faderift | Player Plot: My Father's Eyes

Entry tags:

Player Plot: My Father's Eyes

WHO: Christine Delacroix, Korrin Ataash, Sam Gareth, James Norrington (+ NPC Templars), Bruce ~~Banner~~, Ingrid Kief, Aleron Darton, Church
WHAT: The group is off to stop Red Templars and visit the Empress's soldiers.
WHEN: IC it's August 30 for the main event, add a few days of padding for travel time to and from.
WHERE: southeast Orlais, not many days out from Skyhold at a front in the War of the Lions
NOTES: Violence and mention of injuries. OOC post is here for reference.

Starters in comments below!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He smiles when she doesn't even question taking his hand while they're on separate horses going to medieval fantasy Gettysburg. "Like I'm gonna want to invest in some lotion for some parts of me I never thought about putting lotion on if I wanna put in the time and effort to really learn this stuff. Hey, I could try riding sidesaddle like a dainty princess."

He won't try it now because he'll absolutely fall off the horse and die of embarrassment, but he makes the suggestion hoping to get a laugh out of her, or a smile, or anything other than the worry peeking through her carefully crafted neutrality. "This is something you need to do, because the not knowing's gonna be worse than the knowing, no matter what happens. So I'm glad you're out here."

"Ah, I do not think that would suit you," she answers, a hint of a smile peeking through because the image is amusing to her. "Not unless you wear a dress." See? She can find her humor. It's just not coming easily.

"A good point. As much as I dread bad news, I need to face it, if that is what awaits me. And... I am glad you are out here too. Though now I must keep an eye on you and your new sword skills."

"Okay, but if I wear a dress and don't ride sidesaddle, my lotion needs are gonna just go through the roof. I might need someone with delicate fingers to rub my thighs down." Eh? Eh? He will bring smiles out as much as he can.

"Hey, are you questioning my sword skills?" Good, because she should. "I'm here for you. And, yeah, stopping this awful red lyrium shit going around, that's pretty priority, but we'll find out about dear old dad and settle that once and for all. Family's important like that." Presumably. He wouldn't know much about family by blood.

She sighs and gives him a look. Really, Church. "I do know this very hairy dwarf with surprisingly delicate fingers. I am sure he would be happy to comply." No, he wouldn't.

"What of your own family?" she asks. Here he is so far from home, and he hasn't really said anything about them. Perhaps he doesn't have one.

"Awww, you're the worst." No, he's the worst, therefore he deserves it.

"My family? I mean, uh... I mean it's--I dunno, it's kind of complicated." For reasons he probably shouldn't get into. Oh, sure, he 'remembers' having parents, and probably all kinds of innocuous bits of the Director's history that he's taken and cobbled together and filled in the blanks as his own, buuuut... "When you're in a war zone and shit, the guys around you kinda more become family, y'know?"

This isn't even a question. Church is the worst, and yet for some reason she tolerates him. No one said she has the best taste in men.

Her expression softens, fingers squeezing his hand in sympathy. Whatever these complicated matters are, she won't pry into them.

"Of course. Will you tell me of them? The soldiers you served alongside?" Not his family by blood, but the family he gained.

You slept with him, Chris. You don't ever get to criticize anyone's taste in men ever.

Normally when he talks about his fellow Blues (much less the Reds), he's usually hypercritical. And he means it in the fondest, if most aggravating way. But...he misses those wacky bastards, kind of. He'd spent over a year alone, and even if Washington showing up with Caboose in tow was horrible and fucking obnoxious, it was also relieving.

Fuck, why are emotions so complicated? Fuck them.

"We were mostly camped out in a canyon, did I tell you that part? It was pretty boring, not frontlines shit. And we were supposed to be fighting these guys on the other end of the canyon. And we mostly tried, but...we got to the point where we didn't see why anymore, especially once weird shit really started going down. Anyway, so, there was my CO who recruited me and Tucker. Flowers, his name was. Real eccentric type (I say as if we weren't all fucking eccentric). Good guy, pretty happy, occasionally loopy, really loved bonding with the team. He, uh, died in a totally unrelated incident that probably involved eitherrr a heart attack or a severe allergic reaction to medicine meant to help prevent heart attacks." Haha sure does depend which version of the story is the real one, huh.

"So that happened, and I took over as leader, not because I was really ranked any higher, but because I called dibs on it and decided I was the natural leader, and Tucker bitched and mostly let it happen, but we were down a person. And Tucker's a...uhhhhh he wouldn't fit in here, probably, except like...with Zevran maybe. I mean, he's a real womanizer, and honestly I think he stopped giving a fuck about what was going on even before I did. Real lover not a fighter type. Ended up with a mystical glowing sword and a kid that's really really complicated," he already explained it to Cosima who probably actually semi understands he is not going to go into that here gdi, "kind of part of an alien prophecy, it's not important. Now, I'm definitely the voice of reason in the group, but if we had, like, a secondary voice of reason, it's Tucker."

So, there was no voice of reason at all in the Blue Team, is what he's basically saying.

"And then we got in the rookie, Caboose. He is...he is something else, and not in a good way. He's about as bright as a sack of bricks after you take a sledgehammer to them, and then added a few kittens and puppies into the bag, I guess? He's so clueless and happy that way. He's convinced we're best friends. We're not, by the way, so if a big dummy comes falling through a rift ass backwards and says we're besties, don't believe him, and also keep an eye on him in case things explode around him."

She's slept with Church and Asher. Clearly she likes men with no brain-to-mouth filter. Why does she do this to herself? Why?

Christine listens to his description of his teammates. She expected there to be more of them, honestly, but she does like that he gives more than a vague description. As he talks, Christine's horse drifts away and she's forced to release his hand, but she's still listening carefully, face expressing surprise at some points.

She wonders if they will find soldiers who feel similarly about their enemy when they reach the front, or if they will still be passionate about their cause. She wonders what her father thinks of the fighting. He is no longer a young man, after all.

"Would you like it if they came tumbling in through a rift? You would finally have people who understand all you reference, and who would be on the same footing as you." It can't be easy to end up in a world where you don't have your standard weapon or anything else familiar.

Awwww, hand.

"God no. I've run into a couple other Rifters here who I'm mostly on the up and up with as far as understanding culture and some technology, so that's been great honestly. But to have my asshole teammates drop in? I wouldn't really wish it on them. No offense," he adds quickly. "I mean I'm getting used to being here, but it's a super culture and lack-of-technology shock."

Plus, at least he's kind of sort of dead. The others are probably alive. They should be. So they've got important shit they have to pretend to do. "And then you've got all the other assholes in my life. We kiiiind of sort of got reinforcements in the form of the sister of one of the guys on the other side, but she's super ditzy and, uh, slutty? And really doesn't belong on the battlefield. God, and this one guy, he shoved his way into our lives from another unit, highly elite, it's really complicated, and he's a fucked up jackass. I mean...he's seen shit that can't be unseen, and he let it and things like revenge and shit cloud himself up. And then there's everyone on the other team! What a bunch of jackasses. It's always red versus blue, me against you, but we can work together if we've got a unifying cause."

Her hand will still be there later for holding purposes.

"It is all right. I have often wondered what it would be like if our places were reversed and I fell through a rift to one of these other worlds. I would not fare well, I think."

The way Church speaks, it's easy to see that the group he's surrounded by at home frustrates him. Perhaps it's in that familial way, where you put up with them because something deep down connects you.

Or maybe they really are just a bunch of assholes.

"Then... would you return home, if the way was found? I mean, if the way was voluntary, would you leave here and go back to them?"

Both. It's both. But, haha, getting actual affection to come out of his mouth about the Reds and Blues???

"Ye--" He stops before he finishes the word, realizing that the reflex answer doesn't actually work here. His mouth clamps shut for a few long moments, his gaze distant and lingering in the space between their mounts, brow furrowed deep.

"Actually, no." He doesn't want to get into the details, obviously, not in front of people who might share Cassandra's opinion of lopping off heads, but he ought to say something. "Things weren't looking good where I was, before I ended up here. I don't know how it works, but if I go back to that moment in time, I'll probably end up dead."

He is dead, is what he wants to say, and going back will mean ceasing to exist. There won't even be a body, because there never was a body. Well, except that first one. And the robot bodies. But no...no Church. And he thinks existing is pretty awesome sometimes. (Less so other times, but the wanting to exist days outweigh the not wanting to exist days.)

Christine watches him, lips pressed tightly together. She isn't a terribly social creature, but the people she's surrounded herself with are those she's chosen to be there, for whatever reason. She knows that Church will most likely not have a say in returning home. If a rift brought him here, then perhaps a rift will appear and drag him through back home. But if he has a choice... well, it lightens her heart to hear he'd stay.

"Then I hope you can stay," she says quietly. "I know this world is so different, and coming in during a war cannot be easy, but if it looks as though you might die if you return, then I would rather you stay."

"Yeah," he says, quietly enough that maybe she doesn't hear him. It's a strange thing, to know you're living on borrowed time. He hasn't made much effort to come to grips with what he was told, what he had seen, before getting flung into Thedas, and since saying most of that out loud would probably get his head cut off, he's happy just letting it sit there, cooking, not even giving it more than a passing glance.

Oh, sure, it'll probably explode someday into tiny fragmented pieces and drive him crazy, but at least he'll be sane for a good while before that happens. Plus, denial is a huge coping mechanism he is all too happy to lean on.

"Yeah," he says louder, with a cocky grin in her direction, "I've gotta say, I really like living. There's all sorts of fun activities you can do while you're alive."

Ah, there's that grin of his. She has to admit that it's good to see. It takes her mind off the possibly terrible things she'll encounter soon enough.

"Yes, I am well aware. Enjoy life for as long as you can, yes?" It's what she's been trying to do since she left the Circle.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Player Plot: My Father's Eyes

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject