Player Plot: I will call you home

[arlathvhen]

WHO: Beleth, Cyril, Merrick, and Ellana Ashara, Thranduil, Sina Dahlasanor, Metaari, Sam Gareth, Kallian Endris, Alistair and Ruby i think??? whoever wants to go
WHAT: Keeping Up With The Asharas, the reality tv show
WHEN: Backdatedish, around mid-kingsway
WHERE: The Heartlands of Orlais
NOTES: OOC post

Tel'enfenim, da'len Irassal ma ghilas Ma garas mir renan Ara ma'athlan vhenas Ara ma'athlan vhenas	Never fear, little one, Wherever you shall go. Follow my voice-- I will call you home. I will call you home.

Clan Ashara currently resides in a small valley nestled into the mountains, that seems idyllic for a Dalish clan. A stream runs through the valley, descending into a waterfall with the steep cliffs on one side, and sheer mountain walls going straight up on two other sides. The only way in and out is through a gap big enough to lead several aravels through. It's a defensible position, safe from any threats. Except the fade rift that has opened up just a little ways from the gap. The hunters can handle the demons spewing from it well enough, and there are always a couple stationed there to pick off whatever appears. But it's too dangerous to lead the aravels and noncombatants through, and thus, they are forced to wait. To compound the issue, there's a village close to where they're currently staying, and while both sides have kept to themselves, neither are pleased with the current situation. They've helped get a message to the Inquisition in hopes that someone will come take care of the problem, and now both are tensely waiting for something to happen to change the situation, for better or worse. And so the members of Clan Ashara, with their friends in tow, return back to their clan.

Comments

[writteninblood]

"Creators..."

That is a definite sigh. You just had to say the w-word, didn't you, Cyril? All the wind is gone out of Sorrel's sails, yet again, and he is reminded, despite their easy friendship, why he sometimes didn't like Cyril all that much.

It was easy to forget that why, wasn't it? He was beautiful, fun, funny, open and honest, and witty, and... and everything Sorrel wasn't. Fuck, he was jealous; acknowledging the feeling might not make it easier to bear, but it made it miles easier to hide.

"Well, thanks, Cyril," He's trying for sardonic, and is pleasantly surprised at how successfully he manages it, "That's really great. Actually, now I do want to drink, and do you even know how much of a hell my life will be if I get drunk and spoil the whole..."

He flaps a hand, gesturing vaguely, as if to indicate the dignity of the moment, or the import of the Inquisition, or possibly just the reputation of the clan. The Keeper would murder him.

"You really know how to brighten a guy's day."

[samahl]

Cyril sighs then and feels like completely crap. It's not Sorrel's fault he's been brooding on certain things lately. He knows how terribly this conversation has gone and for a second he wants to apologize. He just gets the feeling that that will make everything worse.

So instead he says something that he's certain he never would have had the balls to say before he left.

"Fuck her." The statement is said so bluntly and plainly that it lays out that they both know who they're talking about. "Fuck the idea that you have to be perfect just because we're here. There were literal demons raining down on us from a tear in the sky. The Herald lost her life to seal it and now the Clan is threatened by the Rifts it left behind. This may be the last time you see me, Ellana, Merrick, or even your sister again. Once this thing is sealed and the Clan protected, you deserve some fun."

[writteninblood]

For a moment, he's so relieved, thinking Cyril is going to apologize and then Sorrel can pass it off as nothing, and they can go on as they always have, as they always do. But then, something shifts, like wind in the trees, and Sorrel sees the fight enter Cyril right between his eyebrows, clear as sunlight.

And his heart sinks. He can't help but stare; no one's spoken like that about the Keeper, not ever, not that he's known. Keeper Deheune is so very well respected, so careful in her ways, so sure to always be right, provably right, that...

Well he stares at Cyril for a good half-minute, even after he's finished speaking, that's all.

He should say no.

He should laugh it off.

He should absolutely not encourage any of this.

He should deck Cyril right here and now, just for suggesting that Beleth might not come back to him. For planting the idea that he will be alone, he will always be alone, and even the one person who really loves him, will go away, or die.

He should at least tell Cyril not to talk like that about the Keeper, if nothing else.

Instead, Sorrel stares, and after a moment says, "Okay. Okay, well fuck it. After the rift is closed, if you've got anything worth drinking, let's drink."

[samahl]

Cyril grins once he agrees and moves a little closer to him. "Good," he says, pleased. "I knew you were as smart as you look." The compliment is sincere and everything about Cyril's expression shows that sincerity.

"For now, I should go coordinate with the Hunters who have been watching the Rift. I will hold you to the drinking though." He might even get drunk with him, if this went well.