faderift | (OPEN) and when the currents circle back again

WHO: Ciri; open + some closed starters in the comments
WHAT: Ciri finally decides to get her butt to Kirkwall after a month of who knows what and being who knows where.
WHEN: Throughout the beginnings of Bloomingtide.
WHERE: Kirkwall, various
NOTES: Nothing to mention, will update as needed if anything does come up.

— ｇａｌｌｏｗｓ.

It is not cold here in Kirkwall but Ciri cannot stop sniffling throughout the trip across the harbor. She would have appreciated the chance to sit still for a moment after far too much time spent in the saddle following one very long trip across Orlais and back again before the trek through Nevarra, and finally on into the Free Marches. Unfortunately this boat ride across the harbor is anything but smooth and she wonders if she'll be becoming fast friends with the bottom of Kirkwall harbor soon.

Thankfully (or unfortunately?) that is not the case and with a neutral look, she frowns up at the sight of the Gallows and all its... well, she wouldn't call it glory. Huh, weird. She almost misses the cold valley and all its mud now.

"Hey!" She calls out to whomever happens to share this unfortunate space with her after a moment of needed frowning. Ciri possibly even has to turn her head a little more than needed depending on where said person is standing due to the noticeable swelling and dark bruises under both eyes with one verging on closing shut. The barely scabbed over busted lip along with other various bruises and cuts paint a noted story.

"Could you point me to where medical has set up?"

Might as well tend to the important things first.

— ｌｏｗｔｏｗｎ.

A literal month on horseback left little time to spend on any actual walking and even less on training. Despite a few days of rest, Ciri's leg ache and continue to feel like jello if she pushes herself to much. It is, without a doubt, hideously annoying. She also detests being cooped up inside the walls of the Gallows so she gets back across the harbor as soon as she possibly can and gets to work.

Work, of course, means climbing up Lowtown's less than grand build and getting a taste for her freerunning skills once again. She had to be creative in Skyhold but the city here gave her enough obstacles to push herself out of the comfort zone she had fallen into back at the isolated fortress high in the snowy mountains. It is, in all honesty, the most fun she has had in ages but it all ends rather suddenly when a leap between building falls short.

It isn't a long drop by any means but it knocks the air out of her already hurting lungs. It doesn't help she likely barely missed landing atop an unfamiliar (or possibly familiar!) person. A person that she can only look upwards at sheepishly, smiling.

"Uh, hey." Boom, born charmer.

— ｈｉｇｈｔｏｗｎ.

Compared to Lowtown, Hightown is almost a completely different world. The citizens mostly keep their space as she walks, indifferent to the white-haired Warden in her armor and carrying on conversations that don't register much to her ears. Not that she is not curious, this is a new city and new country that she is wholly unfamiliar about despite her travels. Nevertheless, she cannot bring herself to care much about the gossip of latest fashion disasters or who was caught kissing who in the painting room.

She does get distracted in the high class, pricey line of shops and stalls peddling everything under the the great sun. Ciri truly cannot help visiting a few, glancing the wares over and even mulling over a few of them and their details. Maybe you're also glancing over the trinkets, robes, weapons or other wares when suddenly you have a young woman at your side, dressed in shiny Warden armor and wrinkling her nose.

"How many bushels of apples do you think one of those amulets could buy, you think?"

Asking the important questions here...

— ｓｔａｂｌｅｓ.

Perhaps you're here visiting your own mount, caring for the others or just enjoying the day. Whatever the case my be, there is now one black mare invading your personal space. In her mouth, she is carrying a rather large basket of shiny red apples and snorting impatiently toward whomever was unfortunate to be the first person she found. Whatever could she need?

"Kelpie! Kelpie, get back here you terrible apple thief!"

Again, the mare huffs and suddenly moves to trot behind your back as if she can hide as Ciri suddenly rounds the corner. Huffing, clearly out of breath and dusted with dirt and grass as if she had fallen. How strange.

"Don't think you can hide from me!" Just what family fight have you found yourself in?

— ｗｉｌｄｃａｒｄ.

For anything not mentioned above! If you'd like a personalized starter then hit me up through a PM or on plurk at kaldwin

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He overhears the question and glances at the person she's asked, one of the scouts who might know. They're a decent enough choice. But they're probably not headed there and frankly, he could still use company when walking in to the Gallows from the docks.

"I can show you." Anders' voice is on the quiet side, face paler than usual. "It's where I'm going."

There's a beat before he attempts a joke: "On the other hand, she's cute. I'll not object if you want her to show you instead."

"Is she? It's rather hard for me to see, you know." Ciri's own attempt at jokes because it is just about all she has left in her currently.

Said scout is given a smile and a wave, she ducking her head politely before hurrying off to just who knows where because this place is new and she is verging on being half-blinded at this rate.

"But you'll do, we can look like shit together and make quite the pair scaring all in our path."

He gives her a quiet chuckle. Joking when in the state she's clearly in deserves it, no matter how weak the jokes may be.

"I don't know about you, generally I just have to whisper my name and everyone's terrified." It's his best attempt back as he jerks his head in the direction their going and offers her his arm.

"If you'd like some help, considering the eye, I'm willing to give it."

"If only they knew about all the kittens hiding in your coat," she sighs. "And what a gentleman you are!"

Ciri happily takes his arm because honestly it is a nice to just have the help. Her legs are still weirdly shaky from the long ride and she is, without a doubt, hideously tired.

"How have things been beside them smuggling you into literally the worst city you could ever step foot in again?"

Carefully, Anders walks her in, watching her gait as they go. He'll hold off on the magic until they're in the rooms set aside for healing but this can give him a headstart.

"Aside from that?" His smile is a little askew. "If we ignore the city as an element, then things have been going well. There's not been a mob yet, and there's quite the change in the old death toll for mages. I'm given to understand it's entirely possible none are dying most days, as opposed to the five to ten daily."

There are small good points to Kirkwall now. He has to keep them in mind, because otherwise he might get overwhelmed with the many bad points. Anders gets her to the healing rooms and opens the doors.

"So what happened to you?"

"A shame that," she says. "The lack of a mob not the lack of mages dying. We could use a good mob every now and again. Can certainly liven things up, those mobs."

There is a noticeably heaviness to her steps as she pushes most of her weight off of her injured legs, which in turn, causes a noted limp. Otherwise most of her injuries are focused on her face, hands and arms. It doesn't help that she's aggravated some injuries by prodding them.

Nevertheless, she is glad to see the healing rooms and not some cold tent like back at Skyhold.

"Met up with an old friend and talked, shared a few punches. As old friends do, of course."

He exhales, the quietest of amused sounds, to the mob comment. Mobs can get things done, sometimes. They're just also unpredictable and very dangerous.

Once she's seated, he starts working on her legs.

"Friend, or friend? As in, someone where there's mutual like, or mutual dislike?" Because he has 'friends' and friends, after all.

"Hmm. A little bit of both, I suppose." She says, sniffing and idly prodding at her scabbed over lip with her tongue.

"We used to run together in the same group. He was our... leader, I suppose. At least the one that seemed most well fit for the group," Ciri begins. "I hadn't seen him since I got conscripted. We both had a lot of built up feelings."

The answer gets a chuckle.

"You talk about him the way I imagine Hawke might talk about me. Aside from the leader part, she was ever the leader. I... I can't imagine how running into her again will go." Even though her lack of participation in Bethany's funeral makes him worry that might not happen again.

"Did your errands go well?"

"Hmm. Would she punch you? I might want to see that, not because of your misery but because I just want to see the Champion punch something. It would a tale for the ages."

She hums at his question, rubbing the back of her neck lightly. "Well enough, I didn't rush into the Anderfels so I have that much going for me."

At least her legs are healing smoothly despite the prodding. There's always a risk of increased damage, but she's not done that.

"I suggest instead we shove some idiot into her, someone who deserves a punching who is not one of us, and then you can watch. I'm personally tired of being punched."

Sure, it's been a few months since it happened last, but he spent a lot of time as a child being punched and kicked. Having it resume happening was no joy.

"And I have to say I'm glad you didn't rush into the Anderfels. They're lovely lands, but considering what it would have meant..." He shrugs as he finishes up her legs. "That's that, now for the rest. Do I want to ask what you did to get these?"

(OPEN) and when the currents circle back again

Gallows

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