be allowed time to choose a path for him. In the meantime though, how can you be responsible for someone else's wellbeing when you can not manage your own?" This seems like obvious advice and Fenris figures it's far easier to give it from a position so far removed from the situation, but still. How much longer could this go on anyway before the situation came to some sort of a head? It seemed best to address it now while there was some chance at steering the outcome.

"Take care of it, Zevran. Not just for the sake of either of us getting a full night's rest."

"Let us see how well you would be faring if a fling of yours dropped off an infant with no notice, mm?" Which...would not happen as Fenris was more discerning and careful in those he kept close- and not one normally to fall so easily into bed. The odds were in favor of something like this happening eventually-

Zevran simply planned on being dead before it came to pass.

How unfortunate.

"There are few I would trust to mind him, elven children are not often offered wonderful opportunities." Such is life for them and theirs. No brothel for Lucci, no slavery for him either- for now. Maker only knows what will come. He means to leave him to Leliana's care should he perish in the meantime but even that is an uncertain gamble. "He will be cared for. No matter what I choose- I can make certain of that."

The correction about the Dwarven faith-- or whatever it was, was taken with a nod of acceptance as she filed that information away. She knew her knowledge on Dwarves was limited, and clearly her shadowy companion had a greater worldly knowledge than her, so she chose to accept him at his word.

Despite being an Andrastian, she honestly didn't feel there was enough questioning of beliefs-- at least in regards other races. This was the most open she had been with anyone in regards to faith and belief. And with good reason considering the views she held about the nature of souls, as well as her feelings towards fellow mages.

That he would cut off their discussion so quickly made her peer at him all the harder, trying to discern if she had somehow stumbled upon a Templar or one of the rare chantry brothers. Thoughts of the first made her nervous, which she sought to hide. Even now, she still was having a hard time accepting that there were templars here in Skyhold. Or perhaps her views had upset him?

"If that is what you wish. I'm sorry if this talk disturbed you. Consider it nothing more than the night ramblings of a restless mind."

Seeking to do as he suggested, she scoured the heavens trying to pick out something that even remotely looked like a constellation. "So if you know the shape of the stars, do you then also know the stories behind them?"

Fenris smiles too when he hears the familiar voice. He hasn't seen Korrin in quite some time and hadn't been aware she had returned. Though their acquaintance has been somewhat brief, he appreciates her candidness and had noticed her absence which, for Fenris, is somewhat remarkable. He doesn't bother to adjust his languid mien as she approaches, just pulls his knees up in case she wishes to sit.

"And mine is Judex so, here's to being predictable creatures." He lifts an armored hand in a mock toast, the sort of gesture inherent of one who is used to having a bottle in hand. He isn't drunk tonight though- cold sober in fact, enjoying the night air and the escape from the noise in his hall that's kept him up frequently of late.

"What do you see when you look at Draconis?" he asks, "Or rather, what do you imagine? A dragon in flight? The sea serpent? Or perhaps something more particular?"

Yet another of those flat stares that wordlessly agrees with Zevran's assessment, especially in the latter. Fenris is not comfortable enough with intimacy of any sort to take up with a large number of partners. He doesn't feel any sense of superiority about this though, nor does he fault Zevran his exploits. If anything Fenris is a little jealous of those that can be so freely giving of themselves but, that isn't here nor there, and in his opinion it really could happen to anyone. Fenris is secretly very glad it isn't him and he tries not to let his expression reflect that.

"I wasn't suggesting..." He sounds alarmed. If anyone else knows full-well about those 'opportunities'... well. It's just that Skyhold isn't safe either. Corypheus could return and level the whole place as he had Haven any day plus a myriad of other dangers right down to the fact that he'd seen a mace left lying square in the middle of a hallway just this morning. "I'm sure that you will. And if there actually is any way that I can assist you in the meantime..."

He'd like it to be known that he would do whatever he could.

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[OPEN] I live my life in shackles but I'm borderline free

Battlements

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Battlements

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