chainlightning: (❧ front)
мerrιℓℓ ([personal profile] chainlightning) wrote in [community profile] faderift2016-07-04 11:16 pm

you don't own the green pines

WHO: Merrill and open!
WHAT: An open log.
WHEN: Justinian 20th - mid-Solace
WHERE: Skyhold and the surrounding area
NOTES: Some talk of violence, injuries, death.



late justinian through early solace | healing tents
[ Justice is dead, but he nearly took many others with them -- Merrill included. She's in a bad way for a few days, especially after; her cheekbone is broke, her ribs mostly intact but her internal organs badly bruised, along with various and sundry scrapes, cuts, bite marks, bruises, and burns.

Still, she's a decent patient. She stays put in the tents, at least, though they can't quite get her to stop talking when she's feeling well enough to sit up and do so. Visitors are allowed at the discretion of the healers, but Merrill isn't going to turn anyone (or anything) away. ]


early solace | around skyhold
[ When she's allowed to leave the healing tents, it's not full-time. They don't want her going down to the Warden camp to sleep, but she's allowed to wander Skyhold as long as she's careful. As a result, Merrill mostly relaxes -- visits with friends or with potential new friends, sits in the garden, watches the birds.

She likes to go visit the griffons, when she can, though she has to be careful. They're less good about watching for injuries. ]


early-mid solace | camp shady fucker
[ When she's allowed to move more, when she's more patched up between a combination of time and magic, Merrill gets to work. Sleeping in a tent isn't new, but the events at Weisshaupt have shaken her. If they need to get out, she wants to be able to move quickly.

She starts to gather supplies. Wood, mostly, but any who know much about the Dalish may recognize what begins to take shape or the plans that Merrill checks every once in a while: an aravel. ]


wildcard
[ you know what to do ]
byblow: (78)

[personal profile] byblow 2016-07-13 09:30 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Somehow it's worse, with the griffon. Maybe he should have asked her to come outside first. Not because it might bite her (though it might) but because Alistair is probably ruining what should be a pleasant time. ]

He's—dead. Probably, I mean. He wasn't when we left, but that was—

[ A journey across Orlais ago. Does that sound insensitive? It sounds insensitive. He doesn't mean to. It's just how his mouth works: independent of most of his good sense. ]

I'm sorry.
byblow: (46)

[personal profile] byblow 2016-07-14 12:05 am (UTC)(link)
[ Alistair winces. Partly from the question, partly from the screeching. He isn't an animal person by nature, honestly—he likes dogs and horses because he was raised among them and they're practically family, but the griffons, however legendary and majestic, can stay over there. Screeching at Merrill. Who seems to know what to do with them. ]

It was his time. [ Shoulder still in the door frame, he looks down at his hands, awkwardly fidgeting with his fingernails without quite stooping to picking the dirt out of them. He sounds distant, but in a shell shocked way, not a cold one. He's been through this before. It's certainly not any easier when people outside the Wardens have to have it explained to them. ] It happens to all of us. We're tainted— [ some people know that, some don't, Alistair is sick of secrets regardless ] —with the Blight, and eventually it catches up to us.

It's a hero's death, [ he's quick to add. ] To die fighting instead of letting it take you. You should be proud.

[ Or, you know. Devasted. Whichever. ]
Edited 2016-07-14 00:06 (UTC)
byblow: (69)

[personal profile] byblow 2016-07-24 10:45 pm (UTC)(link)
What?

[ But he catches her and holds onto her and resists the urge to push her back by the shoulders so he can look her in the face and make her repeat herself clearly. Alistair has been told he's a good hugger--and it's true, when he's not encased in armor. He gives Merrill his best effort, rubbing her back and angling his head to talk to the side of her face. ]

It would have been coming for a long time, Merrill, it was... [ Inevitable, he'd like to say, but he suspects she'd argue. ] I'm sorry he didn't tell you.
byblow: (49)

[personal profile] byblow 2016-08-02 03:52 am (UTC)(link)
[ It probably wasn't quick. But Alistair hopes so, too, so it isn't dishonest of him to nod his agreement. When she pulls back he lets go obligingly, mostly, save for a hand on her shoulder.

He waits a moment. He still feels bad asking. But it's more important than her grief or Herc's death--which is no comment on Herc's worth. It's more important than Alistair's life, too. It's more important than a lot of things. ]


Merrill, what do you mean you can remove the taint?
byblow: (7)

[personal profile] byblow 2016-08-22 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
[ Alistair looks at her, then past her, as if perhaps the griffon might be eavesdropping--or Maja, more likely, wherever she's wandered off to--and. judging him. That's the worst either of them could do. But it would be painful.

Fortunately, Maja remains out of sight and earshot, and Ghostface has gone back to grooming. ]


Yes, [ he says after that pause, looking back at Merrill. ] If you're not killing anyone, if you can do it without that--

[ Without turning into Clarel. ]

--it could be worth it. [ He rubs the corner of his mouth with his knuckles, thinking and hesitating, and adds, ] We're hardly in the position to be judgmental. [ Not just because of Clarel. Their Joining is blood magic. ] We should talk at the camp.
byblow: (78)

[personal profile] byblow 2016-09-06 12:18 am (UTC)(link)
No, no, I don't think... Everyone's a bit upset. But soon.

[ Due to Herc. There's a certain weary stoicism--they've all lost people, this way and other ways--but the fact that it gets easier also makes it worse, somehow, like not being terribly cold but also knowing you'll never feel warm again, ever.

Unless Merrill can fix that with blood magic, too. ]


Does Bethany know? Or Anders?
byblow: (80)

[personal profile] byblow 2016-09-07 06:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ Despite the circumstances, constipated earns a mouth-twitch that doesn't entirely fade away, so he doesn't have quite so far to stretch his mouth at that last part, when it's time to smile, a little, reassuringly. In a sad way. But the reasons he's sad don't have much to do with her or her magic. ]

We're very good at secrets, [ he says--that's why he's sad--and lowers his voice: ] There's not a Warden alive who hasn't been involved in at least a little blood magic. We've got you.

[ And lower still-- ] I'll slip Anders some prunes.