sigrun (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
roguishpast) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
faderift2017-02-12 08:08 pm
roguishpast) wrote in faderift2017-02-12 08:08 pm
open - are we there yet?
WHO: Sigrun and Kaisa, Sigrun and YOU
part a - arriving at skyhold (closed to kaisa, continuation of this)
When the outline of a person fades into view on the edges of her vision, Sigrun instinctively grasps the hilt of one of her swords, squinting through the onslaught of snow and trying to determine who or what is bounding towards her. Once the figure gets close enough to be recognizable in spite of the weather, however, her grip goes slack. Is that...?
“Kaisa--!” Relief rushes through her, which reinvigorates her enough to ignore her numb limbs in favor of doubling her pace. Which really just means she’s wading through the snow slightly faster, but she’s trying, okay. It looks silly and undignified and unabashed, meaning the company in question is the perfect accent to these antics. Being composed is for the boring wardens.
Once both parties have closed the distance, Sigrun smiles wide and breathes hard, resting her hands on her knees. “Yes, well.” Huff. “You know me.” Huff puff. “I never know when to quit.” It takes another minute for her to fully catch her breath. Once she’s confident she has enough air in her lungs to form full sentences, she gives Puppy’s ears a good scratch and leans her weight against him. “I don’t think everything ever stopped being weird. But you can tell me all about it on the way back.”
The offer for help is wordlessly accepted by Sigrun pulling herself up and onto Puppy’s back. She shoots Kaisa a cheeky grin once she’s settled in, tilting her head as if to say this is what you meant, right? “I think I can manage. As long as I have the help of this noble steed, of course.”
part b - warden camp
Sigrun sits in front of a campfire in the warden camp as if she belongs there. As if she never left. As if this place even existed when she was here last, which it certainly did not. The situation around here has improved in more ways than just the sleeping conditions, near as she can tell, but there’s still so much she doesn’t know. There are things she needs to confront and work out and it makes her head spin to think about any of it. It’s all too complicated. She’s a simple dwarf with simple needs, like stabbing darkspawn with a sword and staring at shiny things and trying to make the world better. How did she wind up here, plagued by thoughts of traitorous wardens and demons and dwarves consumed by red lyrium to the point of returning to the Stone in the most twisted and sacrilegious way possible?
She closes her eyes and wiggles her toes in front of the fire, soaking in the moment and driving her troubled thoughts away to address them at a later date. Not today. She’s not dealing with those today. Today is for warmth and friends and untroubled (less troubled, anyway) sleep. The grim expression on her face eases, the furrow in her brow falls away, and she’s left with silence, save for the crackling of the flames. It's a good time to approach, if you don't mind her lounging in casual wear while her Legionnaire armor (notably not her warden armor) is drying out beside her.
part c - tavern
After the sun has set and Sigrun’s frozen bones have been sufficiently thawed by the warmth of actual, tangible flames and sentimentality alike, she retires to the tavern. She needs a drink. She needs about 100 drinks, if you do the math and divide what she’s been through by the time she’s spent in a tavern lately (which equals none at all), but that would probably kill her. So she starts off with one and makes it last by sipping slowly, coaxing conversation out of those around her with humor and tall tales. It’s not hard to find her in the middle of a bad joke. Or staring into her cup wistfully. It’s been a long day.
WHAT: Sigrun gets to Skyhold.
WHEN: Guardian, 9:43 Dragon
WHERE: Around Skyhold
NOTES: If you have an idea for a more specific starter not included here, let me know!
WHEN: Guardian, 9:43 Dragon
WHERE: Around Skyhold
NOTES: If you have an idea for a more specific starter not included here, let me know!
part a - arriving at skyhold (closed to kaisa, continuation of this)
When the outline of a person fades into view on the edges of her vision, Sigrun instinctively grasps the hilt of one of her swords, squinting through the onslaught of snow and trying to determine who or what is bounding towards her. Once the figure gets close enough to be recognizable in spite of the weather, however, her grip goes slack. Is that...?
“Kaisa--!” Relief rushes through her, which reinvigorates her enough to ignore her numb limbs in favor of doubling her pace. Which really just means she’s wading through the snow slightly faster, but she’s trying, okay. It looks silly and undignified and unabashed, meaning the company in question is the perfect accent to these antics. Being composed is for the boring wardens.
Once both parties have closed the distance, Sigrun smiles wide and breathes hard, resting her hands on her knees. “Yes, well.” Huff. “You know me.” Huff puff. “I never know when to quit.” It takes another minute for her to fully catch her breath. Once she’s confident she has enough air in her lungs to form full sentences, she gives Puppy’s ears a good scratch and leans her weight against him. “I don’t think everything ever stopped being weird. But you can tell me all about it on the way back.”
The offer for help is wordlessly accepted by Sigrun pulling herself up and onto Puppy’s back. She shoots Kaisa a cheeky grin once she’s settled in, tilting her head as if to say this is what you meant, right? “I think I can manage. As long as I have the help of this noble steed, of course.”
part b - warden camp
Sigrun sits in front of a campfire in the warden camp as if she belongs there. As if she never left. As if this place even existed when she was here last, which it certainly did not. The situation around here has improved in more ways than just the sleeping conditions, near as she can tell, but there’s still so much she doesn’t know. There are things she needs to confront and work out and it makes her head spin to think about any of it. It’s all too complicated. She’s a simple dwarf with simple needs, like stabbing darkspawn with a sword and staring at shiny things and trying to make the world better. How did she wind up here, plagued by thoughts of traitorous wardens and demons and dwarves consumed by red lyrium to the point of returning to the Stone in the most twisted and sacrilegious way possible?
She closes her eyes and wiggles her toes in front of the fire, soaking in the moment and driving her troubled thoughts away to address them at a later date. Not today. She’s not dealing with those today. Today is for warmth and friends and untroubled (less troubled, anyway) sleep. The grim expression on her face eases, the furrow in her brow falls away, and she’s left with silence, save for the crackling of the flames. It's a good time to approach, if you don't mind her lounging in casual wear while her Legionnaire armor (notably not her warden armor) is drying out beside her.
part c - tavern
After the sun has set and Sigrun’s frozen bones have been sufficiently thawed by the warmth of actual, tangible flames and sentimentality alike, she retires to the tavern. She needs a drink. She needs about 100 drinks, if you do the math and divide what she’s been through by the time she’s spent in a tavern lately (which equals none at all), but that would probably kill her. So she starts off with one and makes it last by sipping slowly, coaxing conversation out of those around her with humor and tall tales. It’s not hard to find her in the middle of a bad joke. Or staring into her cup wistfully. It’s been a long day.
no subject
Korrin catches her off guard, and Sigrun almost spills her drink in response. Almost. Twitchy as she may be in her current state, her senses are sharp enough to not let such a gift go to waste. What starts as a tiny yelp turns into a long drown out "Iiii," followed by a full sentence that was always intended to be that way and not at all an attempt at recovery on her part. "Know that. Obviously." She coughs and tightens the grip on her cup, pulling it against her chest. Smooth. "I'm only keeping my size in mind. It doesn't take much for me to get drunk, and I want to remember tonight." A pause. "Maybe? Probably."
no subject
"What's special about tonight, that demands relative sobriety? Is there another holiday I forgot about?"
no subject
"Is this the part where I say that my being here makes it a holiday?" She chuckles a bit and shrugs her shoulders. The hand that's not holding her drink rubs at the back of her neck, accompanying a modest grin. "The real answer is not nearly as exciting. I was gone for a long time, and now I am back. It feels like it should be worth celebrating." There's an unspoken but... clinging on to the end of her statement that she refuses to voice.
no subject
"Hell yeah, it's worth celebrating. It sounds like you went through a lot of shit just to get here, not wading through it anymore is something worth drinking to. At least, I'd say so." The unspoken but has her raising an eyebrow, wondering at to what's holding her back. "Why wouldn't you deserve it?"