faderift | there ain't language for the things i've seen

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there ain't language for the things i've seen

WHO: Alan + Kain, Medicine Seller, Thingol, Bruce, Jaime + OTA
WHAT: Gotta catch 'em all
WHEN: Post-Winter Palace
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: N/A

Starters in comments. If we agreed to do something and I missed you, just let me know on Plurk or Discord (oeste #8807). :)

If you'd like a specific starter, or if anything needs altering, please feel free to hit me up. If we have a Winter Palace Pt. II thread going, I'd like to finish those off first!

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The question surprises Cade slightly-- it's not that he hasn't answered it before, he just hasn't thought about it in a while.
He regards Alan with mild suspicion while he rubs the back of his neck, then sighs and figures it can't hurt to answer. "I came here with the Knight-Commander of another company," he replies, keeping it vague.

There's that look again. The horsemeat look.

"Did they —" A gesture. Order? What's the right parlance? Oh. Oh duh. "— Command you to come here, then?"

That has to be a neutral question, right? All these uniform types, they seem to like following.

Cade seems confused by the question, and shakes his head mildly. "I came with him," he repeats. "My, um. My men were all gone." Another topic probably best left alone, based on how his eyes flit away and back, contemplating a potential exit strategy.

"Well, it's."

Where did they go, is what he's trying very hard not to ask right now. Why did they leave?

"Got to be easier, not being here alone."

He can feel the question coming, and Cade is... quite relieved, actually, when he can almost physically perceive Alan sidestepping it. "It is," he agrees, fairly quickly at that. Not that it's entirely true. The other Templars don't appreciate his company much, but he gets by.
He hesitates after answering, and wonders if he shouldn't keep walking. But this conversation isn't so bad, he's had worse. Even if the guy did try to feed him horsemeat once.

In a move of pure unbridled optimism, Alan shifts aside to free half the bench.

"No one's alone in the Maker," Even if He's turned His face from them, He's all around them still. "But there's something more of Him in people. It makes it easier,"

The crook of a smile,

"Until it doesn't. Sometimes it shines too much for me."

This is unprecedented. Cade has almost given up on finding anyone as devout as he is at Skyhold-- at least who's worth talking to-- and suddenly Alan has something that finds its way directly to his heart. Perhaps it's silly, but words like this are the ones he needs most desperately to hear.

Hesitantly, he comes to perch on the bench next to Alan, sighing lightly once he's able to take the weight off his injured leg. "How can it shine too much?" he asks.

"Everyone has their own piece of fire, reflected of Him."

A glance down to his hands, considering. He hasn't even thought of how Cade's leg must be aching, and that really only proves the point, how hard it is to remember the whole of someone.

"A will. A purpose. The ability to love, or to hate. But it's like looking at a room full of candles. If you look all at once, you see the light, and not the wicks. And if you get too close, they might burn."

"And if you just stay back," He pauses, finishes a little lamely. "Well, it's cold."

Simile of the year.

Edited 2017-02-20 07:21 (UTC)

Cade nods. He still isn't quite sure he's parsing what Alan is saying, but he gets the basic gist of it, and finds it comforting to be in the presence of someone who thinks about these things.
"We wear Hessarian's sword to remember his penance," he says quietly, referring to the Templars, "but I see so little of it. And now, with the temple gone..." He purses his lips a moment. "It's difficult to forget. The journey he made. It couldn't have been for nothing, could it?"

For an organization founded by believers, the Inquisition's most vocal are often far from its most faithful. Some days it seems that everyone he knows sees the matter as a peculiar curiousity, or else an invention intended towards power. Cade's brand of religion may be misled by the Chantry, but Alan can still appreciate the intent, the opportunity for talk without raising hackles.

"Was it nothing to him?" A small, sideways smile. "Nothing to the Maker? The temple was only ever a temple."

Nothing and less, eaten by time, beside those that raised it, inherited it. Even those that stole it.

"The belief that built it lives on. The believers do." Andraste will show herself again, with time and with faith. She will come again, and she will be recognized — he knows this like he knows the sun will rise tomorrow. "Hessarian lived in dark times, times he helped to make. But by turning from his old path, he brought them light."

Don't ask how any of this works into the candles.

Edited 2017-02-23 01:59 (UTC)

Cade shakes his head. It wasn't nothing to any of them, and it still isn't.
"Do you think he approves of what we're doing?" he asks, keeping his voice low, as though the Maker might here. "Of all this?" Andraste's Herald was killed, after all. One would think to take some meaning from that.

"Corypheus keeps slaves. Poisons minds, lands, and bodies." He rubs a thumb over his bandaged hand, like a worry stone. "To stand against it is... We have to try and change that. We just do."

He knows it's not easy. Is a little ashamed, really, at how long he let it go. Alan considers how to put this. It's not a matter of Cade's feelings so much as his own — there are few areas of his faith which invite doubt, but,

"Even if He didn't ask it of us, if He didn't see, it'd be what's right." His fingers withdraw, reach up to tap once above his heart. "And He does ask us, in the Chant. And He still sees us, in each other."

His face is turned. Theirs needn't be.

Another nod of agreement. This horsemeat guy, he's not so bad. He gets it.
Cade doesn't speak again for the moment, instead just angling his head to look at Alan for several seconds, taking a measure of him. Unexpectedly, he's now happy with what he sees: finally, an ally, someone who takes the Chant as seriously as he does.

"...you should've been a Templar," he says with a little smirk. mage what mage

"I think," Gently. He doesn't want to upset Cade, not when he's finally seemed to settle a little. He'd no idea that the man could even smile. Surely he'll be used to mages, to have managed this long in Skyhold, but he doesn't strike Alan as the type to enjoy surprises. He'd thought Cade had already realized. If this isn't something he advertises, neither is it anything that he much bothers to hide. "There'd be some practical issues."

His opinions on the Chantry (and the body mass of a miniature scarecrow) aside. He watches Cade carefully, for any sign of a reaction.

Although there's no actual offense, Cade's smile does dwindle, and he looks a bit ashamed. He's coming on too strong!! Just as he always feared! He is unlikable and wrong and an idiot and wow Alan's response was really so gentle, this is why Cade has maybe One Full Friend if you squint.

"Sorry," he says quickly, hunching his shoulders. Attempt to bond retracted, redirecting...

"Don't be." Alan offers a shallow smile back. "It means a lot to you, doesn't it? It means a lot then to me, that you'd think of it."

Even as a joke. It's just:

"I'm a mage."

it's not you baby, it's me

Almost, the conversation is salvaged. And then, more quickly, it's ruined. The air between them seems to chill, and Cade looks away with a frown. He debates leaving, but at least has the presence of mind to understand that he won't be able to get away quickly, and there will no doubt be an awkward conversation if he does.
So he just... stays. And is suddenly closed off, as though they not only weren't speaking a moment ago, but he's not even aware that Alan is beside him.

Oh, no. He’s managed to mess this up again, somehow —

"You know," He offers, leaning out over his knees. "You were the first Templar I’d ever met."

Not true, precisely, but the other one was a long time ago. Alan doesn’t like to think of it. It doesn’t count.

"But I’m glad that I did."

is that helping?? will that help??

Edited 2017-03-03 06:27 (UTC)

Tragically, it.... kind of does.
Cade has met an assortment of mages, from the ones in the Circle he used to guard, to all the billions of apostates in Skyhold, and... well, maybe they're not all so bad. Even if they're living outside the law and putting every single person at risk and also could become horrible monsters at literally any second.
But Alan seems okay, and he just said something nice, and Cade isn't in any position to turn down a nice thing being said. It's so novel to him that he actually goes a little pink, still looking concerned.

".....really?"

"Yes." Why's he pink? Is this a camouflage thing? There's nothing else pink around. Maybe it's some sort of rash? "You're trying."

Heady praise indeed.

"And you listen. That's more than many ever do. It matters — it makes other people feel as though they do."

Edited 2017-03-03 06:44 (UTC)

It's the rash of those allergic to attention.
"Oh." He calms slightly, but still doesn't smile again. "...other people do matter."

"Yes. But it — doesn't always feel as though you do, does it?"

You're a People Too, Cade. Alan fumbles for the words, struggles to jam them into a shape that doesn't sound — self-pitying, perhaps. Dramatic. It's a fact that he's trying to state, not a confession. Another piece he's jammed into the puzzle of humanity, and if he says it aloud, perhaps he can sand the edges to fit.

"I don't, at least."

Well, Alan's got him there. Cade purses his lips and shrugs furtively. "No. I mean. ....yes." Is does feel as though he... doesn't. Or doesn't... that he does...
His face goes momentarily blank as he tries to puzzle out what he actually meant to say, but then Alan speaks again.
"....matter?" he guesses. That seems like a weird thing to say based on what was just said, but Cade has never claimed to be a competent conversationalist.

"Feel as though I do," He supplies. "But we all matter. We need to remind each other of that."

"....I suppose." Cade is at an awkward point in the conversation, knowing better than to trust a mage, yet... really wanting to trust him. He nods mildly and purses his lips, glancing furtively at Alan out of his periphery. This requires some strategizing. Or just... more mental power than he feels he has, to sort out how to behave and what to think.

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