[OPEN] and I won't fight through the rising tide

[sans_harmony]

WHO: Diwaniya and anyone who wants to bother him.
WHAT: Diwa making an unintentional nuisance of himself all over Kirkwall, p. much.
WHEN: Throughout the month.
WHERE: All over the place.
NOTES: He's trying, really.

1. Docks

Having spent the last several years of his life governing a small island, Diwaniya's accustomed to spending a fair amount of time observing what goes on around the docks. But Harmony Isle had been tiny, and remote, and even at its busiest, there were never more than a few boats coming and going at once, all tiny rickety craft with humble, grizzled captains, trading simple goods for a few crates of herbs here and there. This--this is almost overwhelming. He's never been in a place quite like Kirkwall.

But the city of his childhood was close enough, from what little he remembers of it now. It's been years since he had cause to recall anything about Dillame, with its loud bustling shipyard and its scent of wet sea air, and his parents' modest inn by the shore, and the nostalgia hits him like a smack of salt spray to the face. It's not something he should remember. It's not relevant anymore, wouldn't have been relevant even if it were physically possible for him ever to see Dillame or his family again, but now that it's not--

In any case, someone should probably remind Diwaniya that a crowded dock filled with people hurriedly lugging cargo around is not an ideal spot to stand around navel-gazing. He's kind of getting in the way.

2. Library

Diwa's authoritative assertion that it would only take him two weeks to be able to read trade as fluently as a native had been, as it turns out, somewhat overconfident. Anders' patient instruction and a month's hard work have made it easy enough for him to read street signs, notices, things printed in large and clear lettering where every letter of the foreign alphabet is distinct and recognizable--but when has that ever applied to a book anyone would want to read? The tantalizing magical tomes in the library are as incomprehensible as ever, the fonts archaic and cramped and the ink sometimes faded and blurred, and no matter how many hours he spends trying to decipher the words, all he ever seems to end up with is a blinding headache.

Slamming the heavy text shut and shoving it aside is poor library etiquette, he knows, but he'd like to think he can be forgiven for it--at least until the book falls off the table with a deafening thud. Whoops.

3. Garden

The garden, at least, doesn't require him to be able to read in order to tend it well. It would help, but as long as he can remember what Sina explains, he can do without. He's been trained to memorize things quickly and easily, but all training hinges on practice, and that's why he's talking quietly to himself as he moves among the pots to water the herbs. "--arcanist's deathroot has the red flowers, and lunatic's deathroot has the purple--no. Arcanist has the purple, lunatic has the red. Arcanist purple, lunatic red. Arcanist purple..."

The plants have all been hand-labeled in a script nobody but Diwa can read. Nobody's complained yet.

4. Stables

When searching for work, Diwaniya had made a point of omitting his zoological credentials, though they're considerably more extensive than his botanical ones--at least back home, they are. Just because he studies animals doesn't mean he wants to be put in a position to take care of them. Even the apprentices in Terrestia aren't made to muck stables or feed creations. But now that he doesn't think he's in any danger of being handed a shovel or a pitchfork and told to get busy, he's brought a pen and paper to come make some observations of all the strange foreign fauna Thedas has to offer. Horses? What are those? This shit is crazy.

He sits down on a hay bale to sketch one, eagerly glancing up to take in new details and make notes in the margins of the drawing.

5. Wildcard!

Comments

[foxsays]

Well you could always try telling people what you were doing with that hand which can earn you a chorus of laughter, free drinks, and break the ice with the right crowd or it can absolutely kill the mood if you judge the room wrong. Araceli's had it go both ways. Why didn't the Inquisition move to Rivain? People were pretty relaxed about it when she met them there, but then she was hanging out with the spirit healers, mages, all that crowd.

"If you have the skill, I would recommend that the best way for it with the way they've built Kirkwall is to do it via the rooftops, I've looked at a map or two and really, it worked out better for me after a few jaunts." Araceli smiles as if that's just a normal thing to do, climb up one building then traverse all the rest by their roofs, isn't everyone doing it these days? "A sensible plan, knowing the quickest way in and out of a place though you'd need to stash yourself or get in good with the crew and captains to pull off leaving this way."

[sans_harmony]

Diwaniya's ice is not easily broken, as a rule, and making him laugh is a Herculean endeavor for which whoever manages it should be richly and justly rewarded, but he's burningly curious about how the other rifters came to be here and why. He'd want to hear that story just to analyze every detail.

He hadn't envisioned having to leave the city in a hurry, exactly, or while pursued, but--well. Given the predicament he'd been in when the rift had handily rescued him from certain execution, maybe he ought to consider it. Just in case. He looks dubious and troubled at the prospect of having to pull off such a feat of dexterity himself, though. Diwaniya doesn't get a lot of exercise.

"I suppose I could offer my services as a deckhand, if it came to that," he says, "but if getting down here in the first place would take rooftop acrobatics, I think I'd be better off finding a different plan altogether. It's not a skill I've ever practiced. Or thought of."

[foxsays]

Somehow, despite all the times Araceli's told the story of her coming to Thedas, she's never told it the same way twice. And obviously she's never told the entire truth. Korrin probably embellishes too but Araceli doesn't go asking after what her partner tells friends or acquaintances about her, and Araceli's way of shading things is either outright lie daring someone to call her on it or so close to the truth you can't tell unless you know how to spot liars. (How has it almost been two years, even thinking that can leave her breathless and dizzy in less than pleasant ways.)

Araceli watches steadily, shakes her head to get her hair out of her face that also gives her a quick and easy way of getting a little glance around at anyone milling around or anyone staring. Because Kirkwall is good for that in a way Skyhold wasn't. Kirkwall is a living breathing city after all.

"You'd need to have the hands of a deck hand," her comment is mild but she's not talking about the matching green mark shared by anyone pulled here without a say in matters; even taking care of them, Araceli doesn't have the maintained hands of a lady. "We learn new skills as we must, and it's never too late to learn something new. And it does teach you how to think three moves ahead, a few back and a couple to either side when you don't know which way you'll run out of roof. How do you find Kirkwall? Many stairs, no?"