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

[motherfucking_ghost]

"...Right, the thing that was gonna kill you, but now not, because spirit healing, yay? Was it like--was it some sort of damn Jurassic Park bullshit where if you don't get such and such you'll die, or like, if you live to a certain age, that's the end of the experiment? Or just a side-effect of a lot of god damn surprise cloning?"

[youwonscience]

"I mean, I'm not cured," she says, exhaling. "But if I go see the spirit healers a couple times a month, the symptoms stay at bay." Cosima twists a rung around her finger, absently.

"I was working on trying to identify it, back home. But I know it attacks epithelial tissues - organ linings, specifically lungs and uterus at least. We're infertile, probably by design, and whatever the disease is probably affects our immune systems. But hey, every other week someone waves their glowing hand over me and I stop coughing up bl--" She seems to catch herself, surprised to find she's actually upset when she'd been intending to make a joke. She's spent months, nearly a year, downplaying. But she's not entirely sure she'd have lasted another year if she hadn't come to Thedas, and suddenly talking about it now, her hands are treacherously shaking a little.

"Shit, sorry," she says, quietly, and wishes she had a joint to roll to have something to do instead of just clasping them together. "Sorry."

[motherfucking_ghost]

They're friends, certainly, but Church wouldn't say they're, y'know, super close or anything. But damn it, Church might be an asshole, but he's not that callous. He reaches out and covers her hands with his own.

"Shit, I didn't know. I'm...glad this magic shit helps. I don't understand it, but who am I to knock a good thing, huh?" Christine helps when his hand acts up and all the other injuries that pop up, but he doesn't start coughing up blood on a regular basis. "Guess there's no good way to keep up that kinda research when you don't have access to microscopes and shit."

[youwonscience]

"Yeah," she says, a bit shakily but managing a smile. "Honestly, I try not to think about it too much. So I guess the anchor shard thing is kind of lucky, really. Distraction research."

She doesn't pull away, though, grateful for the comforting gesture.

"Sorry, didn't mean to dump all that in your lap. I really do feel OK most of the time, though I try not to go on field work unless at least one healer's going anymore. Just in case." Since she had the bad habit of getting imprisoned, flung into the future or otherwise detained when she went too far afield.