faderift | What's My Scene

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What's My Scene

WHO: Jamie and anyone who wants to bother him
WHAT: Experiments and Bagpipes and Fights, oh my!
WHEN: Roundabout nowish
WHERE: Kirkwall, The Wounded Coast
NOTES: Possible violence, probable questions, faint chance of bagpipes, definite Hoodoo Guru lyrics

Poking At Your Experiments
Being part of the group working with the rifts meant that Jamie wound up closing a fair few of them, but there was more to the project than simply that. The veil being as thin as it was in Kirkwall meant it was a good place to try out all sorts of things in an effort to see how the veil or the marks would react. While Jamie wasn't really the scientific sort, he was still a rifter and able to take part in whatever experiments other people came up with - even if that part involved him standing around and handing over various containers and tubes or whatever bits and pieces people were asking for.

That didn't mean that he had to sit there and do it quietly, though, and more often than not when he'd gotten drawn into playing assistant he wound up peering at whatever it was the other person was doing and occasionally reaching out a curious finger to see if he could get away at poking at some of the more gadget-like objects. Even if he couldn't get away with that, though, it wasn't about to stop him from asking questions...like he was doing now.

"So what's that do, then?"

The Wild Piper Of The Wounded Coast
The Inquisition quarters by the docks weren't really the best place for piping. They were crowded on the best of days, and even if Jamie'd been able to stay by himself in his shared room the walls were too far too thin for any proper playing to be done. The fact that he'd had to take in a new roommate once the Doctor'd disappeared simply meant that aside from the odd bit of maintenance, his pipes tended not to see the light of day.

Away from the city was a different story, however. He was already of the mind that further away he was able to get away from the city, the better it was, which is why he'd volunteered to go with this particular group tasked with gathering herbs along the Wounded Coast. The fact that it meant that he'd also be able to get to bring his pipes was an added bonus - but so far he hadn't had a chance to play anything. Instead, he was currently stuck with the task of hauling the plants that they'd found back to the main part of camp, and as he sets the latest box down, it was with just a touch of impatience. This part of things he'd be more than glad to be done with. Assuming, of course, that he'd get the chance to actually be done and not get roped into doing something else, but the only way to find that out was to ask.

"Here, are we done for now? Or is there anything else you wanted before I head off for a bit?"

Song Of The City At Night
Many places in Kirkwall were dangerous, especially once the sun set. While the criminals weren't necessarily as brazen as they once had been, the unwary could all-too-easily find themselves a target of one - or more - of the unsavory elements that called the city home. Even those who paid attention to their surroundings could find themselves surrounded in turn, something that Jamie had found out the hard way when a small group of thugs stepped out to block his path. Still, he wasn't daunted. No McCrimmon had backed down from a fight yet, and he wasn't about to start now. He had his reflexes, he had his dirk...and chances were if he was loud enough, he'd get somebody's attention. Whether or not it was somebody who'd be willing to help him remained to be seen, but he went ahead and raised his voice anyway, just to see what'd happen.

"Think you can take me down, do you? Aye, well, I wager you're in for a surprise."

Wildcard
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"Oh -- on that note," she says. "I meant to ask you. How did you figure out your shard could do things besides closing rifts? Just by chance, or were you working at it somehow?"

"Aye, well, there was that weed monster," he points out. There'd been that, and a couple of other plant-based creatures he'd run across before. In the end, though, he supposes it doesn't make all that much of a difference. The monsters'd been defeated, and in his experience, the rest was just as she'd said. Weeds that grow like normal, everyday weeds. And plants that don't have to be gathered to try and be coaxed into growing places they don't normally grow - although he supposes there were some somewhere back home. He doesn't really know about those, though, and maybe that does make him fortunate, to not have to worry about it.

Or have had to worry about it, because it's different now. He'shere, the same as she is, and going through some of the same things - like being crammed into a space he doesn't really want to be where he could be found whether he likes it or not, and he finds himself nodding in agreement more than once as she winds up answering her own question.

"Aye, that's it, exactly. No matter where you go, there's someone else who's right there, even if all you want to do is go someplace where you can get in a wee bit of playing without having to worry if your pipes are going to start a panic. I don't see why we had to all come here in the first place, thin veil or no thin veil. They could've left us be where we were."

She's not the only one keeping an eye out as they go along, even if he's confident that he can hold his own against any bandits that might be in the area, he doesn't want to risk Hermione getting hurt in an ambush. If anyone does happen to try something, he'll be ready for them.

No-one does, although the longer they walk the more he starts to wonder if they're ever going to get to where she's left their lunch - because surely she must have done, unless she's gone and hidden it on herself somewhere. He's not spotted any telltale bags or signs of bulges, however, and unless she's found a way to shrink down their food and make it so tiny that it could fit in a pocket, he's fairly sure she's stashed it somewhere in the place where they're supposed to end up.

When she stops him, however, he doesn't see any sign of anything like that - or anything resembling a place that's been specially set up to spend an afternoon at. All he sees is grass, and a few wee bits of shadow, and judging by the look on his face he can't quite seem to make up his mind if he wants to frown or simply be confused. Eventually it settles into a mix between the two, a puzzled expression with a knit brow, the crease between it winding up growing that much deeper when he follows her gesture, only to see more grass rather than anything else.

"What, you mean the grass? Aye, I see that well enough. Thought you said that you'd set something up, though. You're not having me on, are you?"

"Perhaps one day more shall come across sylvans." Not the Grand Oak, not that irritating creature, never again. Was it not galling enough to have to suffer the poor rhymes once, did they have to go to it again to save the life of a member of the Inquisition and Leliana at that? But as much as Morrigan loves the wilds she can't say she loves sylvans because she's not a fool, she's been attacked by them more than once and it hurts, oh does it hurt to have a possessed tree decided to roar and catch you up in a cage of bark as it crushes you before someone hacks at it and you set it on fire.

Honestly, that there aren't any in Sundermount thus far has been one of the more surprising parts of her exploratory trips there. Even if not exclusively elven, it's a place of old death and battle, a wild place. If there was a place where sylvans might start to just stroll out? It would be there.

"I believe that the Inquisition thinks it might achieve something of substance. In a place with few friends. In easier reach of enemies. Being a creature with too many heads that snap at one another and too many legs tripping over themselves, unfit to be seen in public," that's very uncharitable but out here on the Wounded Coast as the rest of the party fades into the distance the higher they climb who's going to hear her say the words but Jamie? "What pipes would cause such a panic? How would pipes cause a panic?" Please explain young man, it's a little better than remembering what a monumentally bad idea being in Kirkwall is for literally the whole Inquisition in her mind.

The men that were left - the ones that were still somewhat mobile, anyway - answered the question in the only way they could. They broke, and ran. Or as close as they could get to running, at any rate, but even though some of them could only hobble, it was clear they wanted nothing more to do with Oghren or his axe.

As for the ones that couldn't run...well, except for the one that Jamie had taken down, it was fairly clear that they weren't going to be able to do anything at all. And, seeing what was left of his fellows, the man Jamie had taken down decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and as the Warden started to look his way, he decided to play dead. For his part, Jamie didn't notice, instead finishing his run over, coming to a stop once he reached Oghren. The sword he'd taken hung in the air a moment longer, but then he let it drop to his side, figuring that there wasn't any point to keeping it up when there wasn't anyone left to fight.

"Think you might be out of luck there," he commented, dryly. "Unless you think it's worth it going to hunt them down, that is, but if you ask me I think they've learned their lesson."

Something about that look in her eyes causes his brow to furrow ever so slightly, even if he's not entirely sure what's behind it. His response is the same, either way - to step forward close enough that he can offer an arm out for a comforting hug, if she wants one.

"Aye, well, even if you aren't, bringing clans together's a good thing to be happening. And I may not know so much about Dalish clans as I should, but if you ask me, Clan Ashara's lucky to have you."

Edited (white space edit) 2017-08-07 04:32 (UTC)

That, actually, is a good question, and he hrms thoughtfully for a moment before letting his hand drop again.

"Ah...suppose that depends on how you look at it. I'd not set out to try and see if it was doing anything different, but I had been fighting the first time it'd gone off. Think that might have counted as working at it?"

While Jamie might very well think that she's gone mad, Hermione can't help but let out an excited sort of noise at his response - if she were less dignified, one might even say that she'd squealed in delight. Thankfully, though, she's Hermione Granger, and Hermione Granger doesn't squeal.

Not one to leave someone out on a lurch for too long, she waves her wand to drop down the various wards she'd put up. Not only can they now approach the area in question, but Jamie can now plainly see the rather large blanket that had been spread out, anchored from the breeze by small rocks and a not-so-small basket out of which a loaf of bread and what looks like a bottle of wine are poking out. Dishes and glasses have also been set up, and now that the wards are down, Hermione wastes no time in moving forward; or, at least, she wastes very little time, taking a moment to reach up to kiss Jamie's cheek in her joy before grabbing his hand and moving onward.

"I'm so glad! I wasn't sure whether or not the charms would all hold up, especially not with me pointing them out, but now that I know they do I can see about working on improving and adapting what I know to help benefit the Inquisition! Thank you so much, Jamie! Here, sit, I hope you're hungry. I had to call in a favor one of the chefs at the Gallows owed me so I can get a whole chicken and some roast potatoes all conveniently packed up, but you've more than earned it!"

"Eh. They can go lick their sodding wounds."

He put his axe back onto his back then gave the boy a look up and down. He wasn't about to judge the skirt thing because mages seemed to fight just fine in those. Besides, he figured it had to be good for some easy access business. Couldn't ever fault a young one for that.

"So how's that thing breathe? You get good air up there?" He wasn't making fun of him at all, he was genuinely curious.

"Serannas, Jamie," Sina says, glad for the change of subject, happily leaning into the hug. "And what have you been up to? Did you bring the bag pipe along?" She hopes so. She loves it.

"Maybe - or at least, maybe it has to do with the conditions of being in battle. Accelerated heart rate, adrenaline, that kind of thing." She rubs her jawline with her thumb, thoughtful. "It'd be useful if we could know more about it. I wouldn't say no to a shield I could pull out of the air, myself. Though then again, we don't know its effects on the body, either." She's fairly visibly itching to design an experiment or three, but the sample size is frustratingly small.

While he's not entirely clear on what a sylvan is, from what she's saying he's inclined to think that it's at least got something in common with that weed creature - and if that's so, he hopes that they don't wind up turning up any time soon.

There's nothing close to a weed creature where they are currently, though, and since that's the case, he's also inclined not to worry about it too much at the moment. If they did turn up...well, he'd deal with that then. For now, he simply jerked a thumb towards the extra bag he'd brought with them.

"My bagpipes. They...ah, well, let's just say they're no everyone's favorite instrument, although I like them just fine. I take it you'd not managed to hear me play them while we were back at Skyhold, then?"

If she had squealed in delight, Jamie wouldn't have minded at all...and maybe even secretly found it a wee bit adorable, not that he'd have admitted it out loud. As it is, the excited noise does has much the same effect, with an added pleased smile from the kiss that winds up more or less being directed at the back of her head as she grabs his hand and pulls him towards the blanket. If something like this makes her happy, then he's happy. The fact that she's set up a proper sort of picnic is just an extra bonus - one that actually gets his pleased smile to broaden substantially as her words sink in an his gaze goes right to the very nicely sized basket that's been set out.

"Chicken and roast potatoes? Hey, that's alright!"

More than alright, actually, as he's rather fond of both, and in a matter of seconds he shifts from letting himself get tugged forward to being the one to do the tugging, pausing only long enough to return that kiss to his cheek with one of his own before settling down on the blanket and reaching for that loaf of bread. It looks like it might be freshly baked, too, and unless she stops him, he's more than happy to tear off one end and tuck into it while she gets herself situated - although at least he thinks to get a piece for her too.

"When am I ever not hungry, Hermione? Hope you've not called in too big of a favor, though. Not that I'll not help you eat this, mind, but it's just me, you know."

"My quarters and studies were by the gardens, 'twas peaceful, very little chance of disturbance or chatter carrying." Which is to say that as much as possible, Morrigan was alone if she wasn't required for something or seeking out the company herself, used to such a life, used to just her and Kieran, preferring it that way. "When possible I would venture to the woods, so many people in such a space 'twas...well, now 'tis dearly missed."

She spies her quarry as she speaks, thinking of harvesting winter mushrooms with her fingers numb to the bone and a basket hooked over her elbow, of introducing Ellana to the joys of flight beneath the branches, a chance meeting with the Outsider after making a kill as the spoke about bone when he was troubled not by a raven studying him before she returned to her own shape.

Working carefully, she turns to look at this 'bagpipe' he speaks of. "I have suffered Orlesian bards and their insipid simpering, these bagpipes you speak of cannot be worse than that."

Normally that sort of comment would've stood a good chance of getting him to pull one of his faces, a reaction based on the assumption that whoever was making the comment was trying to poke a bit of fun. There was something about Oghren's tone, however, that got Jamie to pause, at least briefly - and instead of his mouth tugging off to one side, a more thoughtful expression crossed his face as he wound up taking the question seriously.

"Aye, most times, you do, with a couple of exceptions. A kilt's handier than most people think it is, although I can't say as I've much luck in convincing them of that. Then again, I can't say as many people've actually asked me that and been serious, either."

"Aye, it's here. Ah, not here-here," he says, nodding down at himself since he's still mid-hug, which makes gesturing a bit difficult. Still, there's a distinct lack of anything on him that'd be large enough to hold a set of pipes, and hopefully she'll be able to see that.

"They're back in my quarters, although I'm no so sure if I'll be able to find a decent place to play them around here. Suppose I could take them to the Gallows, but..."

He trails off, a faint look of dislike crossing his features. He doesn't care for the place, and even if he could play there in theory, he doesn't really want to.

"I could get the chanter, if you're in the mood for a few wee tunes, though. It'd be a sight quieter."

"Effects?"

That doesn't sound particularly good to him. He knows there's been some effects, of course - it's hard to miss when his hand spits and sparks when he's close to a rift, or the aching that comes after a rift's been shut. But it hadn't occurred to him that the new ability could also have further side effects, and a look of unease crosses his face.

"Do you think that developing something like this is making whatever this mark's doing to us worse?"

"I honestly don't know," she says, mildly frustrated. "It could just as easily be helping; discharging energy or something. It's just hard to make progress when the condition hasn't even existed for more than a couple years and there are so few of us affected. Our biology might even be subtly different from humans native to Thedas, it's not at all clear." One thing she doesn't lack: a detailed list of questions she wishes she had answers to.

Cosima glances down, rubbing her palm absently. "I think, for now, we just have to live our lives as best we can while we research. We can't just sit here waiting to come to a conclusion."

"Can't see why you wouldn't manage to convince them. Gets you air and freedom to move. And if you flip it you have easy access for the ladies." He gave a filthy little laugh there before continuing. "Figured out mages have that sort of advantage too. Quick flip and you're good to go."

He demonstrated with his hands then gave him a grin. Oghren was unapologetically filthy. "So what you doing out here on your own? They sure thought they were getting an easy target. Pheh. We showed them though."

"Only if it's right here," she decides, "it's not a bother." Mostly she enjoys the novelty of the instruments, and can only assume Jamie is proficient with them based on what she's heard.

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What's My Scene

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