faderift | [ OPEN ] Take a Break

WHO: Adelaide & The Healers of the Inquisition & friends
WHAT: Informal gathering, refreshments offered.
WHEN: nowish
WHERE: Skyhold, Orlesian Healing Tents
NOTES: Drinking, swearing, bitching about troublesome patients, etc. Announcement post here

It has been a difficult few months for the Inquisition- terrible battles, dangerous missions, strange illnesses. The Healers are well overdue a moment of semi-organized rest and relaxation. Much as she had before on behalf of the mages nearly a year ago, Adelaide takes the time to arrange for said respite. The Orlesian healing tents have been cleared of the potions, bandages, and poultices in favor of chairs, cushions, and braziers. Lanterns and the odd throw of fur or knit wool warm the space. Having more time to settle in and become established- there is more room, more places to sit, more tables propped up for holding glasses and mugs. The space is open, warm, and inviting with an elegant assortment of copper mugs and porcelain cups set around flat side tables arranged with an assortment of teas, honey, and small pots of cubed sugar and carafes of cream bribed from the kitchen. To one side there are bottles of wine and a small keg or two of ale and mead, tankards and glasses waiting. There are dried fruits and hard cheeses, dried meat and hard crusted bread, butter and sausage and a few odd baked tarts here and there. Across the entrance to the tents there is a sign:

Must be a healer or a friend of a healer for entry. Unless urgent (imminent death) no patients will be taken at this time.

Tacked below was a list of rules:

NO WORKING
Tea and coffee are to the left, wine on the right, food in the center. Please keep things in their proper place.
Don't hog the wine
Don't hog the tea
Don't hog the coffee
Don't hog the food
Serve yourself and whoever else is waiting for a glass
If you finish a bottle open a new one, don't recork it for someone else to find
Brew a fresh pot of coffee or tea when you finish what is available
Clean up after yourselves

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh yes, you are very much the boss, Ponce. Doesn't mean he'll make it easy for you. He lazily swatted at the dog in a lazy way, giving him something to focus on for a moment.

Yes, very clearly a lie. But this is a party, and he's not blind. He sees and hears the cues that say not to press deeper, not now. So be it - he didn't have much right to pry anyways.

"I've been good. Much better since I've been able to take regular baths again," he gave a little laugh. "And the company is much improved."

"Oh? That is a very good thing about returning to Skyhold. You never need to go a day without feeling clean and refreshed." She watches the dog play with Jim for a moment before smiling.

"Any company in particular? Sam, perhaps? He is your roommate, no?" Sam went with Christine to face the Red Templars, find her father, and tell her mother the awful news. He's dear to her and she makes it a point to know things about him.

Just how many people knew about him and Sam? It wasn't actually a secret, but it was not the first thing he usually said either. He would say he roomed with him, and he could be openly affectionate when they were together. Eh, he supposed it was natural people would come to those conclusions. He did like him, after all.

He let himself smile as he continued to bat at Ponce. "Yeah, that's right, he's my roommate. Heh, and you're not wrong, I do greatly enjoy his company."

To be fair, Christine doesn't know about him and Sam. She knows exactly what she's said: they're roommates.

"Sam is one of my favorite people. I tease him mercilessly and he does the same back. He is Fereldan, you see. I must make a mockery of him for being a dog lord." And here she sighs, leaning forward to wrap her arms around her legs.

"Only now he knows I had Ponce forced upon me, and that joke is not going to work on Sam anymore. I am the one who currently has a dog; not him."

Kirk blinked, and then began to laugh. He grinned brightly at her and shook his head in amusement.

"Well, if it helps, we did have those kittens forced on us, so I suppose you can now tease him about being the lord of cats instead of dogs," he offered her.

She hums out an amused sound, her spirits lifting. "I could try that. Though I do wonder: are your cats as badly behaved as Ponce? If not, I think Sam will still have an advantage over me."

"They're cats. 'Behaving' isn't a word that is used to describe them, ever. I take it as a lifetime achievement that I got them to learn to wear the leashes outdoors," he heaved a sigh.

"Leashes!" she exclaims. "This one has already broken one. And I cannot see how. He weighs almost nothing." But yes, he actually was so hyper he pulled, yanked, and struggled against his leash until it snapped. Someone who doesn't like Orlesians might point out that it was shoddy Orlesian craftsmanship, made for show instead of strength, but it had seemed strong enough to Christine right up until it snapped.

Kirk looked down at the little dog doubtfully. He looked like he could barely push over a dandelion, much less snap a leash.

"If you want, I can make you one like I use for the cats. It's made from durable leather, and they're twisty and bite at it all the time and it's done just fine. It has a little harness too, so it'll be harder for him to slip out," he offered.

Never underestimate the power of a hyperactive dog and shoddy Orlesian craftsmanship.

Christine's eyes light up and a smile spreads across her face.

"I would be so grateful to you if you would. He is hard to handle and a better leash would help."

"Absolutely. It takes a couple of weeks to make - I have to find the right amount of leather and Such around my usual tasks, and I'll need to get this little guy's measurements so it fits snug enough." He swiped at the dog again, gently of course.

"You can come by the smithy tomorrow and I'll get them then and start work," he offered.

He hoped she didn't expect anything as fine as Orelesian craftsmanship though. The cats were durable and simple. He was no great craftsman, after all, but he could put together strips of leather and copy simple stitches shown to him by one of the merchants he ran errands for.

"I would not wish for it to take precedence over anything else you need to do," she answers with a dip of her head. Ponce lets out a bark and hops forward to attack Jim, though he's too short to do much.

"I will bring him there to be measured, then?" It doesn't matter to her what it looks like, as long as it works. Being Orlesian may come with certain expectations, but also being a mage means she's had a very different upbringing from the elite. She may make fun of Fereldans because that's just standard behavior, but she never turns up her nose at the practical.

It's all right, Ponce, you keep dreaming big, little guy.

"Yeah, absolutely. If you come by the evening, it's easier to catch me," he suggested. "Shouldn't take more than a few minutes if he cooperates with me."

"Merci. I will be sure to do so." And then this little terror will be restrained and stop attacking people. Well, "attacking" people. It's all play for him, and he doesn't do much damage.

[ ooc: good place to wrap? ]

[ OPEN ] Take a Break

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