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Entry tags:
— (open) do you see it clearer
WHO: Ciri + OPEN
WHAT: In which Ciri is a huge dork about love, is adopted by birds and fights a drunk among other fun adventures
WHEN: Beginnings of August
WHERE: Kirkwall, various
NOTES: Nothing to mention, will update as needed if anything does come up.
WHAT: In which Ciri is a huge dork about love, is adopted by birds and fights a drunk among other fun adventures
WHEN: Beginnings of August
WHERE: Kirkwall, various
NOTES: Nothing to mention, will update as needed if anything does come up.
— ｇａｌｌｏｗｓ.It's not an unfamiliar sight these days to see the ashen-haired Warden practicing in the area segregated off for training. Usually she gets helps from the many of the Inquisition foot soldiers wandering about to practice with or perhaps even one of her mage friends. Today is no different except that the person Ciri is training with is not such a familiar sight on this side of the Gallows, armed with a pair of daggers in hand and holding off the strikes from a long-sword. It's not the usual sort of practice, as Ciri yells commands every so often and follows up with timed strikes from someone who is clearly teaching rather than pushing all of her skill into the session.
Avery, the Inquisition's Head Cook to some, seems to be holding up well under the directions even as Ciri's presses in and invades the other's bubble of space for both closer, faster strikes from her sword. It goes on until Ciri hops back, pushing forward with more strength than intended and the force knocks one of the daggers from the other woman's hands. Instead of steel meeting steel, her blade cuts across Avery's hand and os immediately dropped as blood begins to pour from the wound.
"Shit, shit!" Her sword, usually so well-cared for is forgotten as she reaches out and takes Avery's cut hand into her own. "Maker, shit. Sorry, I wasn't bloody thinking and—"
If Avery was going to speak, it's rather hand with Ciri mumbling and worrying like she is in the present. It probably doesn't help when the Warden chuckles, lifting the other woman's hand and kissing her fingers with a stupid grin. Leaning in with another kiss to Avery's nose and cheek, chuckling despite the grumbles that might be bubbling up inside her companion now.
What a pair of dorks, right?
— ｒｏｏｓｔ.The griffins, much like the Wardens themselves, are a familiar sight around the Gallows. The griffins likely moreso than their fleshy companion if just because it is not unknown to here about some poor servant having one swoop down to steal food or something shiny from their unsuspecting hands. Feathery terrors, the lot of them and Ciri could not agree more with the assessment given to their thought extinct bird children. Especially now that their usual feeding time (already a workout in itself) has turned into Maker be damned play hour instead.
Anyone walking into the roost should be careful of food being thrown because children as Ciri sits in one of the cleaned areas as one griffin needlessly plays with her hair, it would almost be affectionate if not for the fact that she was sure the griffin was only looking through her hair thinking she was hiding more food. Another griffin, one of the... hefty ones, has made a roosting mate of the young Warden. Ciri can only tiredly pet down puffs of feathers, and listens to the happy little calls that almost make you forget they could easily rip someone open.
If you've stayed this long, the new visitor might get a look from both birds and their captive.
"You best have bloody brought them something to eat else they're gonna peck your feet."
— ｈｉｇｈｔｏｗｎ.Ciri takes pride in avoiding fights with the locals since arriving in Kirkwall. After all, everyone had an opinion and Kirkwall was just a powder keg of opinions. Currently, all talk seemed focused on the forest that had sprung up in the place of the former Chantry. Already a place full of explosive opinions, now several times worse and leaving the city feeling on edge as if everyone was waiting for something else to happen to ruin everything.
She doubts it would have been some drunken man, angrily swinging a bottle in one hand and an axe in the other as he gestures wildly at the new forest. He yells about a lot of things, mostly mages and elves with a colorful whirlwind of slurs that leaves her slightly reeling by the sheer number he manages in such a short amount of time. He's gathered a bit of a crowd but most seem interested in just moving along and avoiding confrontation.
Admittedly she is of the same mindset, deciding to leave it to the stationed guard if he went after the forest and continue her walk. It isn't the forest he swings his bottle at though, and instead it smashes at the feet of a small elven woman who cowers as he reaches out to grab her collar. It's in that moment that she decides she can't ignore it before rushing forward. Again, she considers the guards but it's all shoved aside as makes a grab for the man's hand and pushing the woman back.
There's a flash of pain followed by the sharp taste of blood as his fist connects with her nose and mouth. Once more, she thinks of the guards: they could arrest him or something fitting but her body moves before the rational part catches up. Instead the Warden grits her teeth, striking back and throwing her head forward in a headbutt with enough force to spend both parties almost toppling over. Right, okay, no one wins with a headbutt.
Though... maybe someone should hop in before this becomes a brawl?
— ｗｉｌｄｃａｒｄ.For anything not mentioned above! Feel free to find her around the Gallows, along with being found both inside and outside the city. Hit me up through a PM or on plurk at kaldwin if you'd like something set up.
no subject
Waver is well aware that he is being watched by frankly adorably beasts, and it is hard to mistake their curiosity. The idea of hand feeding very sharp beaks does alarm him, so he instead reaches into the bucket to pull out a few bits, then places the same bit down on the ground not too far from his feet.
"I think you could argue that the way to win over anyone is via food. How big are they supposed to become?"
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In response the Griffons, Dumpling and Uggie make happy little noises and get to eating which earns the attention of the other griffons though they are nice enough to not crowd around him. They are, very clearly, still eager though.
"Hmm. Depends, really. Most grow about twelve feet in length, wind spans will be a little longer and they're going to get up to a thousand pounds or more. All we got is old tales, you know? No one alive has actually seen one til now."
no subject
No matter. Those happy noises? Painfully cute. The eagerness of the others? Also cute, but also a little Hitchcock-esque. Waver reaches into the bucket to give them food of their own regardless, honestly and earnestly charmed by their approach.
"It might be worth recording their growth and such then, for future generations and for reference if they go on to have children of their own," Waver said thoughtfully, tapping his chin. "How to Raise Griffons or somesuch."
no subject
Nevertheless, she watches as they all happily get to chowing down as their food is delivered. Even Buggie pauses in her hair treatment to nose at some food instead which allows Ciri a moment to get her long ashen hair back into a messy bun.
"It's a shame Weisshaupt went up in flames with all out important documents, you might have enjoyed all of what the Wardens used to write about the birds and how they helped in the Blights of old."
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"I'm slightly unnerved that you've got me and my desire to read old historical documents down cold," he said with an easy laugh.
"Because I really, really would have enjoyed that."
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It is all said in good nature as she watches everyone come a patiently wait their turn for food. Little monsters they may be, they have been trained well and it shows in times like this. Perhaps they'll be the symbol that they all need to show that everything will be okay. The Grey Warden here were small but they could make a difference.
"Probably wouldn't have let you though, fire or not. Grey Warden secrets and all, fun that whole lot of nonsense."
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If being the key word. Waver's attention goes back to the fluffy bird-like creatures, before he realizes he has yet to ask the most important question of all.
"What are their names? Or is that considered a Grey Warden secret?"
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Like sensing darkspawn, shit dreams and dying in twenty or thirty years. Fun stuff. Ciri glances over to the birds, grinning and shaking her head.
"Nah, no secert there. The two up in your face are Dumpling and Uggie. Buggie is the one making a right mess of my hair and the one cuddled up behind me and missing a wing? That's Buttons, he's something of our mascot since he can't fly and all."
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Waver's actually sure that no one needs that, not even his own school where he instructs, but that's neither here nor there. He was still baffled that everyone wanted into his courses.
"Their names are as unique as they are," he says with a laugh. And they're damn cute names too. "How'd they get their respective and most noble titles? They're definitely surprising names."
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She doesn't talk about him much; Senor Warden Lacroix. A part of Ciri hates him while there is the part that respected him as a warrior. It was a good thing he died before all of this happened, else he might have died a much more painfully heartbreaking death at how everything turned out.
"I'm sure some of us wanted to go the more respectful route, naming them after Warden heroes but these just... suited them more," she says laughing as he hand reaches up to gingerly pet down some of Button's feathers. "It worked out since they like them too."
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It was meant in jest anyway. Waver's not sure what this instructor might have been like, but it seems like a memory best not intruded upon.
"I have to say, they do fit quite well. Are they amenable to me trying to pet one of them, now that I've offered food?"
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Which was putting it... lightly.
"Definitely. The lot love attention, I would just watch out for the Little White Monster. She's a thief of the highest order and will happily abscond with anything that she can get her beak on."
no subject
Cute animal names and very serious professorly types. It was quite the organizational image, to say the least. Maybe if he had been born here rather than fell in, Waver would have gravitated towards the Wardens.
"Something says she'd think cigarettes are disgusting, but duly noted," Waver said with a grin. Since Dumpling and Uggie are the two closest, Waver plays a mental round of eeny-meany-miney-mo, which ends with him reaching out to try and give Dumpling a pat on the head.