[OPEN] now that you're living on the hill

[paladingus]

WHO: Simon and OPEN.
WHAT: Getting reacquainted with Kirkwall.
WHEN: Justinian, just like whenever.
WHERE: All over the city.
NOTES: I'm always happy to write up another starter if you'd like!

I. Hanged Man

Simon's never been a big drinker. He doesn't mind letting people size him up and assume he could drink them under the table, but on the whole, he thinks he has enough vices to atone for without being a lush on top of it all.

But some boredom needs the big guns busted out to take care of it. The Hanged Man has mostly lost the aura of forbidden mystery and excitement it had held when he was a teenage recruit in the Gallows, but the aura of shame and insufficient sanitation that's since replaced it isn't enough to keep him away when it's the only place in town he can afford. He's at the bar, on his third pint, cheering on the brawl that's begun on the other side of the room.

II. Living Quarters

There's plenty about the city that seems unfamiliar now that he's returning to it in his thirties, after nearly a decade and an intervening war, and on the whole, the strangeness isn't a bad thing. He hadn't liked the place to begin with. But all the same, there's something to be said for a little bit of familiarity here and there, and sharing the old templar rooms with Cade again isn't the bad kind of deja vu. It's certainly an improvement on the group quarters. He's on his way to move what few possessions he has into the room, whistling as he carries the box.

III. Markets

The marks from being electrically charbroiled by a furious lightning mage are beginning to fade, but the excruciating stiffness of having all his muscles involuntarily locked up and the bruises from the resulting deadweight collapse aren't quite so quick to dissipate.

Or perhaps they would be, if he were a little more patient with them, but Simon is not a man who takes well to any kind of imposition on his physical fitness. An injury that thinks it's going to keep him off the training grounds is an injury that needs to be taught a lesson and slapped right back into its place, damn it. To that end, he's wandering the market in his civvies, in search of some kind of potion or poultice that can teach his ornery muscle strain who's boss.

IV. Wildcard

Go nuts!

Comments

[sulena]

"That would be it. I stayed in Kirkwall after moving from Starkhaven, we stuck out with our accents so I am sure our paths crossed once or twice." She says and then grins, nodding. "And yes, I am the one that likes to sing."

Saoirse can't blame him since her name is a mouthful. She cannot remember him with exact clarity herself but a lot of her time was spent with her head down. "I used to sing hymns to the little ones when we were allowed to be out and about."

[paladingus]

"It's true. I did feel awful about what happened to your Circle, but it was nice to hear more voices from home around." He remembers a few of the transplanted mages, but only one or two by name, and their faces are a little hazy now as well. Voices are a little stronger in his memory.

And hers rings a bell now, faintly but definitely. "--I do remember that. Our schedules must have overlapped a bit. Or--not exactly, but I could just hear you from where I was supposed to be guarding, so I'd find excuses to patrol sometimes so that I could get a bit closer and hear better."

[sulena]

"It was saddening. I hated to leave Starkhaven but I was determined to help the homes find a new home," she says lightly. "The little ones were always so scared so it was the least I could do for them."

It had helped her too. "Really? I remember once or twice there were Templars that would ask me to sing hymns for them while they prayed. I like to think it helped calm them too."