Entry tags:
OPEN | We're all told to dance but we never pick the tune
WHO: Nathaniel Howe and YOU
WHAT: Open log
WHEN: Wintermarch and Guardian
WHERE: The Kestrel House & Camp Shady
NOTES: Reading aloud of bad smutty romance novel.
WHAT: Open log
WHEN: Wintermarch and Guardian
WHERE: The Kestrel House & Camp Shady
NOTES: Reading aloud of bad smutty romance novel.
Camp Shady
It's proper winter, which is aggravating the crap out of Nathaniel's rheumatism. On good days, he can practice with weapons. On bad days, he is wrapped up in layers of blankets and writing or drawing with a grimace on his face. Every day he reads reports from Warden scouts, scouring the world for signs of the Architect. Most leads become dead ends.
The Kestrel House
On one truly abysmal day, Nathaniel doesn't get out of bed. Every movement creates agony. He stays in the barracks wing with curtains drawn around the bed he and Anders share, sometimes rolling out to make tea at the fire. He is very pale to anyone who sees him, but makes no sound or complaint.
Closed to Anders
At the end of one of the bad days, Anders arrives back at the Kestrel House to find Nathaniel inside, working on a drawing. He glances up and gestures for him to come closer.
"I've something to show you."

no subject
[mr brightside intensifies]
their cage and they've been doing just fineof the undercity."Mate." The 'oi' is implied. "Mate, the fuck are you?"
The nug peers up with those endless black eyes that you should not stare into because you will be lost, they are fathomless, they have witnessed such terrible things in such a short life already. But please look as the dwarf gets up, a short dwarf even by dwarf standards, as Kirkwall as they come.
"Are you the representative of the Warden crafters guild? You the contact?"
no subject
Nathaniel's face barely changes. He lifts his chin a bit and keeps glowering. Saying anything now would be interrupting a certain natural order. Maybe the Little Shit will explain without being held up by his ankles.
no subject
Shifty buggers.
"Do you," he tries because no one can say he doesn't try, "speak." Even throws in a mime with both hands but they look more pincer-y than anything. "Parsley voos Orlesian?"
(By the way his Orlesian is shit and got dragged through the Kirkwall gutter.)