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[OPEN] You've got your reasons / And me, I've got mine
WHO: Kit + OPEN
WHAT: Back from the Korcari Wilds, Kit kicks about town finding trouble.
WHEN: Towards the end of August.
WHERE: The Gallows, Lowtown, Darktown.
NOTES: Will update as they become relevant.
WHAT: Back from the Korcari Wilds, Kit kicks about town finding trouble.
WHEN: Towards the end of August.
WHERE: The Gallows, Lowtown, Darktown.
NOTES: Will update as they become relevant.
The Korcari Wilds were strange, and the experiences had within them even stranger. Kit still can't completely shake the feeling of persistent dread that has hounded him since that night spent around the Chasind campfire listening to the words spun for him and the rest of his companions by the shaman. Since his return to Kirkwall, it has been easier for him to eschew the company of the friends he's made since arriving, though he knows it's beyond unreasonable to avoid them forever.
I. THE GALLOWS - TRAINING GROUNDS
About a week after his return from the Wilds, Kit rouses himself early enough to get to the training grounds before the sun has decided whether it's ready to drag itself above the horizon or not. There are a handful of dutiful Templars and other Inquisition soldiers at work there already, either engaging in sparring or in warm up exercises. Kit stands out like the sorest of thumbs among all the humans, but he's used to that.
He heads over to a rack of training war axes and examines them, picking them up to test the heft, then hanging them back up again. Truthfully, he's not even sure what he's doing here without an Inquisition scout trainee in need of remedial lessons to attend to; sleep just wouldn't stay with him.
It's a pity he isn't human; he can't even blame nightmares for keeping him awake.
II. KIRKWALL - THE HANGED MAN
It's easier to lose his money than it is for him to keep it, and he's doing a great job of proving that to himself again tonight. Card shark or not, there's always bound to be a night where even your best poker face isn't good enough, and this is one of those nights.
He's seated at a table near the back of the taproom floor surrounded by a number of other dwarves who, judging by the clean cut of their clothes and their absurdly coiffed beards, are likely representatives of the Merchants' Guild. It's not exactly clear when the stakes of this game got quite so high as to include Kit betting his tiny, exquisite carving of Paragon Hrildan, but that's where he's at now.
He sits very still in his chair, examining the hand of cards he holds in one hand while the other keeps a lit cigarette within easy reach of his lips.
III. DARKTOWN
He ends up in Darktown like it's ten years ago and he's in need of a spell of quiet. The darkness, the stink, the distance people give each other in lieu of making trouble, reminds him with a pang of bitter homesickness of Dust Town, and he almost can't conscience how much he misses it for one shitty moment.
There's a single rickety railing that exists to prevent the idle wanderer from tripping over their own feet and careening down into the depths of the channel leading into the city, and that is where Kit stands, smoking a cigarette and watching the small, distant shapes of the barges as they move through the gates.
no subject
"You can finish what's in there. I've got loads of bottles in my room. Probably the thing I collect the most of. That and puzzles but those are for someone else. Just waiting until I get the chance to send them."
"Puzzles?" Kit repeats, surprised, but takes another swig from the bottle of the potent brew, since it's apparently his to dispose of as he sees fit. He cracks a little grin, though, a little glad for the subject to shift to something less grim. "You like brain teasers or something?"
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He tapped his head when he talked about brains as if emphasize the fact. As if that wasn't already obvious. Oghren knew he was never going to be the brains of any operation which was honestly just fine with him. He liked being the muscle that was sent in to hit things until it died. Yep, that was a real good role for him.
"Lives with his ma across the waters."
no subject
"Lives with his ma across the waters."
"That's great, Oghren," Kit says, and sounds very much like he means it. He almost laughs. "Ancestors--I doubt kids are ever going to be in the cards for me, salroka, but there's something special about watching them grow up. I traveled with this mercenary company bout five years back, and the captain had a little girl. Knee-high to a nug at the time, she loved trying to pick up my axes."
He smiles, eyes gone distant but without the darkness from before. Then he looks back at Oghren, coming back to himself a little bit. "What's his name? Your little guy, I mean."
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After the Warden Jonas Cousland. Sure the man had had moments of being a tosser but he'd done a lot for Oghren all the same. Gave him a chance when the world had given up on him. Twice honestly. After all he'd been all for helping Oghren to become a Warden.
"Warden did a lot for me so I felt like I could honor him that way. Just don't want anyone thinking I've gone soft."
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"Warden did a lot for me so I felt like I could honor him that way. Just don't want anyone thinking I've gone soft."
"Well they won't hear it from me," Kit tells him, then looks back over the railing down to the ships. After a moment, he sighs and starts to push himself back up to his feet. "I should probably get back to the Gallows," he admits.
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"Go on. Hit me up anytime you want a drink or something. Fair warning though. I'll drink you under the sodding table." He laughed after that though something said that he wasn't joking.
no subject
"I'll take you up on that, salroka," Kit said and gave him a crooked grin. He clapped Oghren on the shoulder once, then heaved himself up to his feet. "Take care, eh?"
He turns to leave, spirits a little lighter than they were previously.