(open) we're living in the currents you create

[ichaer]

WHO: Ciri; open + a few closed threads
WHAT: A general catch-all log for the later half of the month + early half of next month. It follows the aftermath of three hideous missions.
WHEN: From late-Kingsway into early-Harvestmere.
WHERE: Skyhold, various
NOTES: Possible talks or inner dialogue about rather gruesome events, torture and injuries.

✖ camp shady

There is a part of Ciri that is glad to be back in this silly little camp. It has been a long month of traveling and she cannot hide the tiredness in her form nor the marks each mission has left on her. Only the wounds received from the wolf have not healed as easily though compared to the others. Magic has largely been unable to help the process along but she does not mind the bites the creature left behind even if it leaves her left arm weakly tucked at her side more often than not as she makes rounds around camp to check in with those she knows.

What she has not missed a dirty sleeping space. Gone for so long has allowed dust to build up while bed sheets are covered in dirt from the nights she would just come in and fall asleep without changing. Throughout the day she can be found moving stuff out, washing sheets and clearing away dust. There is a new addition to the space she shares with Inessa in the form of colorful drawing that were clearly done in a child's hand.

This also means a bath for certain mabari that she shares space with because if everything is getting a good wash down then so is the dog. Of course, it isn't going quite as planned. Garahel doesn't like baths and he is certainly showing just how much that rings true. Ciri is more of wrestling him into the large bath she has set up outside, trying to give into the mournful looks or fall over onto the ground. She does eventually fall over but it is straight into the bath with Garahel who happily licks her face as she sits there soaking wet and covered in suds.

✖ training

Despite the injuries lingering on her left arm it does not stop her from her normal training routine. She does avoid the battlements for now instead balancing atop fence posts near the stables to practice her balance, sword routines and flips. These missions put her against enemies that she normally did not face in the field and she cannot be unprepared for them again if this were to become the norm now with the Inquisition. Abominations, creatures made from the dead and infused with magic. That wasn't even counting for those infected by red lyrium -- the Templars, Wardens and possibly darkspawn now.

Outside of her normal sword routine then she is jogging up and down the many staircases of Skyhold while happily making sure to avoid those that might just be trying to make it back to their rooms and not using a giant fortress as a running course.

✖ healing tents

With some wounds unable to heal with magic, it means trip to the healing tents every so often to get her bandages changed and new medicines applied. She knows the very basics of first aid and thus leaves it to the professionals. That doesn't mean Ciri likes it though and she spends most of her time in the tents frowning and squirming in her chair. She nevertheless shows up every day to make sure that her arm received the needed treatments and had not developed any sort of infection.

Today is no different as she sits, squirming ever so slightly but letting the healer do their work for her arm. "Looking any better?" She cannot help but ask because although it looks better to her it does not mean it looks the same for someone that actually knew what they were doing.

✖ library

The library is not a usual hunting ground for Ciri but recent events have driven her here to search through the numerous tomes the Inquisition has gathered. Although she has not spoken of the events that occurred in Emprise du Lion it does not mean she has forgotten them nor the promise she made with Nessa to destroy those that allowed it to happen. She believes a piece to understanding would be understanding the bodies that had been found down there, mutilated and missing certain organs.

This is what leads her to finding an empty spot, surrounded by anatomy books and sketches from her memory of the bodies found in that cave. Hopefully there would be some sort of answer to be found somewhere among the books.

✖ wildcard

For literally anything else not listed here! Feel free to hit me up at kaldwin or through PM if you'd like for me to set something up.

Comments

inessa — nightmares

[ichaer]

Tonight isn't any different from any other night.

Ciri's sleep is restless, she tosses and turns only ever managing to drift for an hour at a time. Usually her dreams are the same fare that she has endured since becoming a Grey Warden but they've gone vivid with familiar faces since Weisshaupt and Emprise du Lion. She could swear sometime she wakes up still feeling the heat of those fires against her skin. It leaves her breathless, wide awake and restless. More often than not she just leaves to train until she's too exhausted to stay awake but tonight she remains in bed staring forward until her focus shifts to her friend nearby.

"Nessa?" Her voice is quiet just in case the other young woman is sleeping. "Are you awake?"

[circleprodigy]

Inessa is curled up in on herself, her body covered in a thin sheen of sweat as she begins hyperventilating in her sleep. Garahel, curled up at her feet, stretches and stirs a little in his sleep, nudging her none too gently. That, coupled with the quiet voice is enough to waken her with a sharp gasp, tangling herself in her covers further. That's probably the only thing preventing her from flailing around and hurting herself in a fit of panicked confusion.

[ichaer]

It only takes a second before Ciri is up, hurrying over and kneeling beside where Inessa sleeps. Carefully, not wanting to scare her more, she reaches out and grabs at one of her hands that hasn't gotten tangled up in the sheets with a squeeze.

"It's okay now, Nessa. It's only me."

[circleprodigy]

It takes a few moments before that voice sinks in pass Inessa's nightmarish haze, and a moment more for her to recognize it. The tension in her body doesn't leave, though, not until her unseeing gaze focuses, her elven eyes taking in the darkened area and realizing it's not as she thought.

"We're...this isn't the cave...?" Her brow furrows as she holds onto that hand, moving to sit up.

[ichaer]

Ciri tries to smile a little, tries to offer something positive to help Inessa in the aftermath of her dream. It's all she can do besides keeping a hold on her hand, moving to sit on the edge of the bed as her friend moves to sit up and gently shake her head.

"No, we're not there anymore. You had a bad dream, well... I guess we both did."

nate — sparring

[ichaer]

After two days of rest, Ciri is utterly restless. Admittedly it would be good for her to continue resting and make sure that the stitching holding some of the worst areas of her arm together remain in place but laying around is just so terribly boring. It's why she's out here now is one of Skyhold's designated training areas with literally the first person that crossed her path on the way out of camp.

Besides there was a lot to learn from the other Wardens and it was always good to learn how others performed in battle. No point in getting out in the field and being unprepared for what your companion is capable of.

Idly, she twirls her sword in one hand not unlike a baton. Her other arm has been removed from its sling but she makes no motions to use it currently. It isn't ideal but this isn't a bad learning experience for her either even if she'd rather not be going through it at all. Warmed up, she turns to face Nate with a grin.

"Ready when you are!"

avery + inessa — denerim

[ichaer]

market

[ichaer]

The last time Ciri had set foot in Denerim had been in the midst of a battle against a horde of darkspawn and the archdemon. There had seemed to be no need to the fires or the corpses as the streets ran red and black from the blood. She had been eleven at the time, alone and only wanting to survive after losing her grandmother. At the time she had no clue how she could possibly do it alone but knew it meant leaving the only home she ever knew.

The city has rebuilt in these eleven years but she can still see it as it had been when she was a child. If she continues walking toward where the royal palace sits, Ciri knows she will reach the district that housed the nobles of the city and their grand estates. Her old home is up there somewhere but she makes no motion to leave the market and instead glances around, scrunching her nose with a grin to her companions.

"At least the smell around here hasn't changed."

[circleprodigy]

"...no, no it has not." Inessa shakes her head. "I barely remember Denerim, but I recognize it well enough." Garahel doesn't seem to have a problem with it, cheerful as he inspects everything they pass. So many people! And so many of them stop to pet him, too, especially the children. Inessa allows it with an indulgent smile, though she has to be a good dog mom and prevent them from giving Garahel treats she know will make his stomach ache later. He whines at that, of course.

[thecookery]

"Aye, the smell of home. Sweat and piss and--" Avery pauses to sniff. "--ah. Roasted chicken. Must be a vendor nearby."

She glances around for it for a moment but gives up quickly. There'll be plenty of time for that and plenty of choices. It's only been a couple of years for Avery since she was last here, and she has a pretty good idea of how to get around still. She even recognizes one or two of the people they pass. Not anyone she socialized with, mind you. She's never been known to do a lot of that. But definitely at least one shop-worker she'd bought from pretty regularly a few years back.

The Alienage

[circleprodigy]

Inessa is at the entrance, glancing at the various official notices nearby as she slowly walks forward. Bearing arms is strictly prohibited: Elves who have swords will die upon them. Others are much the same, enforcing a curfew or restricting elven access in some way, shape or form. Her eyes quickly slide away, not needing to see the rest. She was expecting them, so there's no angry surprise on her part, no ranting. That isn't to say they're welcomed, though, and her lips tighten a little as she passes.

Besides, there are things that bother her more than signs. Outside the alienage, one could scarcely tell that the a great battle had taken place throughout the city a decade ago. Repairs had long-since been made, life has moved on, the capital bouncing back from its lowest point. Not so the alienage; even now, over a decade after, the area is obviously lagging behind, its buildings little more than shacks having fallen into disrepair. The air of hopelessness and resentment hasn't really seemed to have changed much from Inessa's scant memories.

She notices the eyes following her, of course. An elf, with a staff and fine armor, with a mabari at her side, how can they not? There aren't any sparks of recognition and Inessa doesn't expect them. She was a sickly four-year-old when taken, after all. Perhaps she should have worn something else, but Inessa still felt safer garbed as a Grey Warden throughout Denerim than not. It's her shield against harassment and she knows it. But it's obvious that, past ties or not, she doesn't really belong here anymore.

The elven woman doesn't stop until she reaches the vhenadahl, the massive tree at the center. A small smile graces her lips for the first time since entering and she rests her hand upon it, staring upward. "It's smaller than I remember...."

[ichaer]

It's a surprise to Ciri that she hasn't been thrown a punch yet given the ever sour expression that appears whenever these official notices appear along their path or someone gaze (mostly of anger or disgust) lingers too long on Inessa.

The Alienage itself is not so different but they are of different looks. Wonderment? Perhaps envy or resentment but it was ultimately hard to tell as she did let her own looks linger for long. She might be ready for a fight but she is certainly in no mood to be the cause of one. For now, she follows a few steps behind Inessa as she wanders through the muddy streets of ram-shack houses and tents.

A part of her wonders if anyone here had been among those that worked for her family all that time ago but the thought is pushed aside as soon as it appears. There would no one happy to see the noble child raised in the hands of a strict woman that had been her grandmother even if that child ceased to exist a decade prior.

She stops with Inessa, peering up at the vhenadahl with a curious expression but stays back as her friend approaches the tree. "A used to go to market with a woman that worked in my grandmother's house, she always liked to tell me stories about it and I always wanted to see it. It's good that the darkspawn did not burn it down with the rest of the city."

[thecookery]

"No point burning wood that doesn't have people in, I guess," Avery says quietly next to Ciri, scratching an itch on her cheek and feeling very uncomfortable.

As much as she might have opinions on the state of things here, this is no place for her and it never has been. And that point can only be more apparent today than ever, as people openly gawk and the irony is not lost on her that they are two humans obediently following an elf around wherever she leads them here.

(Also not lost: the fact that she probably looks like some shabby tour guide or a shit squire next to these two Wardens in their distinctive armor and fancy weapons and staves and their wardog. But that's whatever.)

Bernard's Bakery

[thecookery]

Or so the sign above the door reads, though who this Bernard fellow might be is probably a bit of mystery given Avery's description of the business as being run just by her and her mother.

It's a humble place in one of the lower districts of the city, but the building seems well taken care of and the product must be too given the number of people that look to be inside at the moment. Not to mention the delicious smell of fresh bread that overpowers the scent of the city as they get close to the door.

Before they go in though, Avery stops and turns to face Ciri and Inessa. Her expression is serious and her fist clenches a couple of times reflexively as she says, "Before we go in there, I just want to be sure you two are ready for this."

[ichaer]

"Well I was until you asked me that."

Honestly, Ciri cannot help glancing to Nessa before her eyes fix back on Avery with the look of someone that has a million and one questions. She doesn't ask them, thankfully but she does come to rest her hands on her hips with a little smile.

"Which is to say: Yes, I am ready for this unless your mother is hiding a giant wolf in there."

[circleprodigy]

Humble or not, it's far better than anything that can be found in the alienage. The scent of fresh bread is heavenly and Inessa's thankfully that her stomach doesn't growl right then and there. She can see why it attracts the amount of people it does, since anything fresh in the poorer areas is a novelty. Garahel seems to approve as well, the mabari lifting his nose to sniff at the air and wagging his tail a little.

Turning her attention away from the scent, Inessa nods at Avery, matching that serious expression. She won't make light of returning home, not when revisiting a half-remembered alienage meant a great deal to her. Ciri and Avery were both present for that, and she wouldn't think to be any less supportive. She glance over to Ciri with a shrug, figuring that they'll get answers soon enough. "I am, if you are. If you need another moment, we can wait." If not, she stands ready.

noble estates

[ichaer]

The high districts of grand noble homes stands in stark contract to the woman leading the pair through the cobbled and well-maintained streets. The glances do not stop even here but with the royal palace so nearby that perhaps these nobles figure a pair of Grey Wardens to have an audience with the Queen who had wed one of their commanders following the Blight.

Ciri keeps her head down as she walks but effortlessly follows the roads she remembers so well to the place she once called home. She slows to a stop as high walls open up to reveal a large old manor home standing at center of the well-maintained grounds. It stands some three stories tall and beautifully built, settling in nicely to its space within the city despite its grand size.

Very carefully, she reaches to trace the lettering of the name plate that still remained near the gate. Llewelyn... her family's even though, as far as anyone knew, they had died out during the Blight. She makes no move to actually step onto the ground, standing rigid and listening to her heart thump loudly in her chest.

[circleprodigy]

For her part, Inessa does her best to ignore the glances. She's dealt with them all her life, for one reason or another, and now is no different. Besides, this area is one she's never gotten to see before and thus Inessa can't help but turn her curious gaze to everything else but the stares. Her father had served at one of these estates, at least for a time. That's the only way any elf would normally ever see them, as a servant.

When Ciri comes to a stop, Inessa does likewise and gestures for Garahel to do the same. Peering upward, she can't help but admire the beauty of the old manor and tried to imagine what it must have been like living in it. The closest she can come to that is the Cirle, but Kinloch Hold never had such windows. Before long, her gaze shifts to Ciri and she notes the name plate, expression softening. When she speaks, her voice is quiet and gentle. "Take your time. We don't have to enter if you're not ready, Ciri."

Garahel, heading over, rests his bulk affectionately against Ciri at that and lets out a quiet huff of agreement.

[thecookery]

Avery says nothing for the moment. Inessa's right that they don't have to do this, and the decision is entirely up to Ciri.

To her this is just another part of the city she's seen little of and is not totally excited to be in, though this time it's less that she feels she doesn't belong and more she's aware of everyone else feeling she doesn't belong. Very obviously. Frankly, it's exhausting having to sneer at every old lady she passes in the street because the bitty is so openly judging her appearance.

But she's here, because... whatever. Everybody needs a little backup sometimes, and whatever Ciri decides to do now, she'll probably be one of everybody.

Healing Tents

[justice_is_blond]

"You know, I've known five-year-olds that wiggle less." It's said with a gentle tone and accompanying smile to take any possible sting out as he comes back from the table with the next round of ointment.

"I'm sure you're used to things being dabbed on before it's wrapped by now, but as usual, this will tingle. ...And yes." Her question, any patient's question, is important. "It's taking a turn for the better, which I'm glad to see. ...Not that I expected differently, before you ask."

[ichaer]

"You'd take that back if you've ever tried putting makeup on Alistair."

It's mostly because of the stitching holding the more mangled parts of skin together that makes her squirm. She'd sooner rip them out with her teeth then admit she was ticklish but it's definitely one of the main reasons Ciri cannot sit still to save her life. The other part just comes from being touched, it wasn't something she had ever really liked and it surely hadn't died out as she grew older...

"I'll take tingling over the itchiness." She mutters but manages a grin once he confirms her thoughts about her arm's healing process. "Probably the best news I've had since they told me I wasn't going to have to cut it off."

No one said that but she was seriously worried!

[justice_is_blond]

Anders snickers at the mental image. He knows someone had to put makeup on Alistair for the performance the other day, he just hadn't stopped to think about it.

"Imagine how wiggly a five-year-old Alistair must have been. He was probably non-stop wiggle. You go to pick him up and nope, he's off." There's more fondness than any sort of mocking in his voice. He likes Alistair, but it also makes for light enough conversation as he dabs. "Unlike any limbs. I've not had to remove any limbs since I got here; I'd like to keep that the case."

Dabbing done, Anders sets aside the cloth he'd been using and picks up the bandages.

"Especially for fellow Wardens." It doesn't actually change anything, but he can say it does.

[ichaer]

Someone had to take the challenge because Alistair certainly couldn't get eyeliner on that nicely otherwise.

"They likely had to keep him strapped down least he end up clear across Thedas before dinner." Despite her attitude most of the time, she's rather fond of his dumb face too. He's one of the few reasons her beginning as a Warden was at least manageable. "It is good to know because if I had lost it then Avery likely would have killed me. Then where would be be?"

Down one Warden with pretty fly eyeliner that's where.

"Goodness knows we runaways need all the arms we can get."

library

[levered]

The anatomy books catch Clarke's eye first, while she's searching a nearby shelf, but at first it's only idle curiosity and an occasional glance, maybe a little bit of jealous concern that the girl might have the book she's looking for. It isn't until she's passing the table and gets a good look at the sketches that she's interested enough to stop and say something, with a hand extended to touch her fingertips to the tabletop within Ciri's line of sight.

"Planning a murder?"

Clarke has a sketchbook full of opened chests and organs, herself, but she rarely has it out away from the healing tents.

[ichaer]

None of this makes sense is Ciri's first thought. It's the second, third and so on too. She tries not to appear frustrated but she imagines she will just end up looking defeated instead. It's a fine line to walk and briefly she considers letting Kelpie chew on one to relieve some of the building stress.

It's such a chore that she does not even notice the approaching figure until their are fingers in her line of sight and a question being asked. A question she can only sigh tiredly before answering.

"Maker, I wish." Ciri, no. That's terrible but she looks up at Clake in a manner that screams she is utterly out of her element.