born from dark water, daughter of the rain and snow

[dashing]

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.

( 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.

Comments

[unsullies]

'Wolfstime' is an interesting word, though she goes on to mention the full moon, and the connection is easy enough. Dany nods faintly, still a little wary of the ability, but... having known Ruby for a month or so, now, she doesn't believe the woman has been waiting all this time to transform and tear out her throat.

"Does your family have the same ability?" she asks, curious.

[eviscerates]

"Kinda-sorta. My grandfather was a wolf, and he turned my grandmother, and then my mother was one, and me, but as far as I know my father wasn't. I don't... really know any family beyond that." Her smile is a little crooked, not quite veering into rueful.

"Um, there was a pack that my mother lead, but I kind of..." How to broach that topic? "Kind of am never welcome to go back to them. Ever." A little shrug, and she picks up the basket of flowers, bringing it in between them. "Favourite colour?"

[unsullies]

"Turned?" Her brow twitches downward with the question. The word has an unsettling connotation, one that makes her sound hesitant to even ask.

"... I'm sorry," Dany says finally. "This is... very personal, and I shouldn't ask so much of you. You've already been generous with your answers."

To be fair, who wouldn't want to know how and why another person could transform into a wolf? Ruby's own question brings her pause, and then:

"Red." Fire and blood. She pictures the Targaryen sigil, the colors of her House.

[eviscerates]

"It's okay. In my experience keeping secrets is a very easy way for people to get hurt." Peter. Always, Peter. Even years on, the guilt of that night would not be allayed. She has to swallow, and she's absent-mindedly separating poppies and red wildflowers from the others, fingers grazing over yellow and orange ones to complement them, putting them in a pile next to the red, but still separate. "Granny was born fully human. Bites and scratches from wolves like us will turn another person into a wolf. I don't know if that's true here, though. The magic works a little differently in Thedas."

Still, she has managed to gather a pretty sizeable amount of red flowers. "Mine too," she admits, conspiratorial. "But mine is a present for someone whose a big fans of blues and whites, so it's your lucky day."

[unsullies]

"Is it?" Dany allows herself a little laugh, warm and... somehow tentative. "I don't have many days like that."

Lucky ones, that is. She smiles at the flowers, grateful for the gesture.

"You could change a human into a wolf, then?" She wants to ask if Ruby has ever done this, intentionally or otherwise, but she keeps that second question to herself.