faderift | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

WHO: Solas and Whoever wants him
WHAT: Catch-all post for people who need Solas' advice/attention
WHEN: Covering the end of august / beginning of september, or whenever you need him
WHERE: Solas' study at the base of the Library tower
NOTES: Replies might be slow, but don't worry just hit me up and I'll get to you

At the base of the Library tower there is a large, circular room with scaffolding on one side, and murals slowly filling the walls up to it. In the center is a desk, strewn with papers, notes, and the occassional object : this is Solas' study. He is usually found here, puttering around on whatever he is working on, reading, or painting the walls into a fresh fresco.

Sometimes, you might catch him sleeping, arms folded against his chest, chin tucked in and eyes closed.

He will answer whatever questions you have, but he might not be pleased about it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Kallian lingers shyly outside the door for a little while, before she finally raps softly and enters.

"Excuse me, please... It's... Solas, yes? I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she says demurely. "I heard you are an expert of sorts on the rifts and the Fade... I... was hoping you could help me learn more about them?"

It wasn't hard to feel the strange presence of someone watching him, and it was distracting - so when Kallian finally entered, and the source of the feeling revealed, he managed to relax a little and turn to give her a warm, if compact, smile.

"Solas, yes. And I am happy to help. Please, come in, and take a seat."

"Thank you."

Obediently, she sits down in the nearest chair. She shies a little bit away from his gaze. Something about those eyes... they just seem to know things... She wonders if he can sense her magic, or even her connection with Hope.

"My name is Kallian. I'm one of the healers here. I have friends who are affected by the shards and the rifts. I'd like to be able to do more to help them..."

If he can sense anything about her, he doesn't let on - instead reaching across his desk to pour them both a cup of (slightly cold) tea.

"Aneth ara, Kallian. It is good to meet you. And of course, I will help in any way that I am able, though I should warn you that it is not the easiest course. There is much we don't know about the shards."

The greeting surprises her.

"I--oh. Um. Abelas. I... didn't realize you were Dalish..." she stammers, quietly accepting the tea.

His warning just makes her shrug.
"Thank you. And it's fine. Very little in my life has ever been easy. I don't expect this would be any different. But I do want to learn. Very much. Whatever I can."

"I'm not," He says simply, still smiling. "The language existed long before the Dalish - they may be the current keepers of it, however misguidedly."

"I surmise that means that you have questions."

"Misguidedly...?" She blinks. "I'm... not sure what you mean by that. But yes. I have... many questions."

She taps her lip thoughtfully.
"I'm... not sure where to begin. The Fade, the rifts, and the shards... they're all connected, I'm nearly certain. Do you know why? Or how?"

"In a manner of speaking. It is a simple concept, when boiled down. The rifts are the doors, the fade is the room beyond, and the anchor is - was - the key. Now it is shattered into many keys, but the metaphor, I think, still holds. Of course they are connected, they are all inherently the same thing."

She nods.

"And the rifts... the doors... They go both ways, don't they? Spirits can come out, but so too could people go in? I think that's what happened a few months back..." She shivers a little at those memories.

"Tell me more about this anchor. The shards. Do they actually have substance? I remember examining them and I couldn't get any kind of hold on them. There was nothing I could take out. And if they are bits of Fade, could a mage's abilities affect them, and how?"

"Yes." It shouldn't have been possible, with the anchor in so many pieces. But it was.

"The easiest way to think of them is bits of the Fade, yes. They are attached more to the spirit, than to the body. Magic can effect them, but it is a complicated magic, and I've been unable, thus far, to teach others. Perhaps it requires the magic wielder to be far more in touch with the fade."

The idea made her breath catch, and she felt the surge of Hope, that familiar, electric sensation down her nerves and in her veins, the light of the spirit brightening her eyes.

"Could you teach me? And even if I am not yet ready to handle the shards, then teach me the ways of the Fade. Please. I want to know. As a healer, treating the body is one thing, but it's not everything. Minds, hearts, spirits... they all intertwine. We all have a line to the Fade. If I could understand it better, there's so much more I could do."

It's a sunny and unusually warm afternoon, which spurs even Sina, who normally wouldn't even leave the garden if it were on fire, to seek the relief of the substantially cooler Keep. The chilly stone is a balm to her bare feet, and she can't help but feel mild amusement at the irony of being too warm for once. Normally, retaining body heat is like trying to hold water with her hands.

She has her herb basket with her as she delicately enters the great round room, her eyes wide and peering around in a deer-like awe at the climbing murals. It's almost too long of a moment before she realizes she's being rude, and she quickly looks to Solas with an earnest smile. "Aneth ara, Solas," she says breathily, "I hope I'm not disturbing you. I thought perhaps we could share some refreshment?"

Edited 2016-08-31 23:24 (UTC)

"Andaran atish’an," Solas replied, warmly, giving her an honest, welcoming smile. He was up on the scaffolding, painting yet another dark figure with a bright green hand - save one he'd painted before, with a glowing green light in her chest.

"I would find refreshment very welcoming, I admit. Please, come in." He carefully set his painting tools aside, wiped his hand on his apron (yes, he was wearing an apron) and climbed back down the scaffolding.

Sina has hideous gardening gloves that she wears because she doesn't want to damage her new pretty ones, she's not about to judge anyone else's apparel choices.

She sets the basket on the table and busies herself removing its contents: nothing too exciting, just a few seed cakes and one of her favorite herbal tea blends. She also brought a little metal pot for brewing it in, clearly something she's had since she left home based on its level of wear and the visibly Dalish etchings around the lid.

"You painted all these?" she asks, her eyes roving over the murals once again as she situates the snacks.

"Yes," he replies simply, seemingly pleased by her interest as he walked toward her. "I find it helps to coalesce my thoughts."

He looked over her carefully once he was close enough, and smiled when he saw the tea and cakes. "How are you feeling?"

"Well enough," Sina answered with a sheepish smile. She wasn't the sort to go on about her problems, but she also wasn't a liar. To suggest that she didn't have an ulterior motive in talking to Solas would be dishonest, but she had no intention of doing so.
"But... I don't want to think about the shard right now." A little smile played onto her lips. "I've heard that you walk the Fade. And that you know a great deal about the Elvhenan." She lowered her gaze as she sank into a seat, having laid out the refreshments on the small table. "I suppose I... hoped you might share some of it with me." Her smile broadened, but remained tentative. "If it wouldn't trouble you."

He reached out to take the cup - eyes closing as he breathed the scent in deep. Good tea. For once. His smile revealed just how grateful he was of that fact. As she continued, the smile remained - eyes softening slightly as he took a sip.

"It would not trouble me at all. I wish more expressed a desire to learn about the Fade, rather than just extol on their fears. I have seen many wondrous things, and witnessed many wondrous events, some thousands of years after they have passed out of living memory. What would you like to know?"

Her gaze was pinned wistfully on Solas, the spirit in her eyes seeming to swell as he spoke. "What were they like," Sina asked first, "the People long gone, the old ways." Her brow knit imploringly. "How much have we lost? And... what have we kept? Why can't we remember--" She cut herself off with a shake of her head and a sheepish smile. "Abelas," she said quietly, "I'm bombarding you."

Jamie's known for ages that Solas is likely going to be his best chance to try and understand the green glowing mark that's wound up embedded in his hand - but between one thing and another, it's not until the first of the Inquisition troops start coming back from Halamshiral that Jamie finds the time to seek him out. It's the middle of the afternoon by the time he finally stops by the study, and it doesn't occur to him that he might be coming by at a bad time.

At least he realizes it's polite to knock first, which he does...about two seconds before opening the door and sticking his head inside anyway. It probably winds up defeating the whole purpose of knocking in the first place, but there's times where his impulsive nature gets the best of him. He'll just have to apologize for it later on, if it's a problem.

"Hello? I'm looking for Solas, if he's about."

Solas was bent over his desk, scribbling away, but looked up at the knock and the subsequent intrusion with a polite smile.

"You have found him," he replied, setting aside his notes and standing. "How may I be of help to you?"

The polite smile goes a fair way towards convincing him that things are alright, at least for the moment, and he steps into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Aye, well, I've been told you're the person who knows the most about these shards we've wound up with. I, ah, had some questions I was hoping you'd might be able to answer, if that's alright."

"Of course," Solas replied, offering a smile, and gesturing to a chair.

"Please, have a seat. Tea?"

"Ah, thank you very much."

As he settled into the offered chair, he glanced around the room, his brows furrowing slightly as he took in the frescos on the walls. But at the question, he turned back, giving Solas an enthusiastic nod.

"And yes, please. Tea sounds grand."

He fell silent for a few moments, allowing time for Solas to gather whatever was needed, but once that was done he took a breath and settled into his seat.

"Right, then, about the shards. Have...have you ever heard of the shards, um, well, changing, I suppose? After someone's wound up with one, that is."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(no subject)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

HEY HI LET'S TALK ABOUT HOW COOL AND GREAT ELVES ARE

THEY ARE PRETTY GREAT EXCEPT WHEN THEY ARE THE WORST

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject