Forgetting is better than flashes that aren't hers. Nothing she can really pin down as belonging to any particular person but somehow that only makes it worse, more questions that answers, all the sideways looks when it's over in the blink of an eye. Hopefully she'll forget those too the same way she did try to keep the names right in her head for as long as she could before they just got lost. Of course usually when she gets this way she runs, climbs, and home would have the ship graveyard where the smell of salt and brine sticks to her, and Skyhold has places where she can always taste something like winter in the back of her throat. But she can't, and they shut the tent all the time, shut her in until it closes tight about her.
Flexing her good hand, she sighs at it. There's a joke to be made somewhere but she's forgotten the punchline. Or maybe she's the punchline? She's told that joke before perhaps or did she just listen to it and laugh over a drink somewhere else. "I'm bad at slow," she complains, her scowl exaggerated by just having woken up. "Sometimes you have to run first but I think someone would hit me with a glyph or a spell if they thought I'd try it. Even Korrin would." What sort of a world is this, where even Korrin would turn traitor on her too, if she felt better she could be a sight more dramatic about the whole affair.
Church please explain disco sticks. So she can tell a certain old man. Before she maybe tries to get him to fence with her when they both have canes because can you imagine how great that would be, you cannot deny progress or something. "Sometimes you have to have something that just comes from the heart." And being in the healing tents all Araceli can think of are the songs everyone starts singing when they're maudlin drunk, when they start salting everything with their tears so that's just incredibly unhelpful. "Do you have shanties too? I didn't know that. Half of them are just nonsense so people don't tie themselves into the rigging. Which...people do."
Or tie other people into the rigging but that's on purpose or for a dare. Araceli Bonaventura y Castell the captain's daughter has never done that ever.
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Flexing her good hand, she sighs at it. There's a joke to be made somewhere but she's forgotten the punchline. Or maybe she's the punchline? She's told that joke before perhaps or did she just listen to it and laugh over a drink somewhere else. "I'm bad at slow," she complains, her scowl exaggerated by just having woken up. "Sometimes you have to run first but I think someone would hit me with a glyph or a spell if they thought I'd try it. Even Korrin would." What sort of a world is this, where even Korrin would turn traitor on her too, if she felt better she could be a sight more dramatic about the whole affair.
Church please explain disco sticks. So she can tell a certain old man. Before she maybe tries to get him to fence with her when they both have canes because can you imagine how great that would be, you cannot deny progress or something. "Sometimes you have to have something that just comes from the heart." And being in the healing tents all Araceli can think of are the songs everyone starts singing when they're maudlin drunk, when they start salting everything with their tears so that's just incredibly unhelpful. "Do you have shanties too? I didn't know that. Half of them are just nonsense so people don't tie themselves into the rigging. Which...people do."
Or tie other people into the rigging but that's on purpose or for a dare. Araceli Bonaventura y Castell the captain's daughter has never done that ever.