[OPEN] It's thunder and it's lightning

[amygdalae]

WHO: Bruce Not-Banner and anybody else
WHAT: Somehow its business as usual. And also a dracolisk who continues to makes his life interesting in all the best ways.
WHEN: Across all of August, 9:42 Dragon
WHERE: Orlais or Skyhold. Timey wimey ball in effect.
NOTES: Catch all and stuff for this month. Like before I'm starting in brackets, but feel free to switch around to prose and I'll follow. If you want to plot stuff or request individual starters, feel free to either PM me, get me on Plurk @ knightblazer or Discord @ knightblazer#8835.

one. fancy roads and fancier people (orlais)

[Orlais is, and will most likely never be, Bruce's cup of tea - to put it mildly. The people here felt too... fake, hiding behind their masks and whispering as if nobody could hear them, could see the way they were so clearly scheming. Things they could all so easily less do of and focus on more important things, like helping the countless people living in constant poverty. Not that he was expecting anything like that anytime soon.

The nerve of these people sometimes.

Though he is but one person Bruce does whatever he can to help still. He goes around lower districts and out into the countryside where the sick, the old and the poor need help the most, and can be easily found giving consultations for those who come to seek for it and medications to those who do need it using his own coin that he gets from working in the Inquisition.

In fact, if you're lucky (or unlucky) enough, you can chance him up in the high quarters, where he grudgingly goes up there in order to shop for all those needed herbs and medicines, some of which only can be found here in the heart of Orlais. Not that knowledge helps him sometimes, because some of these shopkeepers really want to suck people dry and Bruce finds himself having to bargain one too many times. It can get kind of draining after a while.

And yes, while he's here, he's still stuck in the armor set that the Inquisition loaned him.]

two. no more fancy streets for me (skyhold)

[Bruce never thought he'd be thinking it, but it was good to be back in Skyhold. If only because that meant he wasn't in Orlais. For now, anyway.

Either way, its good to be out of that armor.

It's easy enough to settle back into his usual routine once he's settled back down. Bruce can be found in his usual places for the most part during the day - the healing tents where he tends to most of the patients under his care, around the courtyard when he makes his daily rounds to attend to those who can't quite come to him, the gardens where he works however he can to ensure that the herbs and plants continue to flourish and for those who want to seek him out during the night - the battlements, where he dwells up there more often than not and uses those restless nights to experiment with some potion making.

On some nights though instead of the battlements he's instead in the library, perusing through numerous texts and jotting down notes in his worn leather journal. If there's at least one good thing that came out of his mage status being revealed, its at least the fact that he no longer has to sneak around just to read a magical tome or two. Not that it makes him feel any better, but it does help that the rumors around him aren't as strong as they used to be, now that the people have other things to be occupied with.

And finally, he can be sometimes found at the stables, reluctantly tending to the dracolisk he's more or less stuck with at this point. And maybe sometimes taking it out to try and train it. And speaking of that...]

three. you sir are not a dog (skyhold, stables)

--no, I said, stay.

[It's definitely a bit of a sight should one chance upon it - Bruce with a hand raised, making the universal gesture of stop towards the dracolisk that's apparently determined to follow him around. Or at least, as evidenced by Bruce dropping his hand, taking a few steps backward... and sighing when he sees the dracolisk following him still.]

I said, stay. [Bruce runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head.] You can't follow me all around Skyhold.

[He steps forward now, closer to the dracolisk, and it only backs away a little when Bruce comes it too closely for it to really be able to take a good look at its human. It snorts and flicks its tail when they both stop moving, and Bruce is left to stare at it for a good moment.]

Alright, let's try this again. [He raises his hand once more.] Stay.

[He clicks his tongue after that, slowly lowering his hand... and then the dracolisk leans back on its hindlegs, eventually assuming--well, like this.

A few moments pass as Bruce stares at what had just happened. Then he lowers his hand.

--he supposes its close enough.]

wildcard.

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

Comments

[amygdalae]

[He has a feeling there is something to all of this - the Left Hand of the Divine is not one for idle conversation, not unless they are somebody who she knows well, he assumes. She's always stuck him as a private person; not that its surprising, considering what she does here for the Inquisition. She wouldn't have started talking to him if there wasn't a reason for it.

Its easy enough to think of a few, given recent events, but Bruce knows better than to come out and ask. Last thing he wants to do is to risk it. So for now he... plays along, to use the best term he can think of.]

I suppose that might be why it was so welcoming when we were there. [The wry smile on his face remains.] It must be nice, I suppose, that it finally had somebody that could respond back in turn.

[fightingale]

Perhaps so. I imagine it is too much to hope that anyone attempted to reply in kind?

( The idea of any member of the Inquisition attempting to speak poetry to a possessed sylvan in the name of a mission is, really, more than a little entertaining. Enough that that smile widens just fractionally, before she remembers herself. Or, at least, until she appears to remember herself.

Quite whether this is a deliberate move of gentle informality or something genuine is part of a subtlety that is rather hard even for Leliana to pin down, at times. )

[amygdalae]

I think most of us were too taken aback to try something like that.

[Bruce himself included. Though he also did have a few other concerns at that point, but the talking tree was still certainly... something, alright.]

It's strange how it's been there for so long, but yet barely anybody knew of its existence. [It seemed like beyond the so called 'Heroes of the Fifth Blight', nobody really was aware of something like this being around.]

[fightingale]

A pity. I'm sure he would have appreciated someone embarking on such an epic.

( Or, more accurately, Leliana would have enjoyed hearing about it.

She cannot help a very slight smirk. )

Perhaps they were simply eager to banish it from their memory.

[amygdalae]

[It certainly would have been something, alright. And despite himself Bruce does crack a smile of his own - a small one, but its there all the same.]

Or maybe nobody could take the story as truth. [It really is the kind of thing that one finds it hard to believe unless they actually see it for themselves.]

[fightingale]

There are a good many things that we might doubt, even told to use by those whom we trust.

( A pause, then, and she considers Bruce again, the fingertips of her left hand resting lightly on the table. )

Which rather leads us to another matter I would speak with you about, if you've time.

( "If you've time" meaning "you will make time," in the nicest possible way. )

[amygdalae]

[And so here it comes.

Bruce pauses for a fraction longer than he probably should have, even if on the outside his expression doesn't change at all. Both Seeker Pentaghast and Commander Rutherford were their own people and the Nightingale is her own, likewise. They all have their own feelings on the matter and though Bruce knows none of them are giving him a punishment of any sort the fact remains that he had lied to them. Now that they know--well.

Nothing to do but take it.]

Certainly. [He tries a smile but it doesn't really go anywhere - its hard to really smile anyway, considering the way this conversation is going to turn.] If there's anyway I can help, don't hesitate to ask for it.

[fightingale]

I do not believe help, as such, is required. Clarification, however, is another matter.

( Her tone stays rather light, and her posture is relaxed by Leliana standards, although that hardly says much. )

I understand you had retained a certain level of secrecy regarding particular talents of yours. I—

( And she pauses, careful. ), was concerned that certain events these past months may have compelled you to keep certain matters secret, rather than feeling comfortable disclosing them.

[amygdalae]

[It's... actually surprising. Not so much as the question in those words, perhaps, but the way she said it, and how she seems--

It almost felt more like... concern? But that'd be ridiculous. He was just one person. And one who lied (and was still lying), even. He would have thought that of all people, the Spymaster of the Inquisition was one of the people who detested liars the most.

That surprise probably shows on his face, briefly, but Bruce quickly squares back his expression.]

I-- [He pauses, hesitant. He does owe her a degree of truth - and he suspects she won't be at ease until she does know - but the truth is a terrible thing. Even with her, the Left Hand of the Divine, there are things he could not disclose.] --it played a huge part of that, I admit. But mostly it was the fact that people were more trusting of a surgeon with his hands than a healer who had a staff on his back. Being a mage stands out too much, and invites trouble more often than not. I wanted to keep low and not draw attention. It felt like the most appropriate course of action.

[So its not her fault - or anybody's fault, really. This was a choice Bruce made himself.]