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born from dark water, daughter of the rain and snow
WHO: Herian Amsel, Leliana & Ruby Lucas and various and also open
WHAT: various! a catch-all for three losers
WHEN: throughout August
WHERE: Skyhold, Orlais, and much much more (not actually much more.)
(Herian will be in Skyhold for the first week or so of August, and then is heading back to Orlais, Leliana will be in Skyhold throughout, Ruby is probably in Orlais most of the month.)
NOTES: Prose or brackets are fine! If you would like to do a thing and these starters don't fit or you'd like something custom, feel free to pm me or prod me on plurk @karmacharging.
WARNINGS:
Herian's background includes themes of violence, torture and death, as well as discrimination and PTSD. While she will not in general be vocal about some of her own prejudices (against apostates, Dalish and nobles as some examples) it is very likely to come up in narrative and could come up in dialogue depending on interactions. Here is an opt out post if you'd rather certain things be avoided, or if you'd like to opt out of interactions with her in general.
Leliana is princess stabbity, it's hard to avoid depending on the thread so heads up for potential mention of Assassin Life, opt out here.
Ruby has potential for mentions of murder, cannibalism (both accidental) and depression, they are easily avoidable depending on threads, but here is an opt out post if you would like me to steer clear of particular topics, or opt out of interactions with Ruby generally.
WHAT: various! a catch-all for three losers
WHEN: throughout August
WHERE: Skyhold, Orlais, and much much more (not actually much more.)
(Herian will be in Skyhold for the first week or so of August, and then is heading back to Orlais, Leliana will be in Skyhold throughout, Ruby is probably in Orlais most of the month.)
NOTES: Prose or brackets are fine! If you would like to do a thing and these starters don't fit or you'd like something custom, feel free to pm me or prod me on plurk @karmacharging.
WARNINGS:
Herian's background includes themes of violence, torture and death, as well as discrimination and PTSD. While she will not in general be vocal about some of her own prejudices (against apostates, Dalish and nobles as some examples) it is very likely to come up in narrative and could come up in dialogue depending on interactions. Here is an opt out post if you'd rather certain things be avoided, or if you'd like to opt out of interactions with her in general.
Leliana is princess stabbity, it's hard to avoid depending on the thread so heads up for potential mention of Assassin Life, opt out here.
Ruby has potential for mentions of murder, cannibalism (both accidental) and depression, they are easily avoidable depending on threads, but here is an opt out post if you would like me to steer clear of particular topics, or opt out of interactions with Ruby generally.
( open. ) herian — halamshiral & around the estate.
There is a little stretch at the very beginning of the month when Herian travels to Skyhold with a collection of Inquisition requisitions and troops and others needing to make a return to Skyhold. The elves that she brought to Halamshiral travel, and that is the only reason for it that she has. She is not yet certain if the Inquisition is a damned thing, or if she should stay. For now, she is more than half certain she should take her leave and continue to try and help the elves of Orlais.
( a. ) patching herself up.
A scuffle with bandits on the return journey, and though she was unharmed and there were no others in the party, it has left her a little worse for wear. She is able enough with a sword, but trying to get by with a little magic on the open road as possible and no staff, she has to admit she has a way to go before she can be well matched against those who have held blades for so much of their lives.
She sits, now, far away from the healing tents, avoiding the smell of salves and herbs and all the rest that goes with it, though the prospect of avoiding a place where she knows Dalish to wander has a certain appeal as well. The thing is, though, that Herian is no healer, and her grasp of the medical is limited to helping in emergencies. As she tries to crush elf root in her hand and rub it over a vicious gasp across her forearm, her lip curls in something like a snarl for just half a moment before the expression is controlled again. There are other wounds, nothing life threatening, but a few that are rather painful.
( b. ) training.
Herian rises early to train, long before the sun has given thought to rising for itself. For hour upon hour she trains, sword drill after sword drill, until the sun is beating more powerfully against the earth, and she sets down her sword to dip a cup into a water bucket, and pour it down her back, another tipped over her hair. There is something of a commotion, and a couple of refugee children are belting through the yard, one shoving the water barrel so it almost goes topping over and drenching—
But Herian's hand grasps it, and although it is tall and very heavy, she manages to keep it upright. Possibly with some water dramatically splashed, yes, but not the whole thing. "Are you all right?"
( c. ) wildcard.
Very early in the month it's cool to do stuff in Skyhold, but later on she's back in Halamshiral.
( open. ) ruby — halamshiral & around the estate.
( a. ) in the alienage.
"I've—" Her voice wavers a moment, and she looks at the skeletons of buildings. They all seem like different types of carcasses, their flesh charred and their limbs warped and twisted. Buildings were one thing. People were another, and they carried the marks of all this on them as well.
Everything carries the scents of death in it that normal noses cannot smell, beyond all the obvious layers. There are times when the Wolf's nose is a gift, but this? This is seriously not one of them.
"I haven't seen anything like this in a long time." It's like the worst of Regina, but they had outright called her the Evil Queen. From what Ruby could figure, calling Celene that could risk your neck.
( b. ) wildcard.
A+ all around
"Um, thanks," he manages out once he's back up on his feet again, giving another blink when she moves to brush loose hay off from his shoulder. He runs a hand through his hair and grimaces slightly when he can feel strands of it in his hair - he'll have to deal with that later. First, though... "I'm fine, really. I can give myself a look over later if I have to."
He sends what he hopes is a reassuring smile towards the other.
no subject
Sometimes Herian feels like she can't throw a stick around this estate without encountering healers or Dalish. Or healer Dalish, which is offensive just as a concept. Meeting her had been no more delightful. Herian... does not smile, as such. Or at all, to be honest, though her eyebrow quirks.
"I've heard it said that healers are the worst patients of all, and poorly inclined to seeing to their own injuries."
Not that she thinks a few hay bales are likely to have left him with devastating internal injuries, mind, but she is hardly a qualified assessor of such things. Elfroot is helpful is much the extent of her medical knowledge, along with bleeding is bad, short of any strict instructions she has been given about whether a balm is helpful for rashvine stings or something of that ilk.
Still, she nods her understanding. "I do not believe we are yet met. Herian Amsel, Knight-Enchanter of the White Spire."
And she will hold to that, fiercely, never mind all the wretched apostates that would seek to tear it from her.
no subject
Amsel. He knew that name.
"Amsel?" he echoes despite himself, instantly regretting it the moment it slips out. Amsel. The name brings to mind memories from a lifetime ago: late night discussions in the library of the Harlem Circle, a stern voice that chastised his every action, hours spent elbows-deep in work and research and now-ruined chances. It had been a different time, a different life--a different him.
("Ballard, listen to me. Cease this foolish undertaking of yours at once."
"You're the one who doesn't understand! If this succeeds, we could help hundreds--no, thousands!")
Caught between his own fear from his slip up and just the shock of putting the connection together (were they connected? He didn't want to presume, but--) Bruce can do nothing but stare, every part of him telling him to back off as quickly as he can. It's too soon, too close, too--everything. This is one thing he isn't equipped to handle so suddenly.
no subject
That it is silent makes it no less intent, analytical of this man before her. There are any number of reasons to hesitate; that Amsel sounds so much a Nevarran name rather than one more traditionally of the Free Marches might be one point of interest, though she doubts it. That Amsel is a name across Circles might be more convincing, considering one or two she has encountered already, though again, it writes presumptions into her understanding of him and they are barely known to one another these past five minutes.
"Are you familiar with the name?" Or simply repeating it that it might be better remembered, as she has seen others do, from time to time. As she did, herself, to commit a name to memory.
no subject
"I--no." With too many thoughts in his mind Bruce can only blurt out the quickest response that comes to him; that is to deny. (Denial is always the easiest thing to do, he's done it through his whole life.) Bruce shakes his head too, if only to try and be more convincing. "No, its not." He forces himself to put on the best apologetic smile he can manage. "My apologies."
Amsel. He could never forget that name, not with how it had been seared into his memory.
no subject
Perhaps bring tumbled and tossed by errant hay bales had left him a little out of sorts. As such, the suggestion she makes is gentle, a quiet sort of prompting. "I am afraid I missed your name, ser."
It was not offered, but there is no need to make the man awkward, when he seems a little... discombobulated.
no subject
"Bre--Bruce." The fact that he was rattled enough to almost let his real name slip out is really a sign of how shaken he felt. Maker. This is nothing he had prepared himself for even after all this time. "Sorry. This probably isn't the best of first impressions."
Should he just cut his losses and retreat? That seemed like a valid idea right now.
no subject
"You earned immunity to any judgment when you were accosted by hay," she replies, and for all that she says it with her usual even tone, there is the faintest trace of humour in it. Humour, or perhaps kindness, or perhaps neither. "We are well met, Bruce. Do not concern yourself with my good opinion."
It was an elusive beast, at times, but it was not uncharitable, especially when someone seemed a little distressed.
no subject
"Yeah, uh--nice to meet you, too." He could do this. He had to do this. Deep breaths, Ballard. Internally. "And, um. Thanks for the help. If I haven't said that yet." He didn't think he had, and even if he did giving it twice wasn't going to hurt.
no subject
He seemed a little thrown, and she could hardly fault him that, not when she is herself so ill-inclined to idle chatter. She looks from him to the gates of the estate, through which the haycart will trundle (so long as it does not simply crash into the wall, which seems a likely possibility with such fools granting their horses commands.)
"If you are not otherwise engaged," she starts, considering, "and have no great objection to the company, I am about to return to the estate.
no subject
What exactly was he supposed to say to that? Bruce finds himself floundering for a moment, entirely unsure. No would be the straightest answer, probably, but Amsel rings in his mind again and he can't--he just can't let it go so easily. A coincidence, he tries to tell himself, but--
Amsel.
("You'll regret this, Ballard."
"I'll regret more for not trying."}
"--sure," he finally manages out before he can make himself take it back. "I was just here taking a break, anyway."
no subject
"Very well, then. Let us be on our way."
It sounds too rigid, too disciplined, to sound entirely friendly, even if there is more softness in it than before.