faderift | [Open] Did Your Mama Tell You About Me?

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[Open] Did Your Mama Tell You About Me?

WHO: Meoni Kost and you!
WHAT: Catch all for the later half of Justinian, just to get introduced
WHEN: 15th of June/Justinian onward
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Set after she's rescued from Red Templars. Both prose and brackets are fine, present or past tense.

1. Healer Tents, 15 - 22 Justinian

The first few days had been rocky. Between the exposure to red lyrium and various festering infections, Meoni was sure she would die. But the healers were good, or maybe she was just lucky. Whatever the reason, she was alive now, sitting up in bed and carefully flexing her fingers. Her right wrist was infected from the shackles she'd been in. The healers had tried to be careful when dealing with the infection, but her fingers still ached.

Meoni glanced up as the flap shifted, unsure if it was the wind or a healer or a patient. The tent was one of the bigger ones, to account for the space she took up, but it also meant that she was more likely to share with other patients who needed the space.

2. Tavern, after 22 Justinian

Meoni sat in a corner, sipping cheap ale as she considered her letter. She hadn't got very far into it, and spent more time staring off into space than actually writing. She was leaving her mercenary company--and Meoni knew they would let her go, but it was hard to come up with the words to leave the company she'd been with for twenty-five years. Especially after her team...

Right. She needed to send a list of the people who had died--meaning, everyone but her. Meoni's grip tightened on the mug, and she took a few heavy swallows.

"Maker, take me," She muttered, and set the mug down again.

3. Training grounds, after 22 Justinian

The healers hadn't cleared her to fight, or even for combat training, but they had grudgingly allowed her to exercise. If Meoni was being honest, basic exercise was all she was really up for at this point. Even out of armor, she was already sweating heavily after a round of basic training--lifting stones, jumping, and so on. It wasn't that her strength wasn't there, she'd just lost a lot of endurance. For the type of fighting she did, that wasn't useful in the last. Meoni took a pull from her flask, breathing slowly through the ache in her chest. It was going to be a long few weeks, wasn't it?

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The first few days back were filled with Korrin pestering the healers, or at least it must have seemed so to them. She wasn't a healer herself, so there was nothing she could do on that end, but the Vashoth mage nonetheless felt responsible for her well-being, given that she was one of those to bring her back. Only insistence that Meoni needed rest and not visitors for now kept her at bay, and only until that temporary ban was lifted.

As soon as it is, Korrin is barreling down toward the tents at a pace which sets anyone nearby suddenly diverting their steps around her for fear of being trampled. She takes no notice, instead coming to a halt and entering more carefully and quietly than she would just about anywhere else. It wouldn't do to finally be allowed in only to awaken Meoni and other patients because of her stomping around.

"Meoni...?"

Meoni looks at the young Vashoth, taking a moment to recognize her. Korrin...Korrin Asher? No, Asher was one of the humans. Korrin Dragon. Ataash. That sounds right. Meoni was, frankly, a little delusional during the whole rescue. She's almost impressed with herself.

"Yeah... You were on the team that helped--rescued me. Korrin Ataash?" It's an important distinction. Meoni would be dead if it weren't for them and the Inquisition, there's no getting around that.

Well, Korrin's impressed and she doesn't bother to hide it. Her eyebrows raise, not expecting Meoni to retain that much given the state they found her in, but that improves her mood. It's a good sign, and hopefully speaks well of her recovery. She nods and approaches, stopping short of the bed and resting her hands on her hips, a small smile forming.

"Yeah, that's right. I'm surprised you remember, between exposure to that crap and everything else. But what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? Or something like that."

Definitely young, maybe a "grab the world by the horns" type. Meoni almost snorts at her own stupid pun, and decides to save it for later. If there is a later.

"Something like that," Meoni agrees, looking back down at her hands. It's amazing how tired she is, despite doing next to nothing for days. It's healing, but Andraste's ass is it aggravating to wake up already exhausted.

Meoni realizes, eyes jerking back to Korrin's, that she should fill the silence. It's polite, even if she's a little...off. "I don't actually remember if I said it or just thought it really loudly," She said, smiling wryly. "But thank you."

"So." Mal and Jayne plunk down right across from her, lips twisted in a half smile while Jayne settles down between them under the table. "You got...somth'n of a familiar look. I ain't gonna pretend t'know exactly what you're go'n through, different lives and all that but-"

He shrugs somewhat awkwardly, hunching forward a touch. The half smile goes faintly sharp, a little bitter, a lot sad. "I got an inkl'n of where you are, right now. Been there myself before. If you wanna talk or...not talk and just drink or want me t'piss off? Say the word."

Anders comes in quietly, hoping not to disturb the young woman's rest. That's ended as soon as he sees her sitting up. He gives her a nod, heading over to a table near her.

"How are you feeling? Shall I take a look at your hand?" He knows shackle wounds, knows how easily they can get serious and the way everything is worse when it's your hands. She's dealt with it well, though, from everything he's seen and heard.

Edited 2016-06-21 08:52 (UTC)

Noting Meoni's exhaustion despite the lucidity, Korrin wonders if perhaps she should have waited to barge in. Perhaps the woman had as low of a tolerance for idleness and boredom as she did, but she's still not fully recovered. There's a pang of guilt, even as Korrin plans to make it up to her somehow.

Echoing the smile, she nods. "You're very welcome. I'm just glad we were able to get there in time. I thought it was just going to be a cathartic mission, smashing Red Templars, not that we'd find anyone else there. I should have remembered Emprise du Lion." That last part is said with undeniable bitterness, never able to forgive the Red Templars for what they did to the people there. "Want me to smuggle anything over to you? If you've an appetite, the kitchen just made a bunch of stuff, like stew, bread and hearth cakes."

Had Anders called Meoni a young woman to her face, she would have laughed at him. Instead, her lips quirk a little.

"Better with you around," She offers. Even if she's not feeling great, flirting is second nature to her. Also, getting on the medic's good side seems like a good idea.

Knowing that when most healers ask a question they mean do this, Meoni nods and offers her hand out. "It's not...seeping as much anymore, at least." Thankfully, Meoni doesn't need much precision to fight. The problem lies in keeping her wrist strong. So, it could be worse, but it could be better.

Now, the last time Rachette saw someone that out of breath and exhausted-looking on the grounds was when Kain was battling spirits while ill. Rachette was no healer, by any means, and she had never met this particular qunari that she knew of, but she was still curious enough to approach.

"Should you be out here?" It wasn't an accusation. Maybe she was supposed to be out here and had finished some hour-long marathon of training. "You haven't taken ill, have you?"

Meoni has half a mind to ask about Emprise du Lion, but decides not to after hearing Korrin's tone. Maybe later, when she doesn't have time to stew in her own thoughts.

"I'm not very hungry... but if you have the time to chat with an old lady like me, I'd appreciate the company," Meoni says. She's gotten to know some of the healers well enough, but with a whole army of people and refugees, there's only so much time to be spent talking.

Meoni considers him for a long moment. She remembers that he's one of the three humans who rescued her, and she remembers names, but not which go where. Asher Malcolm Cullen Bronson Jayne. And Korrin, but her name is more distinctive. Cullen is the blond commander of this whole thing. Jayne is probably one of the dogs. Meoni decides to give up the guessing game before she calls him by the wrong name, and just gives him a sad little smile.

"No, you're fine." Meoni leans over gingerly to look at the dog for just a moment, not sure if she was allowed to offer a hand to pet or not. She didn't have much experience with animals. "Thank you, by the way. I remember you were on the team that helped me..." But not his name.

Meoni blinked and rubbed her good hand over her eyes and forehead to clear the sweat. A dwarf was speaking to her, but beyond that she was young. She hadn't even shed all the baby fat from her face.

"I'm alright, I just got out of the infirmary," Meoni assured her, trying not to smile too much. "I'm cleared for exercise as long as I stay hydrated." She didn't mean to be dismissive, but she found it...cute, when kids worried after her.

Yeah, that topic might require a few drinks first, and Korrin's pretty sure that the healers won't allow Meoni to share in those just yet. It's a shame, but they'll get to that later. (And if Meoni thought she could handle something relatively weak, Korrin would probably still find a way to smuggle it to her.)

Nodding, she flops down onto an empty seat, not going to take up one of the empty cots in case it might see use. Being bigger than almost everyone else is no excuse to be a jerk, after all. "Hey, absolutely. I can answer whatever questions you have about the Inquisition or Skyhold or whatever. I've been here since the temple explosion, some months ago...most of a year, now? Fuck." When she says it aloud, it seems so strange.

A little smile plays on his lips at her reply and he comes over.

"I do like to hear that. Both parts." He's careful as he takes her arm in hand and starts unwrapping the bandages. "Now the real question is how much better you would have been feeling if I'd been wearing my nice robes."

The wound is getting better. Much better, in fact, but it's not healed yet. "Keep your arm there for a moment while I get the salve and clean dressings." There's not a please in there. It's direction, but it's given warmly at least.

"And your name is Meoni, yes?" There are always new faces coming to the tents. Anders can't learn everyone's names, but the friendly ones should be remembered.

Meoni's eyebrows arch, but she smiles a little. "That's certainly a long time...so, you're a Vashoth?" She doesn't have the accent, and uses a full name. Meoni's Pa had stuck with his title, though since they mostly spoke the common tongue, it sounded like a name to the unskilled in Qunlat. "How did you come to join up--I mean, explosion at the temple and all, but surely you weren't in it?" As far as she knew, only the Herald had survived.

"I think that depends on whether they're on you or the floor," Meoni says, quirking an eyebrow. At least she's feeling okay enough to do this. There's no real intent behind her words, and she's not looking at anything other than his face. Still, she finds it witty.

While he bustles around, Meoni supports her right arm with her left. "Yes, Meoni Kost. I don't think I've caught your name?" There were a lot of healers, and she was fairly groggy for some of the visits.

"Oh. Good." At least with Kain she could awkwardly serve as someone to sort of lean a hand and some body weight on. She had no idea what she would do if a qunari keeled over. "Means I don't have to drag you back to the tents. That would be a sight to see. You just looked really winded, and you know how some people are, not stopping when they should've stopped ages ago. I think the Inquisition draws those types."

She nods, after a moment to turn the chair around so she can rest her arms along the back, straddling it. "Yeah, I'm Vashoth, raised mostly in the Free Marches and sometimes Rivain. And no, I wasn't caught up in the blast. I was off in the Hinterlands guarding someone's estate from roaming rebel mages and Templars trying to kill each other. Some of my company, the Valo-Kas, were working security at the temple. There was only one survivor from that, the Herald. That was...not a fun day. I stuck around because someone was going to answer for that, and I wanted to be there to help grind them into dust."

"Captain Malcolm Reynolds." He offers a hand across the table much in the same way Jayne leans over enough to butt his head against her knee. Scratches or snacks, get with the program. For the moment Mal doesn't say anything to make him quit. Little distractions can help when you're hip deep in this kinda mess.

"Sorry we didn't get there sooner. We heard they'd been wander'n about but not that they'd had people." Not that the'd started kill'n 'em.

"They'll unfortunately be on me," he says as he returns. It's a safer thing than answering the question, but he can't exactly avoid it. For long. "I'm taken. And I'm... known as Anders."

The smile is a little tense now, as he waits for what reaction is coming. "...I can get another healer if you need that."

"Ah, the Free Marches. I grew up out there, too." Frankly, she'd probably already joined Vedas' Marchers before Korrin was even walking.

As Korrin continues, Meoni grimaces sympathetically. She knows what it's like to lose company members--and the Valos-Kas are much more tightly knit than her own...than her old group, Vedas' Marchers.

"Maker, do I know the feeling." Meoni reaches up to touch what's left of her right horn. The base of her scalp isn't infected anymore, but there's a scab that means she can't braid her hair back without reopening it. "It looks like you're doing a good job, if what work you did with the templars out there is normal."

"Meoni Kost. It's good to talk with you like this." Meaning, when she's not a complete mess in a dungeon. Despite the bandage and shackle wounds, her grip is firm. When she's finished with the handshake, she drops her hand down to scratch his dog behind the ear.

It's...a lot softer than she expected.

"Don't be. I wasn't really expecting a rescue by that point." She was probably presumed dead along with the rest of her team and the crew on the boat. Really, the letter is to let them know they can start retrieving the bodies. "I was the only one who really...lasted." If nothing else, at least there was that. Of those who hadn't immediately died, they'd quickly succumbed to their wounds before the red templars could do much with them. It was kinder than torture, at least to her.

Meoni pauses for a long moment as she takes in the name. Anders. He'd...blown up a chantry in Kirkwall. Killed a hundred people or so.

Their world was full of atrocities. As a mercenary, she had killed many people, but they knew what they were getting into. That had killed so many innocents, and as far as Meoni knew, the chantry didn't deserve that.

"...the Inquisition is letting you heal their soldiers and refugees?" The words are sharp, and Meoni stares him down, heat bubbling to the surface.

Meoni actually laughed, low and sudden. "At least it would make for a good show. Really, I'm okay, but thank you." Meoni took a few heavy pulls from her canteen and wiped her hand on her pants, before stepping close and offering a handshake.

"Meoni Kost. I'd like to think I'm not one of those types, but I guess if I'm here..."

Edited (sometimes I make poor choices with icons) 2016-06-24 03:40 (UTC)

"No, I'm here to hold things." The sarcasm is sharp, edged. "Let's skip the bullshit, shall we? Anything you want to say because you think you've some sort of right to be upset has already been said, you're probably ill-informed, and I can heal you or not."

He's got enough to do with preparation for other matters. Anders has no patience for some new person who is going to get worked up and throw a temper tantrum. Especially a qunari. The only things any qunari had to do with Kirkwall had been to slaughter; at least he'd done what he'd done to save lives.

"Your call on whether I leave now and you get to sit here and wait for someone else, or I tend to your injury."

Meoni held his gaze for a long moment.

Not your call.

He was a murderer and a terrorist.

Not your Maker-damned call, Kost.

It didn't matter what she thought, he was here. She wasn't stupid enough to think that the higher ups didn't know about it. They'd looked at him and let him in, and even if she disagreed with their reasoning, Meoni had thoroughly proven that her own couldn't be relied on.

"Please." The word was clipped, but Meoni kept her arm out for him to heal.

Korrin smiles briefly at meeting a fellow Marcher, not that they're lacking in numbers around here but still. Her gaze turns to what's left of that horn, pensive and wondering what other ordeals Meoni has been through but it seems insensitive to ask when she's still bedridden from that most recent experience. So she'll mostly keep to her own experience, nodding with a little pride at mention of those Red Templars. They'd terrified her when she first saw and fought them, so the ease with which she can dispatch them now is well-earned.

"That's because we've had a lot of practice. Red Templars aren't exactly an uncommon sight in some places, unfortunately, but that means we've become better at dealing with them. They keep trying to entrench themselves around the South, but I'd like to think we've made a dent in their efforts.

And hey, I've some of my company that are here now. We could always meet up later when you're well enough and swap stories. Taaranda's our warrior, young and sweet and a dog-magnet. She's the new Vashoth liaison to the Inquisition, so if there's any issue on that end, bring it to her. Lena's our Tempest and a demon with daggers, also loves pretending that she's all-jerk though she isn't. There are plenty here who aren't part of the company either, more than I've ever seen outside it or Rivain."

He nodded, curtly, before taking her arm and examining the spots that looked too dried out carefully. Some are looking like they could lead to scarring so they get a salve reapplied before he starts to cast creation magic. Just because someone's holding on to anger doesn't mean he'll skimp on her care.

The healing process gets stimulated, skin continuing to regrow a faster and better than it would naturally, but this still isn't over. It never is, with shackles, and for a moment the frown on his lips isn't meant for her. His own scarred wrists, only spotted if she's choosing to pay attention, won't ever be healed of the marks. Hers at least still can.

"I'm going to re-wrap them. The bandages need to stay on for eight hours at least." His tone allows for no arguing. He is a healer.

In her time on the surface, Rachette had picked up a few things, especially here in Skyhold. The extended hand got an odd look until she recalled that it is a common greeting on the surface. She had first thought it was only among humans, but she'd seen others do it as well. A handshake then. She accepted that, her relatively small hand in Meoni's relatively large one.

"Rachette." Her family name was unimportant. "It takes all types in a place like this. Certainly plenty here that aren't fighters in any way, because people need letters written to, or repairs made, or food cooked. But I don't think any of those people see any reason to work at those jobs until they collapse."

Jayne does have a mighty soft coat. S'all the meat he gets to eat or steal or beg off people that ignore Mal when he asks them not to feed him. Meoni being new gets herself a big old dose of the puppy eyes- maybe cuz she don't know better she'll feed him a little bit of whatever she's got. Or keep right on scratch'n. He's just as pleased either way.

Mal don't even give him any shit for trying to be all cozy with Meoni. Lie through what she been through? Hav'n a dog to distract you ain't noth'n. "It ain't always easy, be'n the one to walk away."

More often than not it's a damn sight harder. "It...gets easier. Coupla years'll go by and it'll hurt less."

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[Open] Did Your Mama Tell You About Me?

Healing Tents

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Tavern

Healing tents, 18th Justinian

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Andeeeers :D

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Hiiiiiii :D

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