[ open ] we are a starry sky

[inuko]

WHO: Shino Inuzuka & open!
WHAT: Later catch-all for the latter half of August.
WHEN: August 15th-31stish!
WHERE: Skyhold & surroundings.
NOTES: Will update as anything comes up! Shino's an emotional idiot, I apologise ahead of time.

Formal training had always sounded like a bore when he'd had the luxury to not need it, relying on his makeshift training and Murasame's strength. Being effectively immortal had made for a certain knowing recklessness that Sosuke had taken him to task for most recently, the last time he'd died then been resurrected. It wasn't so long ago now.

He can almost hear Keno laughing from across the universe, asking what about when you said no, you didn't require any of my training? The effort he'd wanted to avoid before is an effort he makes now in joining in with drills. He did what he could to deal with the frustration and intense urges to sulk off that hit at first, but the importance in focusing on learning the means to defend himself and survive without Murasame meant he kept at it, no matter how often he ended up on the ground, or sending others down in turn. His fighting style relied far more on speed and decisiveness in his strikes than the heavier heft and hack of the broadsword, so adapting to the practice swords on Thedas was a trial.

He was going to have to find some means of getting a wooden sword more to his specifications crafted, leading to his spending time talking with the merchants coming through Skyhold investigating possible avenues forward. Discussing the specifics of a wooden kendo sword was leading to poor sketches on his part, and discussions on the worth behind a weapon that didn't fit the standard for 'proper' warfare against heavier armours.

He retreated to the library to study what he could on creatures and demons and spirits, finding it easier to choose them as a focus when what little he understands about Corypheus indicates he's some sort of tie toward both those and the Blight. Reading by natural light and candle light was enough of a strain when he'd grown used to being spoiled by electricity that toward the late afternoons and early evenings, he could be found trying to work on (hard to recognise) sketches of a wooden kendo sword or inadvertently sleeping off the headache he'd given himself.

In his opinion, one of the few comforts of civilization (albeit a civilized castle and little else outside of its immediate economy) was found down in the lower levels with the hot-spring fed baths and a chance to soak out the aches and pains around whatever company inevitably seemed to be around. "Not quite like home... but better than nothing, I guess." He was too tired and turning into a boneless human being to be able to summon up the energy for the proper sulk that might have felt nice, given the situation.

Evenings were a toss-up of talking with the people who were part of the inquisition, letting his unfeigned ignorance lead him into conversations within the attached encampment around communal firepits, or in the more enclosed environment of the tavern. He was a good listener, and avidly curious; how much was genuine interest or him embracing his fervent need to know was a matter left up to debate. He certainly stayed ready enough with a smile and laugh, or the open eyed, total focal interest that made it seem like he cared very much to hear whatever he was being told.

Understanding what it meant to deal with the shard in his palm was more difficult for not knowing precisely who to ask, or what he should be asking. Murasame had been another presence to fight against and work with; he was capable of speaking, and the pains and thirsts and appetites they each had were a dialog. Uncurling his fingers to examine his open palm, Shino breathed out in an annoyed sigh. "This can start making more sense any time now."