[OPEN] Kindness is a light in Kirkwall

[killedwithlove]

WHO: Cole; anyone who needs him
WHAT: Cole's been convinced to come to Kirkwall to help people so he is going to help the hell out of them.
WHEN: Covering the month of Bloomingtide
WHERE: Anywhere BUT the Gallows
NOTES: Will probably end up dealing with lots of the awful from the Gallows. PM this journal or jemisard for an individual starter

Cole never wanted to come here. He wanted to leave, to go elsewhere, but he was convinced that here he is most needed and thus, here he is.

Kirkwall scares him. Deeply scares him, so much that he barely goes into the city at first, but he slowly starts picking out the individuals among the screaming horror of the city, the people who he can help, who still be touched and brought back.

Comments

[aceso]

It's only once she steps off the boat that takes her back to the docks from the Gallows each day that Christine feels she can breath again. It's frustrating, but she can't help how her body reacts to the place. Her head often feels like it's too heavy for her neck to support, her limbs feel heavy too, and there's a ringing in her ears. Sometimes bright, white spots appear before her eyes. She's even passed out a few times. She hates this, but she doesn't know what can be done to make herself more calm other than simply not going to the Gallows. Unfortunately, the Inquisition has deemed it the perfect base of operations for some maddening reason, so she's there by force.

Except for when she's finished a day's work and can escape once more. On the docks she draws in a deep breath, trying to find her calm and let go of her unease.

[killedwithlove]

"Someone once said places can't be evil, but they can hold onto the evil they've experienced, just like people."

Cole speaks from next to her. He might have been there a moment ago. He might not have. But he's there now, sitting on a box and looking out over the water, face mostly hidden by his ridiculous hat.

[aceso]

It's not too surprising that she might have missed someone sitting there. Her thoughts are obviously focused elsewhere, and she takes a brief glance in the direction of the Gallows before looking back at him. Or what she can see of him, really. He's mostly a hat on a body.

"It is true. Some places become tainted." There are different ways that happens, but the result is always the same. The area is never the same again, not even if you slap a new coat of paint on it and make new statues.

[killedwithlove]

"Yes."

Her glance is what provokes the comment. The Gallows is stained with so much suffering and misery and Despair that nothing will ever lift it while it holds that shape.

"The stones remember. The wood stains with Despair and warps under the pressure. The Veil shudders and the other side weeps all the tears that were ever shed there. I can't go in there. I don't think all those people should be there."

[aceso]

His words paint such a vivid picture that Christine shudders and pulls her cloak a bit tighter around herself.

"Well, lucky you. After hearing that, now I definitely do not want to go back there, but I am forced to be there." Not completely forced, but her choices are between working there and leaving the Inquisition, which she's seriously considered. If the Inquisition is so cruel as to force people -- especially mages -- into the location where up to a few years ago mages and Tranquil were tortured and killed, then perhaps it isn't the organization for her anymore. She's here to help people as a healer and to research red lyrium to stop its spread. Why she can't do that on the docks is beyond her.

[circleprodigy]

Now necessary goods have been acquired from the Lowtown market -teas, dog treats and a few other things- Inessa is aware that she ought to return to the Gallows. And yet, she has had so little time or opportunity to wander outside it ever since arrival. Taking advantage of the daylight remaining, and the presence of her mabari companion, the Grey Warden mage wanders until she pauses at the edge of the alienage.

She hadn't meant to come here; in fact, she's avoided doing so all month. There's little reason to venture forth when she doesn't even have a past connection to the elves here, unlike Denerim. They'll take one look at her, in her Grey Warden attire, with a staff and well-bred mabari hound, and know that she doesn't belong. It was the price paid, for a life of learning and not of deprivation.

But the vhenadahl catches her eye and she steps forward, regardless. The massive tree isn't common to all alienages, not anymore, but she's pleased to see it remains in Kirkwall. Quietly, hoping not to draw more attention from the nearby elves than need be, Inessa pauses to rest a hand on the painted bark. She stares upward, remembering its cousin in Denerim. It was the most beautiful thing in the alienage--the only beautiful thing, really. She doesn't remember much about that time, but that one image makes her smile a little. It's not enough to erase the tension within, though, only ease it for a moment.

[killedwithlove]

"It holds all their love and loss and grief and hope, each leaf is all of that and more, for all the lives lived here."

Cole's there now. He definitely wasn't before, but he is now, standing next to her. He has a bundle of garishly coloured cloth in his arms, a virulent pink and yellow mess that looks to be good quality cloth of some kind.

"It's strong when they need strength and nurturing when they need comfort."

[circleprodigy]

Cole's sudden presence provokes startled barking in Garahel, who's not often caught off-guard. If Cole were human, he likely wouldn't be, but his spirit gifts supersede a mabari's well-trained senses. Inessa glances over sharply, tense for all of a second before recognizing that face and voice. "Ah--Cole. It has been some time. I didn't know you had followed us to Kirkwall."

How could she have, when all her available time has been sucked into improving the Gallows? The Gallows, with restless spirits and moving statues--she fights back that anxiety spike with a deep breath, looking upward again to the branches of the wide tree. "That's how it is in Denerim, too. We don't have much beauty or heritage, so we cherish what remains.

And are they in need of comfort these days? Is that why you're here now?" She remembers his name and purpose, that clinging to her even when the exact details of his face were hazy. But now that he's in front of her, it all snaps back into place.

[killedwithlove]

"I didn't follow. I just came. They convinced me I can do more good here. That I won't fall."

He holds out a hand to Garahel, but doesn't actually look at him, watching the tree instead.

"I think most people here need comfort, but I don't know if I can help a lot of them. Their pain is so deep and old, even if I can tease it apart, will they unravel with it? I don't know." He rocks on his feet, hugging himself briefly. "I do what I can, but it's not enough. I don't like that."

[sulena]

The light of the day is fading but Saoirse has not bothered to bring herself back inside, away from the docks looking out over Kirkwall harbor and the Gallows just yet as she quietly plucks the strings of her lute in tiny little melodies. Just as quietly she sings smaller melodies in both the common tongue and the one made up within the walls of Starkhaven's alienage.

It's a mix of words to be understood and not to be understood but there is a sorrow that is unmistakable. It is hard not to feel sorrow when she has, once again, returned to this city.

[killedwithlove]

Sorrow is a natural emotion and an expected one. It doesn't really need anything from Compassion, because it simply is and will move on.

But, Cole likes music sometimes. So when he hears the music, he comes to listen, sitting nearby with his knees tucked to his chest and his hat hiding most of him from view as he listens and sways along with the music.

[sulena]

It's what twists under the sorrow, everything else that threatens to bubble over but is kept down and calmed by years of practice. It's guilt and regret that she survived the Gallows while others did not. It is echoes of screams and cries that at one time lulled her to sleep as if it were a song because she would not have slept otherwise.

Carefully, she continues to pluck at the strings until she notices Cole out of the corner of her eye and glances over with a soft smile. "I rather hope I'm not bothering you," she says with a smile. "Many don't come this way at this hour."

[killedwithlove]

"I don't sleep," Cole states, as if that's the most relevant part. "And if I was bothered, I'd just go away. I like music. Music doesn't try to lie."

[justice_is_blond]

It is hard, very hard, to be in Kirkwall again. It's even harder to push back all the emotions and memories it pulls up, and most of the time in these first few weeks Anders fails badly at it.

But as he looks around for Cole one evening, having left the healing rooms in the Gallows for the day, he's trying. The spiritboy doesn't need that pressing in, no matter how the buildings push.

"Have you seen..." Anders trails off as for the third time that day he remembers someone might not recall seeing Cole even if they'd spoken with him. Right. Time to keep looking and hoping he finds wherever he's gone.

[killedwithlove]

Outside the Gallows, there is some evidence of Cole's activities. Children with food they couldn't have got for themselves. A woman who says a ghost returned her mother's stolen jewellery box, an old momento of no worth except to her. Always away from the Gallows. Nearly always women or children helped.

And then, he's just there, watching Anders, cradling small bird in his hands.

[justice_is_blond]

By now he shouldn't be surprised that Cole can do that, just... appear like that. And yet he still is, every time, and the smile he gives Cole is as much amused as it is warm.

"I should have simply waited and known you'd show up." Anders comes over and takes a seat next to Cole, leaning over to look at the bird.

"Is it hurt? Or have you simply calmed it?"

[killedwithlove]

"I know when people are looking for me. Need me. Or want me."

He looks down at the bird. "Its wing is broken. I was going to find a healer for it, but if it can't be healed, I'll make it quick and clean, not starving prey on the street." He strokes a finger over the bird's head and it trills softly at him. He smiles gently in return. "But I want to save you if we can."

timing is late this month!

[in_death_sacrifice]

It's been a pretty awful time for Kain as of late. His whole exploration venture... hadn't ended too well. But then again, maybe trying to fight a dragon by himself was a bad idea. It's not as if he'd expected it, or planned on it happening. He'd just wanted to see as much as he could of the mountains.

So here he is now, stuck in the Gallows infirmary. The start of the month was pretty bad, he'd been barely conscious for most of it. But now he's finally making better progress in recovering. He's even getting up for small stretches of time, trying to rebuild enough strength to move around again. Injuries like this are so frustrating.

He's doing so now, walking slowly around the area near the infirmary, finally stopping to sit when he can't take it. He continues along this way until he makes it well past the Gallows and into Kirkwall proper, stopping often, walking a ways, repeating the process continually. Ugh. There's also a lot on his mind, questions and unfinished plans regarding his feelings for Inessa... and his fears about the possible dark future. He's pretty much radiating pain in every possible way, mental and physical.

[killedwithlove]

Cole is drawn slowly to Kain, the pain something more than he can actually help, but the conflict inside of him- that is something he can help with. He can listen.

And so, he makes his way to Kain, sitting next to him and then remembering to be visible.

"The future is what we make of it. There's no use in obsessing on it."

[in_death_sacrifice]

There certainly is a lot going through his mind, so much that he's walked much farther this time than he's been doing. He'd just been so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed how far from the Gallows he'd made it. Whoops. Well. There's not much to be done for that now.

When Cole suddenly appears, Kain does a double take, shocked at first. But then... hadn't it been weird the last time they'd spoken? He's still not sure what to make of him. It's not a bad thing, at all, it's just... strange.

"You..." That's right, he can tell what he's thinking somehow, can't he? "How do you do that?" He sighs, looking down. "I am obsessing, aren't I?"

[killedwithlove]

Cole feels the flickers of emotion and thoughts and settles on the clearest one. "Compassion has to understand. Not agree, I don't always agree, but I understand. I can care better because I understand."

He's not sure that will make sense to Kain.

"Yes. And it's causing you pain. But if you focus on now, on how to make things better in this moment, you're changing that darkness by spreading a light. Your kindness can spark hope in someone else. And the lighter people's hearts are, the less likely they are to fall."

[crowncitizen]

Prompto aches for home.

He tries to tell himself that he'll never see it again, even if he does somehow leave Thedas. But then he remembers home isn't just his house; it's Noctis and the others, his band of brothers that are somewhere in Niflheim, speeding along a train toward Noctis' destiny, whatever exactly that is. And he's not there. His best friend needs him, and he's not there. Instead, he's stuck here, in a city of unfamiliar people and unfamiliar things. Adjusting to Thedas comes hard to him. The camera he carries around serves as a source of comfort, not just as a means to make himself useful here. He now wears the clothes of this place, blending in more, but he still feels like an outsider. Is an outsider, no matter what.

No matter where he is, he's a pretender. He pretended to be Lucian back home, and he pretends to be Thedosian here. Always faking, never really ... real. It's only around his friends that he can sometimes forget that, but without them, that reality presses down on him again.

He forces on a smile, trying to keep up his cheerful persona as he wanders the street, camera tucked out of sight in his bag.

[killedwithlove]

"The hard thing about pretending is that you don't really have to do much. Just not be obviously wrong to their assumptions."

The softly spoken words are clearly directed at Prompto, since the speaker is looking straight at him. He's a pale reflection of Prompto, paler hair, paler eyes, paler skin, not as good looking and dressed in little more than rags, really.

"And here, in Kirkwall, it's even worse. Because most people can't look up from their own suffering to see another's. But you do, I think. You're used to it."

[crowncitizen]

The words stop him dead in his tracks. Eyes wide, Prompto looks around for a moment until he finally finds Cole. The young man's appearance strikes him. He wonders if he's one of the city's poor.

"I... what?" Prompto blinks at his words. "What... makes you say that?"

[killedwithlove]

"Because- it's true?"

Cole just looks confused now. Why else would he say something, except that it's true?