faderift | [OPEN] A new world hangs outside the window

Entry tags:

[OPEN] A new world hangs outside the window

WHO: Kit + OPEN; starters for Cade and Benedict
WHAT: Just a catchall kind of post for early September.
WHEN: Throughout early September; sometime after Benedict is removed from solitary.
WHERE: Halfway between Lowtown and Darktown; around the Gallows, generally;
NOTES: None yet, will update as needed.

It's not quite mending broken fences with the people he's most recently pushed away, but Kit has taken some concrete steps towards getting his shit carefully pieced back together after the end of a particularly turbulent previous month.

I. A HOVEL SOMEWHERE BETWEEN LOWTOWN AND DARKTOWN

This is his home turf now:

It's a ramshackle sort of hole in the wall just off one of the too-beaten footpaths leading from Lowtown down, down into the dark; but in the morning, there's still a sliver of light that comes through the window, and that's enough for Kit.

Sharing lodgings with some other Inquisition personnel, while ostensibly the safer option, just doesn't suit him right now. And besides, one can hardly call his existence here lonely. Just about every evening when he comes home, he's got to escort the same blear-eyed drunk out of his dining area; "c'mon, Chuck, we did this yesterday--your place is just down the street a way's, need me to walk you there?" Etc. (Who even knows how the guy keeps getting in.)

Whoever used to make use of this hovel left some of their belongings behind; at present, Kit is setting out old crates of random junk near the street. Already, some of the stuff is being picked through by street kids and other urchins.

II. THE GALLOWS DUNGEON (BENEDICT)

Word reaches him via some avenue that the Tevinter kid has (finally) been removed from solitary confinement and placed in a new prison cell--this one far removed from the magister's. Kit isn't sure how much interaction those two are allowed anymore, and decides that it isn't his mess to sort out or clean up.

The guards don't give him any trouble when he arrives at the dungeons and states the purpose of his visit, but give him straightforward directions on how to reach Benedict's cell. Down the stairs he goes, a freshly lit cigarette tucked into one corner of his mouth, and he wanders down the corridor of cells--some empty, some sporting the odd occupant--until he finds Benedict.

Kit stops just outside the bars and looks in at him appraisingly. "Hey," he says--it's a pretty straight-forward greeting, all things considered.

III. AROUND THE GALLOWS

Whether or not the Scouting Division has staked its claim on specific hours for the purposes of training exercises, Kit has set aside time in the very early morning for taking certain members of the division (i.e., anyone Beleth Ashara has sent his way) through some remedial work. To him, the exercises are fairly basic: fighting stances; weapons and armour maintenance; how best to engage an opponent in close-range combat when one doesn't have the training in close-quarters combat. He'll save reconnaissance and other skills for a time after he's sure his current gaggle of students know enough to keep themselves alive in combat.

Once the training session is over and his students have dispersed, Kit takes a smoke break by the dingy ferry that shuttles Inquisition personnel back and forth between the Gallows and Kirkwall, then heads up to wherever the Other Powers research offices are situated.

[OOC: Please feel free to interact with Kit at any point during this series of events! Want to be part of the remedial training session? Go for it. Want to ambush him for conversation in the mess hall? Ambush away! This would also be an excellent opportunity for him to interact with anyone else who is part of the Other Powers special project.]

IV. LOWTOWN (CADE)

Whomever previously squatted in the hovel Kit has recently begun renting left behind a few belongings that seem too valuable to just toss out like garbage. He gave first dibs to the homeless and the urchins that haunt the roads and alleys near his new place; however, after a handful of days, there are some plates and other bits of crockery left behind that he's got no use for, and evidently no one else in Darktown does, either. Kit won't get much money selling them, but he knows of a place somewhere in Lowtown that will take donations for the poor--or at least, they did so when he was last in Kirkwall, after the Blight.

So that's where he is now, milling around in Lowtown after dropping off his donations (along with what little money he's got left that he can spare). He's ambling away from the front door of the shop when he spots the back of a familiar blonde head, accompanied by some drooping, hunched shoulders that belong to someone who looks so generally defeated by life that Kit finds he recognizes the fellow instantaneously.

He cuts his way neatly through the middling crowd to catch up to him. "Cade, right?" he starts, coming into his line of sight, and offers him an easy-going grin. "How's it going with you, salroka?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Eh. I think I probably felt like going right instead of left and ended up here. Saw you were moving things about and figured this was probably where you ended up living. Seems I guessed right. Heh." He gave a cheesy sort of grin. Sure wandering around and ending up in unsavory parts of town made him look stupid but Oghren had never claimed to be the brains of this lot.

"What's with all these crates anyway?"

He glanced into one of them. Sure was a lot of junk from the looks of it. Probably treasures to the urchins around here so he sure wasn't going to stop them from looting them. Might be able to get a bit of coin for some food honestly.

No stupider than the guy choosing to live in the unsavoury parts of town.

"What's with all these crates anyway?"

"Beats me," Kit says affably, cracks one of them open, and takes a quick look. "Just some junk belonging to whoever last lived here." At a glance, none of it looks especially valuable, but then again, the value of a thing is entirely subjective, depending on who's looking at it. That's probably the reason Kit has set all the stuff outside for the neighbourhood to pick through; waste not, etc.

"Well since you're here, do you want the grand tour?" This, offered jokingly, but he'd be glad enough to show Oghren all two falling-apart rooms in his new abode, if he actually did want to see them. "Unless I'm holding you up, that is."

"Might as well see what you've got up here. I'm thinking it's just a great big room filled with all kinds of treasures in it." They both knew it wasn't but he could join in on this joking business. He was even pretty good at it.

"So let's have it. Show me what we've got going on here."

He knew it was probably simplistic and that was fine. Nothing wrong with simple really. Sweet Ancestors he knew that he preferred that.

Thus begins the tour--Kit shows him in through a front door that's creaking on its last wooden hinge. He pauses by it to give it a dubious testing, eyeing the rusting metal that keep it affixed to the wall. "...well, here's the downstairs."

It's about as bare and bleak as you'd expect for a place to be when jammed halfway between Lowtown and Darktown, but there are at least some windows that let in a little natural light. Against one wall is a wood stove for keeping the place warm in the winter, and for cooking, one supposes. "Sleeping area is upstairs--nothing there yet but a rucksack and a bit of canvas."

That done, he chuckles a little. "There you have it--tour done." He gestures to the front door again.

The tour was just as short as he thought it would be. Still, he pretended to be upset about that anyway, throwing his arms up in mock frustration.

"You sodding nug-licker! Here I thought it was one room and you're living it up with two!"

Buuuuut it wasn't any mock anger over anything one would expect. Nor did it last for long. Soon he was bursting out laughing and clapping the other dwarf on the back. "Come on. I'll buy you some drinks to celebrate you getting your own little hole to crawl into at night. Definitely more than my sorry backside has."

"You sodding nug-licker! Here I thought it was one room and you're living it up in two!"

At Oghren's mock outrage, Kit can only shrug, fighting down the grin quirking up the corners of his mouth. "Well I knew you'd be envious--I wanted to let you down gentle. I'm a nice guy that way."

"Come on. I'll buy you some drinks to celebrate you getting your own little hole to crawl into at night. Definitely more than my sorry backside has."

"I never turn down a drink," Kit answers, chuckling, and then leads the way out of the shack. He doesn't bother locking it behind him--no lock, and, quite frankly, nothing in it to steal just yet.

The rest of the walk to the Hanged Man (because where else would they drink) isn't too remarkable; there's a bit of small talk in there, but Kit's just as glad to meander along in companionable silence while Oghren talks about whatever it is Oghren likes to talk about. Once they get arrive and get squared away at a table, Kit flags down a server for a pitcher of ale.

"So," he says to Oghren while they wait for the drinks, "were you in town visiting Bartab?" Yeah, he remembers that nickname.

"I'd have to go across the water to do that. Haven't had time for a sea trip. Can't just see him as much as I used to back when I was at that rebuilt keep."

A lot had been done with Vigil's Keep over the years. A lot of good really. He'd even trained a lot of new Wardens there as time had passed. However, that seemed almost ages ago now and he smiled when the ale showed up. Pouring some, he took a deep drink of it and sighed. Delicious.

Okay no it wasn't. It tasted worse than nug piss but he wasn't about to be bothered by that.

"Got to find me a good time to get over there."

Oh. That water. Kit's surprise registers visibly on his face, and he immediately looks chagrined. "That's rough," he says, and reaches for his ale once the pitcher arrives. The stuff tastes about as crap as he'd expect.

"'s got to be rough keeping things going with your lady, too." He brings up the subject carefully, like he's segueing his way into asking Oghren a question and just wants to set the stage for it first.

"I made a mess of that a long time ago. Back when I realized I'm the worst kind of father and I tried to help by becoming a Warden. Ran off and joined. She came and found me but it was too late. Just a sodding fool doing sodding stupid things." He sighed and shook his head. "That old girl and I are better off like this. Let's her be happier and have a chance out there. Raise my nugget right."

Oghren looked down at his ale. He knew he was a disappointment and that everyone had a right to look at him like that. He'd more than earned it. More than once. "Tell you the truth on this one. People gave me this hero title and I got to be looked up to. Truth is I'm a miserable drunk that just happens to be good in a fight. Got no real brains for stuff out side of axe swinging and cave stuffing. Even that second one isn't me but that dangle bits between my legs. So things didn't work out with Felsi but I'm just doing what I can so my nugget don't end up like the mess I am."

"Shit, Oghren." Kit lets that oath out because well, after a bombshell like that, how can a guy be expected to say anything less? He frowns at his new friend in the silence that follows, lights himself a cigarette, and takes a drag from it.

Blowing the smoke off to the side, he scratches at the side of his nose, then admits grimly, "I ran off on a guy, too. Pretty sure being a sodding mess is a prerequisite for getting involved in this clusterfuck."

Oghren was quiet for a time. It wasn't like he cared that Kit liked dangle bits or anything. No, the part that got to him was that bit about how he'd run off on someone too. Could've told him it was a woman instead and he'd still be like this. So when he spoke, he looked right at his friend's face to let him know he meant every word of what he was about to say.

"If you like this guy then don't let him be a regret. I loved Felsi but was forced into a marriage with Branka. Then I messed up things with Felsi when things were falling apart with Branka and she went up to the surface. After Branka died I found that old girl again and we even got hitched. Then I ran off and now there's no fixing things between us. I'm going to have live with that now. But it sounds like you may still have a chance at this. So if you can then fix it. Stay with this sod for better or worse."

He's pretty sure no one is ever going to believe him, ten years from now, if he goes around admitting that he's received some of the best advice of his life from Oghren, but that won't make it any less true. Kit looks from his new friend to the ale in front of him; judging by the somber expression settling across his face, he's not quite convinced yet.

"...I'm afraid to tell him about--" He stops himself, but it should be pretty clear to Oghren what Kit's afraid of sharing with Vandelin.

"You trust this guy?" he asked after taking a long swig of his piss ale. Seriously, who drank this stuff? Aside from people like him because he's put almost anything in his mouth. Rock stomach and all that. Had to be after trying to eat some of Felsi's cooking.

"Not just like him or love him but trust him."

"Yeah." Strange to realize that he doesn't have to think about the answer to that question. Kit quirks a lopsided little smile, quiet, and lifts his cigarette to take a puff from it. He breathes out the smoke and glances Oghren's way, then back down at his ale. "Yeah, I do."

"Well if you trust him so much to say it so fast then what's it matter if you're scared? If he's worth that trust then go kiss that sodding backside of his." Oghren gave a pause, thinking about that for a second. Not to question his advice but rather to...

"That is what two men get up to together when they're ready to shake the snakes at each other right?" What? He didn't know!

Kit almost chokes on a mouthful of ale, struggles not to spill it all over himself, and then turns an incredulous look on Oghren. All the heartfelt advice aside--which he truly appreciates and will follow, of course--he, uh, wasn't expecting that. "Maybe we won't, uh, talk about that." Y'know, bro code and all.

"If you say so." The good news was that he liked Kit enough that he'd drop it. Were this another person he'd probably continue to mess with them just to get a reaction. But since this was Kit he figured okay he'd let it go.

But now he had to try to be clever about finding a new topic. Okay well time to fall back to something he was good at. Booze. "This sure tastes like piss."

Like... they're pretty close for a couple of guys who haven't known each other long but have shared a couple of serious heart-to-hearts, but Kit's not sure they're ever going to be that close.

Thankfully, he takes pity on Oghren as soon as it becomes clear he's searching for a new topic. Chuckling, he fishes out a deck of cards from his pocket--a new set, since he left the old ones with Benedict in the Gallows dungeon. Shuffling them, he arches both eyebrows at Oghren. "You play Diamondback, salroka?"

Thank the Ancestors for everything that was Kit. One of them needed to have two brain cells to rub together and it definitely wasn't going to be Oghren. A grin came to his face when he saw the cards, heard the name of the game.

"Ancestors, I haven't played that in a stone's age." He leaned forward immediately. "I'm terrible at it. Haven't got the sodding head for it. Still, always liked that one. Chance is something I've got better luck in than strategy things anyway."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[OPEN] A new world hangs outside the window

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject