faderift | the dull sound of sharp math when you were alive

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the dull sound of sharp math when you were alive

WHO: Malcolm Reed OR Rachette Dakal OR Leonard Church AND you
WHAT: Belated August catch-all
WHEN: Alllllll through August
WHERE: Places! Mostly in and around Skyhold, none of them went to do fun Orlais things this month like losers
NOTES: Putting up some general locales and info in the post but it's pretty much a 'do you think you can find them in [insert location]? go hit them'

Malcolm is always a busy body who does his best to lend a hand. He's in noticeably better spirits than last month and, to those that know him, seems to have had his enthusiasm dial nudged up just a hair. Through the days, he can usually be found hanging around Cassandra's office since he is her 'Left Hand'--heading people off before they can get to her, doing some paperwork, in deep discussion with her, etc; sparring and training out with dummies, with people, or with bow targets, showing off his variety of skills with and without weapons, and also training/hanging out with his poodle Milady; nosing around the kitchens where he actually lends a hand with the actual cooking when the mood strikes him; lending a hand on various construction projects through Skyhold and in the valley below; and thumbing through a few less than strictly academic texts in the library. But he's always around somewhere.

Rachette is a little more unpredictable. Sure, she's part of the Inquisition, but she mostly does her own thing, so long as it helps herself out or seems like it's doing something for the group. She can be found honing her skills with some dummies or on various walls and surfaces for flipping around like a true rogue, or helping Zevran's rogue school with their trapping and lockpicking skills, or out in the valley and Hinterlands doing some resource gathering. During the later half of the month, she, too, is noticeably more chipper, making herself stop being a sad and angry lump about Herc, or at least pretending. Has anything gotten lost or stolen lately? She might have it...or know where to look for it.

Church is the same old asshole he always is. Are you a Rifter? He's interested in talking to you. The kitchens are a haunt of his because holy shit food is so great, he'll taste test anything they whip up, and likes trying to snag extra rolls before his knuckles get rapped with a wooden spoon. He's been working on training with his sword and actually making progress. He's hardly a front line soldier, but he's better than completely useless. Any attempts to keep training on the crossbow are...discouraged, since he keeps making no improvements at all. He likes being a nerd in the library, always doing some kind of research or another to try and understand Thedas better. Y'all are fucking wackos, man. Or maybe you've caught him sleeping somewhere. Anywhere. Maybe the stables? He's made friends with plenty of the more horse-like mounts just for napping in hay a lot.

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Ariadne had made a point of avoiding the kitchens since her strange conversation with Avery. She was still nipping food, but only off of people's plates now. What they left behind or didn't want. It was just as good, she supposed. And would be less likely to be missed.

She still felt guilty though. So one afternoon, she picked a bundle of flowers from just outside of Skyhold. Tying them up with a pretty, silk ribbon that she'd scavenged, she left them where she hoped Avery would find them.

As she turned to leave the kitchen though, she caught Malcolm's familiar scent and looked for him, finding him at work doing...

...well, something. Ariadne didn't understand cooking at all.

"My lord," she said, offering him a curtsy.

It's been a trying month for Christine. While many in the Inquistion are currently in her home country trying to establish positive relations, Christine stayed at Skyhold to watch over Asher in his final days. Then she traveled to the Avvar hold for his funeral rites, finding herself in a world wholly different from the one she's always known. She expected life to carry on as normal back at Skyhold when she returned, but instead she found a letter waiting for her from her mother. It's the first she's heard from the woman in almost fifteen years, and the news is not good.

The letter feels like a heavy weight in her pocket as she enters the stables, looking for one of the stableboys. When Christine finds him, she checks on his rash, hands him a small jar of ointment, and is set to leave when she spies two legs sticking out from a stall. Worried, she goes to investigate, but what she finds makes her sigh, crossing her arms and shifting her weight.

"Come to nap with your people, have you?"

It had been awhile since Kirk had spoken with Church - the last time had been out in the desert, hadn't it? But he hadn't forgotten about the other, especially since Church seemed just about the only Rifter here who came from a similar advanced world as he did. It had been a relief to talk to someone who understood, who didn't need every off reference explained. Not that Thedosians were stupid, but it often felt like explaining the color purple to a people who did know it.

He caught sight of him practicing and decided to meander over, having completed his own workout with his staff. "Does it feel weird? Training with a sword instead of a gun?" he asked him when the other seemed at a resting point.

"Dude." That is both a dude of surprise and a dude of man you have no idea except that you do. The practice sword is a heavy bitch despite being practice, and he sets it down with a thump. "It is massively weird. This whole getting close to dangerous demons thing is balls. I have a crossbow, but it's kind of crap."

You're kind of crap, Church. Fuck if he'll own up to it, though. "So, if I'm gonna be effective, and I'm not more magical than apparently making a pain shield from my pain laser shard, my options are getting kiiind of limited." He looks over at Kirk. "Are you learning how to run people through with swords too or...?"

"mmmmfivemoremnnts...wha?"

#letchurchnap2k16

He sits up and rubs some hay out of (or further into) his hair, grinning dopily up at her. "I'll have you know that some horses make better people than people do. Sorry, it's just...nice and cozy in here. Sometimes the body demands a rest, and who am I to argue with my body's natural rhythms?"

Look, meat needs tenderized, and it needs seasoned, and those are things he can do. Malcolm can, in fact, do a lot in a kitchen that he's never explicitly told anyone he can do. It's hardly a skill he advertises.

Still, he wasn't going to shy away from anyone poking about, and he didn't always shoo people away like some of the cooks. "My lady," he replied with a bow of his head. "Come to sniff out supper, or nip something off for yourself?" Those were usually the reasons people who weren't there to drop off supplies or actually cook did.

Ariadne's eyes got wide, like two silver coins. "Oh, no," she said emphatically, shaking her head. "I wouldn't take anything! Avery wouldn't like that."

Well, in actuality, she would take something. Except that she didn't have to. And now that she knew how horribly it upset the cooks, she was fine working on the other end of the process.

Fed by curiosity and the desire to quickly change the topic, she trotted over to where Malcolm was working. "What are you doing?" she asked.

Up on the battlements is where Araceli spends much of her time when she isn't busy studying, or doing whatever is expected of a bard student (usually filtered down from someone that's not Leliana since she's a busy woman.) If she isn't running her own lessons, well she prefers being up there to move around to get a good look at what's going on without being seen in return.

A book in her hand from Rivain, it's the sound from below that has her getting to her feet to watch for a time, hunkered on the edge before she calls down.

"You have fine form, well done!"

Mmhm, definitely wouldn't do anything of the sort. Sure, he totally believes that. "Preparing a fine slab of druffalo. This sort of cut can get tough, so you have to do a touch of tenderising. I prefer to start seasoning it as I go to get the flavours to seal inside once you start to cook it."

He smiled a little sheepishly. "I occasionally drop by to give the cooks a hand. There's more to helping and doing your duty around Skyhold than banging in a few nails and swinging swords."

"Tenderize," she repeated, staring down at the meat. The language of the kitchen, it seemed, was the only one Ariadne couldn't perfect. "Tenderize means...beating it up?"

It stood to reason, she supposed. After a good fight, she always felt somewhat...tender.

Oh! Maybe that was where it came from.

She smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry, my lord," she said. "I'm afraid I'm not all that familiar with the art of cooking. When I was a little girl, I lived in a forest and everything we ate, we ate raw. Adjusting to city life has been...a process."

Kirk had to smile at the "dude" - the universal language of men and spacefarers alike. He picked up the nuance of that word and understood completely. He had forgotten what that felt like for a moment.

"I've had just about enough of demons and I've only been here - what? Four months?" He grunted in agreement.

The question made him laugh though and he shook his head. "No, nothing like that. I've been learning the staff from Sam, and Maxwell started teaching me the bow and arrow, and I'm handy enough with a knife right now. Seems to be enough to get me through so far. I'm not sure I'd be much good with a sword."

"Besides, you look cooler with one than I do."

Rachette likes to spend some of her down time around some of the dummies, quickening her attacks, trying to aim for some of the more vital areas than just stabbing a lot and hoping being vicious is enough, as well as bouncing off the nearby walls. An attempted flip here, a quicker turn there--bulky dwarves were not made for a lot of things, but with enough determination, Chette thinks most is possible.

She's always been a rogue, but more of a brawler type than an assassin type. Zevran's teachings were being taken to heart over her time in Skyhold, and if she's more efficient, then she can protect people better.

If she looks good doing it? That's a plus.

The voice from above has her looking up from where she's dug her dagger up around where a kidney would be and, for now, leaves it there. If anyone tries to run off with her weapons, they'll see why that's a terribly bad idea. Or their bits will see, anyway. She shields her eyes and sees the figure perched up on the battlements, then gives a short wave. "Thanks!"

"Yes, more or less. The action makes the meat more tender, hence the verb." She was already starting to get it. He sprinkled on a little more seasoning, various salts and powders, and gave it a few more whacks.

"I picked up much from my mother as a boy. And after I left them for my training, I continued to learn a little more and a little more on the side, where I could. I suppose I like the...science of it. It's creative yet precise. Certain flavours go together in certain ways in certain amounts, but you have room to be artful. Unfortunately, with so many mouths to feed, there isn't much room to be artful. But if we want to feed our people, then let it at least have a little taste to it, hm?"

She listened to him in rapt and completely sincere fascination. He spoke with all of the passion of an artist. About dead meat. Humans could be such fascinating creatures. So lovely and strange.

Ariadne honestly couldn't get enough of them.

Just when she thought she had one figured out...WHAM. She'd get surprised.

And pleasantly so, in this particular instance. "It sounds like you have a secret calling, my lord," she teased him.

His smile is infectious and she finds herself giving him a slight smile in return, uncrossing her arms and moving into the stall with him. She does, of course, look out for any horse droppings that might be there amidst the hay.

"I suppose I cannot argue with that. I am not a skilled horse rider, but they are good creatures." Her gaze settles on him after checking the ground. "What has you in need of a rest, hmm? Have you been training hard?"

"So you're going for all the small, light, but effective in the right hands weapons." He glares at his fake-bitch sword. "I should've thought of that. Like, a spear or something! Deadly but not heavy and gets some range. I have to get all up in demon grills and after having a sniper rifle, I am not about that."

But then Kirk compliments him, and all is golden again. The glarescowl turns into a smirk in spaceman's direction. "Damn right I look cool, though. And these guns are gonna get all the ladies swooning soon." Flex flex.

She is so pretty when she smiles. "I haven't ridden one ever. Not ever. But they haven't minded me finding room in here for a quick nap since I got here, so clearly I'm a horse person. Or they just like chewing on my hair. Ew."

As for why he's resting, saying 'because idk, night is for losers and the weak' doesn't really cut it. "So hard." Snerk. "I'm starting to try and put some finesse into my moves. I'll be a master of the sword in no time." She'll see through him, and he won't mind.

"I have only a few times. I need to ride behind an experienced rider, or I would fall straight off." It's a little frustrating to admit that, but better she admit to it than pretend she can and end up dead when thrown off.

"Is that so?" she continues, and against her better judgment she comes to sit beside him in the hay. She will be picking this hay off of her all night; she just knows it. "I see you at least hold it the right way around." Her hand reaches for one of his, to better examine his palm, but perhaps because she wishes to hold his hand too. The loss of Asher is still fresh, and it makes her want to be close to those she... well, those she cares for. Even if Church is a buffoon at times.

"More like things I'm comfortable with," he huffed. "I just don't know that I'm really cut out for a sword. Not like like it needs to be used here." Staffs weren't necessarily a killing weapon, though you could kill with them, nor were knives. A bow was towing the line, but he needed to learn to use something sharper at some point.

Laughter burst out when the other flexed, reaching out to poke at said muscles. "I"m afraid of losing mine, honestly. They don't really have the concept of gyms and weight lifting here, yet."

Tucking the book inside her coat since really she's been up there long enough, she rises with a stretch to quickly scan for the best way down; Skyhold being Skyhold, there's only solid ground to break a fall, it isn't home where anywhere she goes she can jump then turn it into a dive. The drop isn't too far though, one where she can slide down then push off to allow herself to roll before getting to her feet, dusting herself off.

If she has to pay the horsemaster to stop removing the haystacks, she might make the investment for a simpler life.

"Araceli Bonaventura, at your service." The bow comes once she's actually back to where she wants to be, taking a quick circle around the practice dummy. "If you keep low to their legs - not that these things have decent enough attempts at legs - then an awful lot of people tend not to look down or up. That would be far too much effort, no?" Said with a smile since Araceli is more the stature of an elf than most of the human population around Skyhold.

Well, he's not about to speak passionately about live meat unless it's the art of killing it. "I would never claim to be that good. And the cooks we have, they're the ones in charge of churning out a large amount of food every day, with the ingredients they sometimes don't have, with as much taste but as quickly as they can. But I do like to do my part in the Inquisition beyond my typical duties. There are many jobs that could use a helping hand. And they let me know when there are too many hands and have no qualms about shooing me off if I'm in the way. Which is a little refreshing, I think."

Wow. She can't tell if that's showoffy or impressive. Rachette is still too new to bouncing around off of things in fluid motions instead of just kicking in the bits and stabbing a lot of places to start hopping off of battlements without a care, but it looks cool.

She places a hand on her hip, hefting her sword up on her shoulder and giving Araceli a raised eyebrow. "Yeah, I've got a lot of experience with people not looking down at me." At least in Orzammar everyone's dwarf-sized.

"I dunno, I feel like you're going for things that need more training and finesse. Swords are...I dunno, they're simple but effective." At stabbing and slicing and lopping off demon heads, etc. He doesn't have a whole lot of problem with killing things that look like aliens. People? Been there done that. War is hell etc etc etc, more like war is dumb.

"Dude. If they don't have that concept, why don't we introduce them to it? We've got assloads of lumber and heavy things to carry around, maybe someone can fashion up some weights."

"I'm the same," she admitted, folding her hands behind her back. "Lending a hand where I can, I mean."

Of course, she didn't exactly have typical duties. So that more or less was her typical duty.

She would never have dreamed of volunteering in the kitchen, though. She was a complete disaster. And, anyway, after their recent conversation, she wasn't sure that Avery would want her around.

"We've got more technologically advanced modes of transportation where I'm from. But maybe if I'm gonna go marching out and around, I should learn to ride something?" Now there's a thought. It might not really be a good thought, though.

Church is not at all going to say no to Christine holding his hand. He's happy to be the buffoon to make her smile, even if he doesn't intend to be half the time. His hands are really starting to develop in the way hands get when they've been at work, because it's been more than just standing around sometimes swinging a sword. He might not really care that much about the Inquisition technically, and he'd never admit to caring about the people, but he does what he can because this is where he's staying and really needs to not get kicked out thanks.

"Yeah, I figured out pretty quickly that you don't hold a sword by the sharp and pointy end. That's the end that goes into the bad guys."

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the dull sound of sharp math when you were alive

Malcolm - Kitchens

That asshole, Church { late August }

Space Asshole - Mid August

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rachette; honing her skills + maybe some rogue stuff?

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