faderift | For all of the light that I snuffed out [OPEN]

Entry tags:

For all of the light that I snuffed out [OPEN]

WHO: Raylan Gibbs and idk some dude (you, it's you)
WHAT: catch-all and open stuff
WHEN: The rest of Kingsway, a bit of Harvestmere
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Will probably contain discussions of this plot

drop of rum on my tongue; tavern
For a few days after returning from Fromage, Raylan could be found in the Herald's Rest in the evenings, instead of the dungeon. He knew he ought to get back to work, he knew he ought to get his shit together, but every time he sat down with a book, he just saw that small body again. It didn't help that he wasn't sleeping much.

So he climbed the stairs and found a table tucked into a corner where he wouldn't be spotted or bothered by most, a glass and cheap bottle on the table in front of him. It was quieter than the downstairs too, letting him drink in peace.

the blood on my hands scares me to death; night
When he did resume the research, Raylan was finding that he was hitting a wall: the veil was not well-studied, and he was coming to the point where he'd read everything on it that was available to him. So he took to taking walks at night, to clear his head. It was interesting to see Skyhold mostly quiet and still, although there was always some activity. By the time the last people were staggering to bed from the Herald's Rest, the bakers were already up and the kitchen was bustling. Raylan could be found on the ramparts, bundled against the cold, or wandering the courtyard. He even did some whittling if the mood struck him.

i'll be a better man today; teaching
Raylan had expected to want to avoid children for awhile, but his students turned out to be a comfort. That poor boy had suffered, but here were ten more like him, as bubbly and rambunctious as ever. One bright day he had them in the garden, studying the various healing herbs and writing short little reports on them. One by one or in twos and threes, they would run up to him, hand him a piece of parchment, and then he'd dismiss them to run off to whatever they did when not in lessons. Raylan was frankly a little grateful that he only had to worry about them for a few hours every day.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Araceli has never been one to do all her sleeping at once, and since returning from the ill-fated trip to seal rifts that saw their group taken by the Venatori, sleep hasn't come easily. She's better than she was, less of a state thanks to Pel dealing with her hair for her, and Lux scampers ahead when she slips out into the night and up the steps.

It's not the sea, but it's dark enough that it'll do.

"Buenas noches," she greets softly, wrapped up in one of Asher's bear pelts against the cold, left arm still tucked close to her since the cold makes it stiff, makes the pain worse. "If you don't want company, we can leave you in peace. I couldn't sleep, I thought maybe you might be the same."

Edited 2016-09-17 21:22 (UTC)

"Not at all," he said, gesturing to the space next to him. He was sitting on the edge with his feet dangling, looking down into the courtyard. He didn't have a pelt like hers, but he wore a thick quilted coat that nearly reached his knees when he stood. He'd spent his life in a rainy southern region and then a drafty tower; he didn't need too much to stand up to an early fall evening.

Once Areceli had joined him, he pointed out two people standing near an opposite wall and gesticulating. Voices carried, but not well enough to make out words. "Been tryin' to figure out what they're fightin' about."

By the time she reaches him, her leg is cramping, still pulling tight but she's made it. Of course she'd find something that manages to hurt worse than getting shot, that sounds just like her. Perhaps back home her mother has finally found a grey hair while she sits at her dresser putting on her face, but that's not a happy thought for this hour so she tucks it away.

"Do you know if they're scouts, soldiers, or neither? Because I might know if it's either of the first two." Glancing over, she might recognise one of them perhaps but after everything she's still a little wary of her own memory in places as she looks up at Raylan with a hint of a smile. "I usually gamble with most of them in the tavern. They're a gossipy bunch."

Raylan tilted his head, thinking about it. "Don't know for sure..." he mused, squinting. "Look like scouts to me, though." There was a quality to their movements that suggested fight experience, but they didn't look like templars or soldiers. "What are you thinkin'?" he asked. "Arguing over tactics, or somethin' a little more fun?" He gave her a sly, sideways smile, hoping to coax more of one out of her.

"This hour? If it's tactics I'll eat this dead bear." Asher would approve, don't worry. Or she thinks, Korrin would probably know but Korrin likely needs breathing space from Araceli too. "One might've lost money to the other since that seems to be one of the principal pastime of scouts," she murmurs, rising up on her good leg to peer at them a little better because normally she would know.

And she tuts, pouting sullenly when she sinks back down and looks at him. "I hate being out of the loop. One of them might've requested Sera Was Never seventeen times in a row, but then someone might be over the battlements by now. Unless we're about to have a show."

(The Herald's Rest is the Salt and Pepper diner.)

Raylan chuckled. "I'm never in the loop," he said amicably. "Don't much care to be. Can't hardly keep track when I try. I was hopin' for some kinda lovers' spat, though," he admitted. "Those are fun." And also just tended to be where his mind went, but he wasn't inclined to point that out.

"No? Ah, you should come! I haven't been in so long now, the healers 'oh Miss Bonaventura you cannot, you must rest' as if sitting and playing cards and drinking is so very tiring, but it's fun. We laugh, we joke, you learn something new. I've been teaching so many of the games from home." If she could bounce, she would bounce. But since one leg is barely holding her up she'd just fall over and look pathetic, and she has no desire to do so.

Those last three words? Well they get a little laugh out of her and a knowing sort of smile. "It could be too, all that time alone together? All the tension? I've been the cause of plenty before I ever came here. Just with more duels."

Raylan chuckled, sitting back and propped on his hands. "So where's home?" he asked, looking away from the spat and to his new companion. She worded it like she was a rifter, but she looked and sounded like any Antivan or Rivaini he'd ever met. There had been one or two of those in the circle, and he'd met a few more since the rebellion.

"Castileos. Which is somewhere. A long, long, long way away." Through a rift, possibly right through the ocean though now that she knows people physically went into the Fade, she can't be quite sure just how far away home would be. The thought of asking is impossible since no one would know, and the answer is upsetting to think about. "On some missions I say I'm Antivan, since my language is so close to it that I can pass, but with a dash of Rivaini for good measure." After all, Rivaini loves the sea more than anyone else.

"And you? I...cannot place your accent. I was getting good at that too, at least for a few places, forgive me, it's a habit." She smiles, waving her good hand in apology should it be needed. She's nosy sometimes, likes being able to place details about people and places together better the way she'd normally be able to.

Raylan understood her, and nodded in sympathy. "Must be hard," he said. He had his own complicated feelings on concepts like home, but it seemed like she'd been happy in hers. He couldn't imagine being taken so far away from a place that made him happy, to a place as foreign and unstable as Thedas must seem to a rifter.

"Ferelden," he supplied, with a little smile. "Crestwood, specifically. Little farm town, you probably ain't heard of it." He was a hick, in other words, his accent thicker and rougher and harsher than most.

"It'll be a year next month." Which isn't an answer, not exactly. Sidestepping around it as neatly as she can manage at present which is not nearly so polished as she might like. That's another little thing to consider, or something her mind will probably feed on.

Better to think about other things. Like if she's heard that one before, face screwing up in thought. "I'd say I'd look for it on the map in my quarters, but my memory is still coming and going. Do you miss it? Up here, all this snow everywhere. Mountains. Mountains and mountains and mountains."

(There are better views, she...she talked about that to someone a while back. Near the battlements maybe. It's not quite all there.)

Rachette sometimes likes the peace of the gardens. There are always so many people, but they tend to keep to themselves, or keep calm and quiet. There isn't anything about it that makes her think of home; home was dark and grey and brown. This place is full of colors. She hasn't traveled all that far, so any plants that aren't native to Ferelden, or at least to the Frostback region, are completely new to her. She still isn't entirely convinced that there's no such thing as plant magic.

But there are so many kids around, and she steps up on tiptoe to peer over some pesky plants to see what the small (literally) ruckus is about. Perches on a pot and watches with a little concentration look on her face. When the children seem to be through with handing in papers, she finally approaches. "I didn't realize there were that many kids in Skyhold. I guess it's as safe as anywhere else."

Raylan looked up at the woman joining him, and recognized her as the dwarf from his kitchen expedition. He was looking considerably healthier now -- better color in his cheeks, still thin and lanky but more filled out than he had been. Muscle had appeared where it had been absent, and the gauntness to his cheeks was gone. All things that hadn't been noticeable at the time, but were now that he was looking better.

He greeted her with a smile, and picked up a stack of papers so she could sit if she wanted. "Most of them are mages," he told her. "Mostly, refugee kids are staying with their parents, families moving around and going where they go. Mage children don't have much of anywhere, without the circle, especially if their parents are non-mages or passed on. So a lot of them are getting sent to us."

He does look like he doesn't need any more rotten fruit chucked at his head, it's true. She only barely glances at the papers and sits cross-legged and wide beside him. "We aren't really a babysitting service." ~~Says someone who's gonna kidnap a 3yo princeling.~~ "But it beats them sitting out in the cold getting stabbed by Templars. Are you trying to teach them some plant magic? Like gardening, or potion and poultice making, or alchemy." Look at those words, isn't she so smart.

"It beats them havin' to fend for themselves in the world, and ending up killed or possessed," Raylan said, giving her a pointed glance. There were a lot of reasons not to let mage children run around untrained, and the Inquisition, as a peacekeeping force, had a vested interest in that.

"Today wasn't so advanced as all that," Raylan said, picking up another piece of parchment. "Today, I teach 'em about plants that can heal. What they do with that learning in the future will be up to them." Presumably, someone else later would teach them the alchemy shit, but that had never really been Raylan's thing.

Surfacers and their magic are weird, okay? What with their religious hangups and ability to throw ice and potential for possession and other shit.

"Do you teach them just about plants, or are you just a general mage...teacher?" She turns a little more towards him and, elbows on knees, props her chin in her hands. "Do the other adult mages get a turn to put some knowledge in their heads?"

"The others get their turn, aye. There's a few of us," he explained. "I mostly work on basic skills. The chantry does what they can, but a lot of kids from poor families are barely able to read when they get here, so I catch 'em up on that. Once that's done we start on other basics, like how to cast a spell without blowin' shit up." Controlling one's magic is not intuitive for many mages, but there are basic techniques that children can learn to help.

Thoughtful thinky face is thoughtful and thinky. "So...when mages get sent to circles, which are basically towers that are a living space and school together," she starts carefully, "they get taught things like reading and writing, as well as how to control their magic?" It's all very new to her, even in the midst of mage vs templar things.

It occurred to Raylan suddenly that, as a dwarf, Rachette had no reason to know anything about magic or Circles. "Aye, that's the first things they teach you if you're not already good at them. I was all right at both, and already older than most new arrivals, so I got to skip that and go straight to preparing for my Harrowing. I was nineteen when I went to the Circle, most go somewhere between six and twelve."

Magic be weird yo. A harrowing--Harrowing, proper name--she's gathered is kind of like a test all mages are supposed to go through to make sure they don't...get infested with demons in them? Or something. Something that says 'okay we trust you with your innate abilities you've been learning since childhood even though you're still gonna live in a tower the rest of your life'. Or something. (Andrastians also be weird.)

"Why were you already a man by the time you went?"

Raylan shrugged. "I was never uncontrolled, the way some mages are. Some mages can hardly lift a finger without throwing lightning in someone's face, but I only had it happen once or twice, and mostly it was stuff that could be written off as a fluke. Finally my aunt decided it was too much of a risk and called in the templars. We didn't have any in the town, no one was lookin' for mages in a place like that." Raylan had grown up in a shitty little farm town, poverty-stricken and hardly worth a damn.

"So a mage only goes to a circle to get trained if they can't control their powers, so a lot of kids can't, so they get sent young, but some people can, and it's just paranoia about abominations that make older people go?" #mageworldproblems

"Well, it's not just paranoia," Raylan said. "Even the most controlled of us ain't ever really safe. It's more like this:" he said, setting aside the papers in his hands so he could gesture as he talked. "Mages get sent to circles as kids to have their magic contained, both in the form of teaching them and of keeping them in one place. Once a mage has proven they're not deliberately ignorant or incapable of control, by passing their Harrowing, they're a lot more trusted and can't be made Tranquil. But any mage has the possibility of becoming possessed or turning to blood magic at any time, which is why supervision is still important."

Edited 2016-09-17 21:26 (UTC)

"But you could've just kept on living at home without going to a circle if your family didn't get antsy about your abilities and maybe possible possession," she muses. "Did you have to learn about your magic there, or at home? Did it just come naturally to you? And Tranquil, that's...oh! Those weird people who speak in monotone, they're called Tranquil. They're mages?" She'll keep asking All The Questions if you let her, Raylan.

Raylan didn't mind questions. He'd rather people hear from him, a somewhat reliable source, than get it from rumors and conjecture. "They're mages, yeah. They've had their connection to the Fade severed. I know that's no big deal to you, but humans and elves aren't built that way, so it takes their emotions and dreams with it. But, it takes their magic and means demons can't get to them. Sometimes that's an acceptable trade-off.

"I could have stayed at home, sure, but everyone around me would have been at risk. An abomination can take out an entire village in minutes, if it's strong and motivated enough. An apostate is risking the lives of everyone around them. I figured out a little about my magic on my own, but there was no one to teach me where I came from, my parents weren't mages. A circle was my only hope for learning, as it is for a lot of mages."

Yeah, that seems fair enough, provided someone going into it understood what was happening and agreed to it or something. Dreams, whatever, dreams she's only had a bare brush of, it was weird, but emotions are kind of important. Would it be weird to live without them, or would weirdness not even register?

"Your parents weren't mages, so does being mage-y just pop up at random, or did it skip your parents?"

"No one's really sure how it works, but it did seem to have popped up randomly in me," Raylan said. "Mages are more likely to have mage kids than not, but lots of mage kids come from people with no magic in the family. Actually, circle mages don't have children, so most mages come from parents who aren't mages, but have had mages elsewhere in the family."

"They don't have kids? Is it because people don't really like mages and don't want to risk having more of them, or is there a greater risk to it?" She guesses those might be okay reasons, but still. "Wait, if there technically aren't circles now, then circle mages could have kids if they wanted, right?"

"It's...well, attachment makes you more vulnerable to demons. Parent and child is the strongest attachment there is. People will resist temptation for themselves, but give in in a heartbeat if it's for their children."

That hadn't actually occurred to Raylan before. "That's...well, the risks are still the same. But I suppose we could." He looked a little perplexed -- himself with children. He'd never thought about that before.

"I'm probably too old for that now," he said, playing it off with a squinty-eyed smile so he didn't have to think about it.

Her face continues to be squintily thoughtful and thinky! Get used to this face from smol illiterate dwarf from the underground. "You don't look that old." But what does she know about human ages? "You probably could, if you wanted to. You seem like you're wary enough of demons that if one popped up and, I don't know, threatened someone you loved, you'd probably just burn it to a crisp instead of letting it take over. You're smarter than that."

"You'd think," Raylan agreed. "But you can't know until you're in that situation, until it's happening." He shook his head, looking down. "Others can do what they like, I suppose, but I ain't gonna open up that possibility."

The cheap bottle on the table hadn't find unnoticed by everyone in the Herald's Rest. After a while, a full bottle of Antivan brandy gets plunked down on the table by a buxom pirate.

"Trust me when I say this is a lot better than that swill," Isabela said, loitering idly nearby.

Raylan looked around, and briefly forgot what he was doing. A stupid look crossed his face as he took a second to let his brain reboot, clearly struck dumb by the presence of pretty girl.

He recovered, though, and managed to look up at her face. "That so?" he asked. "Bet it ain't cheaper, though." Raylan didn't want to waste money when the cheap firewater would get him drunk just as fast.

"You're right. But I'm not asking you to pay for it. Not directly, anyway. The way I figure it, if I can get enough people into the decent stuff that they insist the Inquisition offer it, I won't have to keep having it brought in special by my crews," she replied.

She glanced over the table.
"Just trying to drown yourself in distraction?"

"Somethin' like that," he agreed. "Not directly, huh?" He gave her a smirk and a waggle of the eyebrows, although his heart wasn't quite in it. It was just sort of a reflex, a thing he did in response to a pretty woman in the vicinity. Also, it was much easier to flirt than to dwell on his problems.

Kaisa is, as a rule, not particularly good at handling negative feelings. Maybe it's because she hates the way that they make her feel. Weak, not in control. She's not really much better at negative feelings in other people. But she's a loyal friend, and she counts Raylan in that list of friends. So when she spots him climbing the stairs and tucking himself away, she knows that she has to do something. At least make the attempt.

So she grabs a bottle of rum, something a bit nicer than what he got, but still strong enough to peel paint, and follows on after him. Without bothering to ask if she's wanted, because she's always wanted, what's wrong with you, she plops down across the table from him. She at least has the decency to slide the bottle over to him as a peace offering, before promptly ruining it by opening her mouth.

"You look like shit."

That at least put a little smile on Raylan's face. He picked up the bottle, looking at the label to see what it was. He at least approved that it was strong, so he cracked the seal on it to try it.

"And you," he said finally, "are a vision this evening. How do you do, my lovely Kaisa?"

He was maybe sort of making fun of her, just biting back a little at that dig. He'd rather banter than tell her about that child. About how he'd had to try to kill it, and how it was even worse that it hadn't worked, that he'd been in pain and fear and anger for minutes while they tried their hardest to kill a chiid.

"I'm a vision every evening," She replies, like anyone with manners does when complimented. "You just don't get a viewing for each one." She's more than happy to toss banter around, especially if it helps. She knows the haunted look of someone trying to forget something. She saw it in all the Wardens for months, saw it in the mirror, while that song haunted her. Not even getting into Herc, then Asher.

"I'm doing great. I got plenty of alcohol, plenty of pretty people to look at, plenty of people to fight, pretty and otherwise. Oh, our griffins are just about big as my dog, now. Still can't ride 'em, obviously, but they're getting there." Maybe one day soon. Then she'd be a Warden like the ones of legend. And look fucking sweet.

Raylan nodded. He honestly couldn't remember if he'd known anything about griffins before this moment, but he was willing to accept it. He didn't have the mental energy that skepticism would require.

"And who exactly have you been fightin'?" he asked. Mostly it was a prompt to keep her rambling. Raylan didn't much care one way or the other, but listening to her talk was pleasant and didn't require anything from him.

"Not real fighting, here. In Skyhold." She gestures around her, as she settles in. Raylan's on the mark about her willingness to talk, Kaisa could probably just out talk the darkspawn if it were an option. She swipes the bottle, pours herself a glass, and slides it on back to him, getting herself comfortable.

"It's mostly just training, showing some of the green-ass recruits how it's done. I try not t' get into real fights in Skyhold, 'cause the Wardens are already on thin ice, and most people don't want to fuck with me anyway. When all the bullshit about Anders came out, though, hoo boy. I had this one excitable little elf fellow straight up from Kirkwall that had a bee in his bonnet. Gave him one punch, figured he deserved it. Then he kept going, and I'm like, this guy is like three pounds, I can't fight him without being a right asshole about it, yanno? I ended up just knocking him down and sitting on him until he calmed down."

Raylan snorted, although there'd been a visible flicker on his face when Anders was mentioned. He decided to try and skate past that, focusing on the elf. "Now that's an image to enjoy. You should feel free to sit on me anytime, though I imagine it'll turn out a little different," he said with a smirk. Sex jokes were definitely the way to take focus off his issues, right?

"I imagine it'd be a lot more fun with you." Kaisa replied, grinning wickedly. If she noticed the flicker of emotion when Anders was mentioned, she doesn't comment on it. But then, she knew how a lot of people felt about him. Andraste's ass, she had a pretty good picture of it, by now.

"But I don't got to do it to you to keep you from getting hurt trying to fight me. I figured, shit, this kid ain't even a fighter, and he's an elf, so, he's all skinny and tiny. Who's gonna look like an asshole if he gets his ass busted? Me, that's who." She knocks back her glass, and sighs, shaking her head.

"Anyway. I don't usually get in real fights here. And the other Wardens will usually step in if it looks like trouble is brewing. You met Teren? Don't fuck around in front of her, she has legendary skills at grabbing your ear and twisting it. Could've been a Chantry sister."

"I have, briefly," he said. "Fortunately I was a couple dozen feet out of her reach." He'd been sitting up on the battlements as she came over the bridge into Skyhold. She'd called out, he'd called back. "Reminds me of a lady I knew in the circle," he said with a smile. "When I first got there I was real sulky, reluctant to do shit, so she dragged me around by the ear more'n once."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

For all of the light that I snuffed out [OPEN]

night;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

teaching

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Tavern

no subject

no subject

no subject

tavern

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject