[OPEN] Running with my roots pulled up

[amygdalae]

WHO: Bruce Banner and whoever else
WHAT: Rumors abound. Bruce is good at pretending he can't hear anything. A dracolisk makes everyone's life hell.
WHEN: Across Justinian
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Belated open log thing for the remainder of June; prompts and such are under the cut. Starting in brackets but feel free to switch to prose and I will follow. If you want specific prompts/starters, let me know @ knightblazer or PM this journal!

one. trouble on four hooves. (stables)

[It's not exactly the first time the horsemaster is on his case and it probably won't be the last as well, if the current situation is to go by it.

Horsemaster Dennet wasn't exactly thrilled with the dracolisk that had decided to trail all the way back here with him (muttering along the lines of 'as if one of them wasn't enough'), but the one that Bruce... was stuck with had a tendency for more collateral damage. Nothing major, at least, but after breaking three gates and four fences in its apparent nightly ritual of getting out of the stables there were some lines that needed to be drawn. Thus, this current situation.

The hammer in his hand pounds loudly against the nails as Bruce does his best fixing up the damage the dracolisk had caused in the last few nights. The sleeves of his threadbare shirts are rolled up, for even with the chill here pounding away like this still made him sweat quite a bit, especially as he continued to toil away the hours.

Beside him the dracolisk chewed delicately on some hay, clearly much calmer and less prone to violence now that its human was around.]

two. not quite back to business (healing tents, courtyard)

[It was impossible to ignore the rumors, even if they weren't that hotly circulated, for better or for worse. But still the damage had been done and it would be a lie if he said that things were the same as before.

Nothing was the same as it used to be. After the fallout with Adelaide things didn't really quite look up. Patients who once came to him for help now avoided his gaze entirely and went to others, and the new ones who came in now looked at him with wariness, with all the suspicion that frustrated Bruce more than anything else. This was one of the reasons why he hid his magic away, why he stuck to herbs and what he could do with nothing but his head and his own two hands. He was here to help and he didn't need his magic to do it. It wasn't worth any of this.

(But of course, he deserved it. He knows that. He deserves every bit of this.)

Still, regardless of everything, he came here to do a job and despite all that had happened, there were always going to be people who needed help. So Bruce does the best he can, going around the courtyard to treat whoever was willing to accept his help and aiding anybody who came to his tent while he was in there.]

three. midnight mulling (battlements)

[The battlements had, in a way, become something of a sanctuary to him now. When the night gets this dark and most of Skyhold is asleep, the biting chill of the cold and the silence of the night comforts him well.

On most other nights he'd have the excuse of potion brewing to be up here but tonight that desire isn't there. He sits on the floor, back against one of the walls as he glances out to the mountains that surround them, the sky above that twinkle with countless stars. When everything feels so vast and overwhelming its easy enough to lose himself into the sight, to let them take him away from the chaos of his mind and his soul. To find that momentary peace within himself again, when every part of him rages for something else otherwise.]

wildcard.

[Feel free to throw in your own prompt or PM/contact me to plot out stuff!]

Comments

[stabsbooks]

People.

[ He doesn't have to tell her what a fragile thing that is. The Maker - even though the Maker is gone, Cassandra can still believe that he is watching, that he has a plan and that her faith in him will be rewarded.

People are fallible, and selfish, and let themselves and others down every day. She gazes at him, wondering how much he believes what he says. ]

It is something, to believe in one's own strength. In our ability to make a difference. [ She raises an eyebrow, still curious. Still trying to understand him. ] Is that why you are here, with the Inquisition? To try to change things?

[amygdalae]

[A small laugh from Bruce, more bemused than anything else.] I wouldn't dare to think myself to be able to change anything, honestly.

[And yeah, that's certainly something after what after what he had just said earlier, but. The average person could probably stand with it. Bruce... he doesn't matter. Not when he's less than human.]

I just try to help however I can. [He shrugs once again.] It's all I've ever wanted to do.

[Even back then, even before... everything.]

[stabsbooks]

You are certainly succeeding in that.

[ She says it with a certain emphasis, stressing the truth of it. Cassandra doesn't give compliments lightly, and she suspects that Bruce is the type to be singularly resistant to accepting them. ]

You are a skilled healer, Bruce. I have heard nothing but praise from your colleagues. And besides, I have seen for myself both your expertise and your talent with difficult patients.

[ She smiles, gently, willing to poke at herself a bit. ]

You have done good work, and you should be proud of it.

[ The but hangs in the air, unsaid. Is it enough for him? Is he actually satisfied with his life, or is he still hiding from something else? His destiny, perhaps. His potential to be more. ]

[amygdalae]

[A compliment from the Right Hand herself is not something Bruce ever expects himself to get, especially with recent events. It shows on his face briefly, a flash of surprise that he quickly covers up with a frown as he rubs the side of his face in an unconscious gesture.]

I, ah... thank you, I suppose. [Pause.] But you give too much credit. I'm just one person in the end, and there's only so much I can do.

[Compared to other people like Adelaide or Cassandra herself or most of the Inquisition, he really has nothing much to show.]

[stabsbooks]

We are all "just one person," Bruce.

[ She can imagine his protests already, and waves them off ahead of time with a dismissive shake of her head. ]

I give you no more credit than you have earned. It is only when we work together that we ever manage to accomplish anything lasting at all.

[ And even that is never a guarantee. ]

[amygdalae]

[Bruce, indeed, does open his mouth to try and protest, but is stopped before he is able by Cassandra already waving them off. With nothing else to say for the moment all he can do is to fall back quiet, his hands rubbing together in an unconscious gesture.]

I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to go against something I had voiced out not too long ago. [A small, wry smile crosses his face as he says that, though it quickly turns into something a bit more grateful.] ...thank you for understanding, Seeker Pentaghast. Most others have not been--as open, but I don't blame them either.

[He had fooled them for--what, nearly a year? He had been around since Haven, after all.]

[stabsbooks]

[ Cassandra inclines her head quietly in acknowledgement. ]

I have had my troubles with mages in the past. It is not so strange that you might wish to be free of magic's dangers and its complications.

[ She stands, signaling an end to the conversation, but glances down at him. ]

But it is a gift from the Maker - and it can be a gift from you to those you wish to help, if you choose to use it. What you do now is for you alone to decide. If you wish to speak again, however...I am here.

[amygdalae]

[If only there were as many people who could be as understanding as the Seeker - at least for this situation. But Bruce knows that not having to face the ire of one of the Inquisition's advisors is already something to be grateful for, much less her understanding.

He gives a small nod to her words as well as her offer, gaze flicking down to the ground for a moment before he looks back at her with a small smile of gratitude.]

I'm humbled by such an offer. [He says, voice quiet.] But I think I will be fine. [Or he will make himself be fine, anyway. He has to.] Thank you for lending an ear, Seeker Pentaghast. I truly appreciate it.