y'all a bunch of nerds

[tactical_alert]

WHO: Malcolm Reed, Leonard Church, all y'all
WHAT: Monthly catchall things
WHEN: Over the month
WHERE: Around Kirkwall
NOTES: n/a for now

Church has moved in with Christine, and it's...kind of weird. Not bad weird, mind; he rather likes the domesticity in ways he hadn't expected. A sure bed every single night that is also actually a bed. Living with a little yappy dog that wouldn't even qualify for a football. He's used to coming home to the same place every day, had done so in the Gulch, had done so outside of it. Still...it's...odd.

So he can be found, when not on duty, around Lowtown on occasion, at the cheap shops set up. He hasn't had a whole lot of reason to spend his money until now, for the little things. Bits of cobbled together furniture, or a few plates, or a heavier blanket. Winter's on its way, even if they're not in the mountains.

He can also be seen studying, a few books in his arms, some from the Inquisition, some spied or asked about from town. Even taking notes. He doesn't think he'll break any new ground on the rifts or the shards, but better to dig in himself. If they don't have any non-Venatori experts on the subject, then they'll just have to make themselves experts. (The pros of dating a healer: any time he finds the ache in his hand to be more than a little distracting, the pain can be soothed back down to a tolerable level.)

(It's getting slowly worse over time.)

(He hasn't said as much to Christine.)

Though the excitement over the impromptu duel at the docks with Christine's would-be suitor has dropped significantly, he's still a known figure to those who were present for it. He's gotten passably proficient with a sword, but a rapier? Well, it can't hurt to learn more than one way to injure someone, right? So when he isn't practicing with his sword--god forbid he ever give the crossbow another try in a much more crowded area--then he's borrowed a rapier to try and teach himself the basics.


Malcolm has been in something of a sour mood, though to those who know him less than well, it's hard to tell he's any different from normal. As a Seeker, he's more than used to being the stern bearer of bad news, to grit his teeth and take on weight. Between Jonas, Cade, the perversion of the memorial garden, the Venatori mage that got away for the sake of saving others, not to mention whatever correspondence he finds himself in charge of, as well as more, he's found that he's been more on the downswing than he's been in quite some time. He doesn't believe in luck, but he does feel he's due for a turnaround here.

Still, he spends time while in the city where he needs and on occasion where he isn't needed. The stables and kennels are a normal haunt for him, taking Charles out for a trot outside the bounds of street and wall, or making sure Milady gets her training and play and socialization in. If he isn't caring for his horse and making sure the stable hands they've hired are taking their job with the utmost seriousness, then he's softened around his poodle companion, a little grooming, a little fetching.

There are several evenings as the sun goes down that he spends by the docks, taking in the sea breeze and the squawk of seagulls while he signs off on some shipments, chats with a few scouts that seek him out specifically to report on how people in the city are reacting, or even brings documents with him to peruse while seated on a crate or barrel. Never too close to the water's edge, though.

In the very early mornings, he tries to keep as regimented a schedule as possible, every single day. Pray, first thing. A light nibble, usually plain, something simple like oatmeal. A workout to hone and strengthen the muscles, the senses, and then training on dummies or sparring with another early riser. He doesn't like being interrupted with other duties at this hour, but if it's something he must attend to himself, he will. And then a quick wash up before he finally attends to the day proper as the city rouses itself. It's a very familiar pattern to anyone who had seen him keep such a schedule in Skyhold.

(And occasionally finds him shirtless and glistening, for those who might care to notice such a thing.)

Comments

[tactical_alert]

"We worked alongside Ser Norrington when Cade's issues first became apparent, and an outcome agreeable to most was worked out. It's unfortunate that he hasn't improved, and a shame that he had to be removed for everyone's safety, but this is, unfortunately, another area where Seekers come in. When Templars cannot manage their own ranks."

Granted, usually it's when they've truly gone rogue, or are abusing their powers, or are heading down the road that leads to types like Meredith. But this is just as well.

If he swings his false sword a little harder than usual, it has nothing to do with the fact that this is an argument that hits far too close to home for his liking. "If the Templars have such an issue with the edict, then perhaps the Order would care to ignore said edict. Maker knows enough Seekers and Templars have broken away from their original intentions that it would hardly seem like anything more than following a set precedent, hm? We could always dissolve the Orders as they stand entirely, seeing as we are all members of the Inquisition, something I daresay is greater than either side at this point. Is that what you would have us do?"

[paladingus]

"Are those the only options you can think of? You'd rather see us all cut loose and set adrift than--" Than reformed into something that doesn't give you the power of life and death, he doesn't say, because he can't afford to escalate like that. This wasn't wise. He should never have spoken.

"Listen," he says, his voice undercut with a faint note of desperation. "I know this is never how it was meant to be. Obviously it doesn't work the same way when there are two of you and a handful of us as it did when the Chantry was at its full strength. I want to see it all restored someday, templars and Seekers and all, just as badly as any knight of the faith does, but--I don't know how we're to go about that without the power of the Inquisition."

[tactical_alert]

"Don't you think that is precisely my point?" He gestures around them with the practice sword. "I would love for all of us to get back to the full measures of our duties. We can't do that without the Inquisition. We can't do much of anything without the Inquisition, given that the Inquisition is going to save the bloody world from itself. What if that means setting aside Templars and Seekers for now? Just because Cade can't think of a worse punishment than what's been handed to him doesn't mean the rest of us will shrivel up and die at the idea of hanging up those responsibilities for a time."

[paladingus]

"But then who would do the parts of them that still need doing?" he asks. "The Circles may be gone, but we can't just let mages run roughshod because of that. How do we fight the Venatori without templars? What happens to the lyrium trade? That may not be a problem for you, but it's still a concern for most of us. The problem isn't the responsibilities themselves; the problem is that we're trying to overlay a structure that doesn't exist anymore on top of a new one that we're just as obligated to."

[tactical_alert]

"No longer using the name or structure of the Order does not negate the power Templars have against mages, or in this case Venatori. The blood mages and other sorts that might arise without being Venatori? Can still be dealt with under the banner of the Inquisition. Am I no longer capable of what I do because I may simply stop using the title of Seeker? And lyrium has far more uses than simply fueling the Templars."

This isn't a conversation he expected to have at all, much less with Simon. The thought has occasionally crossed his mind, but never been spoken aloud. "If structure is the problem, then it needs restructured. Do not think I did what I did to Cade lightly. This is about the fact that he has habits that haven't improved, not this one incident. We intervened. Remaining as he was, it's only going to get more people hurt and him killed, if not others, if he continues as he is. He's just going to have to find his own way, but the point is that nobody else seemed to be doing anything about it. We are doing our jobs. But perhaps that's not something that's going to work in this environment, in this...roughshod group of delinquents and nobility and everyone in between against the evils of the world. With Chantry leadership in shambles and collectively looking unfavourably on the Inquisition, that we work with and for directly, what if we are being pulled in two different directions that cannot be reconciled, despite our attempts to make peace with the Chantry?"

He'll have to bring it up with Wren more specifically, once he has his thoughts more in order instead of blathering on at Simon about the issues. They can't just abandon the Chantry, of course not, but what if they are to leave these disciplinary decisions to the Inquisition leadership instead? There is organisation in place, why not use it?

Because it's hard to let go of what they are. He worked hard and sacrificed quite a bit more than he's willing to admit to become a Seeker of Truth. He wouldn't take it so poorly as Cade to lose that, even if only temporarily, but he'd rather cling to it as hard as he can because it's authority and identity all at once. Who do they become without it?

[paladingus]

"Yes, I know lyrium is good for other things. I've spent my entire life in the Circles since the minute I came of age." He can't quite curb his instinct to lash out there--he may be a hothead of no rank or renown, he knows, but he's not an idiot. And perhaps this seems an odd, insignificant part of Malcolm's musings to latch onto, but it sticks with him nonetheless.

"But how easy will it be for us to come by if we don't even have what little's left of the Order's name and power anymore? I don't know who's negotiating for it here, but I doubt they'd thank us for making their job harder if the traders were to smell blood in the water." Whatever admiration Simon holds for the Seekers, whatever mingled envy and awe had made him until recently think better of them than most, it comes from their freedom from those chains he can't escape. He respects and detests them for it at the same time, knows with aching certainty that he could never have attained that level of discipline and simultaneously feels all the more compelled to push back against the absoluteness of their authority.

But even if his path to the idea is roundabout and very different, Simon finds himself more or less in agreement with what Malcolm suggests--and in complete concordance with everything he fears. Authority and identity are all they have left, for what little that is still worth.

"I can't help but be afraid that if we were to disband...even if we meant it to be temporary, we wouldn't have the chance to go back," he says. "Either the reformed Chantry wouldn't have us, or...something else would go wrong, and we'd just be on our own for good. For now, it might well be better for us all to be absorbed into the Inquisition, it really might, but--if we can't take it back someday--"

[tactical_alert]

"We've traders among the Inquisition and those with very quick-witted tongues. If they can't negotiate properly for the sake of our Templars and mages, then they aren't any good to us as a trader, are they?" It's frightening, in a way, to realize how little control they have sometimes. That while there are systems in play, while the Inquisition is a growing entity getting more powerful and hasn't (yet) fallen apart under its own weight, it means trusting others to do what needs done.

He sighs, placing his practice blade back on the rack and leaning on it. "I don't know," he admits, "what would happen then. The Chantry still, I believe, recognizes our groups because we use the titles, show our respective skillsets, but I answer to the Lord Seeker--missing in action for long enough that, were she willing to take the title, I would see Cassandra in the position instead--and to the Divine directly. With no Lord Seeker and no Divine, even I do not know to whom I am beholden. Who do you answer to, and who, then, do they answer to?" At least the Templars still have their ranks, even if they might go nowhere. At least there are Templars out there who will be able to reassert themselves, so long as the Red Templars are eliminated and the world is restored.

"There are three of us."

He says it with such vehemence that it even takes him aback, a show of vulnerability that he quickly tries to cover up, straightening, focusing, deep breath in--

"In all of Thedas, there are three Seekers of Truth that we know of, ever since the Lord Seeker swanned off with the rest to parts unknown. They may all be dead. I've heard no news in these years. Nothing. We have our hopes, and we pray for a good outcome, and in the meantime, we do our duties as we know them to be as if nothing has changed. Can you have an Order with just three people?"