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[the_effect_she_has]

WHO: Katniss and You
WHAT: A week in the life of a Mockingjay
WHEN: Covering the first week of Haring
WHERE: All around Skyhold
NOTES: Warnings for possible suicidal triggers via music.

Katniss Everdeen is a young woman who does not like to be idle when it can be helped, especially when she is waiting to know where she can help. So if you are looking for the rather brusque 'Some Other Archer', you will find it hard to miss her.

1. Distributing Food and Supplies Through The Survivors

Skyhold has literally become the pilgrimage of hundreds who are seeking to flee from Corpheysus's reign of terror, who are looking for balance in a world gone mad without a Divine, or have lost their homes in one of the many wars blossoming across Thedas. Many of them came without a stitch on their backs, or food to feed themselves -- or their families.

Yet, in the last week, a tall young woman with serious grey eyes and dark hair braided along the side of her head has been handing out provisions - fresh meat mostly, and cleaned leathers and warm furs. Candles, cooking fat, and there are even healing poultices, simple things. She asks for nothing in return, and thanks makes her nervous -- but she is there almost every day to offer assistance where she can. Children make her easier - she brings them necklaces made of leather and small stones, and little toys made of bone.

Do you meet here here or ...

2. Outside in the training areas outside of Skyhold

Someone has taken the time to set up what can only be considered a crude archery training area, out of old barrels and crates, with targets painted on. But it's not just straight targets and dummies, no. It's practically an obstacle course - with the targets being at different heights, and various objects that one had to move around to get a clear shot. It's not just a test of accuracy, it's one of agility and of quick thinking.

Katniss trains here every day, practicing her shots in a dozen different scenarios. Up high, down low, jumping and rolling out of the way to make a shot. Shooting and moving at the same time, weaving between targets. She wants to challenge herself, that's clear enough. Against what? Everything, apparently.

Want to join? Want to gawk? Want to take your barrel back? Come and speak with her, unless you want to speak to her ...

3. Alone On The Ramparts

It's the song that will capture your attention. A beautiful, clear female voice will echo down to you as you climb the stairs to the ramparts, perhaps to go on guard duty. Perhaps only to see the stars. Yet while the voice will make you smile, perhaps, the song itself might just chill you down to the bones.

Or at least wonder who would sing such a song.

"Are you, are you?
Coming to the tree
Where they strung up a man they say murdered three
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where the dead man called out for his love to flee
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where I told you to run, so we’d both be free
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where they strung up a man they say murdered three
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight in the hanging tree..."

If you go hunting down the voice, you'll find it soon enough. Katniss is sitting with her back against the ramparts, looking up to the sky and singing upwards to the stars. As if she is trying to reach someone with her voice that she just can't seem to get to.

Will you come and sit with her, or pass by?

Comments

2

[serannas]

Now in possession of a new staff blade at the end of her staff, Ellana needs to practice with it. It's an added weight and adds height too, so she wants to be comfortable with it before facing any enemies again. Yet she's aware that not everyone will look kindly on a mage practicing her magic in front of them, either because of their own prejudices, or simply because magic makes them uncomfortable. If she were in a group all practicing magic together, it would be different; people could just move away if they didn't want to see it. But by herself, she thinks it better if she finds a quiet space to practice.

And that's when she finds the archery set up. The targets will work well enough for a few of her spells. She's certainly not going to set them on fire or anything like that. Mainly, she's focusing on the new weight of her staff and how to swing it to make use of the blade, should anyone come into melee range. She's only at it for around twenty minutes before she sees Katniss approach with her bow.

"I was wondering when I would see some archers turn up," she says pleasantly as a greeting. "I'll move out of your way."

Re: 2

[the_effect_she_has]

Katniss herself has her bow over one shoulder, and several quivers filled with arrows with her. She paused herself, as she saw the mage - Dalish mage standing there with her staff out, blade glinting in the light. She raises an eyebrow, but her shrug is light as she continues to move forward into her training area.

"No need to on my account. Always glad to see a mage learning how to keep their spells going in the right direction." She looks at the targets critically, and made a quiet noise of approval, "No fire. Thanks."

[serannas]

"Oh, I didn't want to ruin anything," she replies, eyeing the targets. "I have a new staff blade, so I'm mainly practicing with the added weight as opposed to going through all my spells." She looks over Katniss's bow and all her arrows. Ellana has never paid too much attention to what the clan's hunters carry. Or, at least, not anymore. She once was in love with a hunter and she knew what his bow looked like as it lay discarded off to the side while they fooled around, but she is by no means familiar with archery.

"Are you a hunter? Or, I mean, ordinarily a hunter. The Inquisition has us filling new roles, doesn't it?"

[the_effect_she_has]

"Well, it's not like they would be much of a loss. I took these all from places where people were piling up rubbish." Katniss snorted softly, as she put the quivers down, hooking one on her fingers to swing over her other shoulder. Any hunter will tell you that you should bring several quivers and store the extras in a safe place so you can have access to them once you've used up all those in your quiver.

However, if you are having a bad enough day that you haven't caught anything with one quiver of arrows -- perhaps you shouldn't be hunting that day to begin with.

"I was." Katniss rests her bow on the ground, giving the staff a thoughtful look. "Do you want to test some of your spells?"

[serannas]

The question makes Ellana smile a little. If Katniss was uncomfortable with magic, she wouldn't be giving her the opportunity now to use it, would she? It's good to find so many who have no problems with it, or at least trust her not to misuse it.

"I could. I'm Ellana, by the way. I haven't seen you around before, but I did just return from the Fallow Mire."

3

[gatheringstorm]

The voice certainly catches Korrin's attention, since not many people tend to sing at the ramparts...unless the tavern is closing for the night, but the singing that happens then is hardly pleasant. This voice is obviously different from that usual nonsense, so she follows due to idle curiosity and generally feeling restless. Upon spotting the vaguely familiar girl, she pauses to listen until it's done.

"Rather morbid, but you have a nice voice." She nods in approval, not judging so much as just blunt. It's just the way she is, and not likely to change any time soon.

Re: 3

[the_effect_she_has]

Katniss jerks a little when she hears someone speak just off in the darkness, and she frowns. That frown fades into a look of astonishment as the tall - good god tall woman appears, with horns coming out of her head.

Qunari. She's heard the stories, of course, and when she was in Redcliffe as a child she vaguely remembered a tall, stern looking man with odd-colored skin. He had traveled with the Hero of Fereldan. Later on someone had told her that man had been a Qunari -- but she had been ten then. She thought she had been imagining how tall they were.

...Apparently, she had not.

"In a morbid sort of mood." Is her reply, finally, "But, thank you, I suppose."

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin's seen that look a far amount, especially among rifters, so she takes it in stride. She's not as tall as Sten himself, but easily a head and shoulders above most human men. Her face is far more expressive, though, and she smiles, nodding.

"It's not often I hear singing from the ramparts...well, singing that isn't some lewd or silly drinking song. Nothing wrong with a change of pace. Are you one of the new agents, then?" Or has Katniss been around for a while and Korrin just doesn't remember? Given her back-and-forth with the Fallow Mire, it's possible.

[the_effect_she_has]

One corner of Katniss's mouth twisted, as she tips her head back a little. If she listens hard enough, she can hear someone singing such a song below. "There does seem to be a lot of calls for 'Nuggins' around here, I suppose."

She looked at her fingers, clasped at her knees. "I am. Well, I will be hopefully. I am up for being a scout."

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin chuckles as she catches some of that song below as well and moves to sit down, giving Katniss plenty of personal space. It's easier -and probably less intimidating- for her not to be looming over the girl while they talk.

"Good on you, we need as many scouts as we can get. Harding will be the one to decide all that, but as far as I know -and have been told- she has a good head on her shoulders. I'm a mage, not a scout, but I know and work with far too many not to know about her."

1

[salvatore_underfoot]

When he's not keeping busy with his own interests, Salvatore helps out with the rebuilding efforts. That usually means supply runs and other menial tasks, as he's proven rather uncoordinated with tools, and not strong enough to do any of the heavy lifting.

Today, he's been tasked with bringing a pile of blankets down to a group of survivors. They aren't in great condition. Most of them are just unusable clothes patched together into rough blanket-shapes. But anything is better than nothing.

He's a little surprised to see someone else already down here, doing and hell of a lot more than just dropping off a bunch of crappy blankets. He puts on a smile and skips right up to her, figuring she'd have a better idea what to do with them.

"Hey. I have some blankets here. Know where I can put them?"

1

[the_effect_she_has]

Katniss is finishing up a low conversation with a young mother, showing her how to use the leather wrap around the fur-lined cover she made for her young baby. It was something her father taught her to make - it sold well in winter and was easy enough to construct. She shows the mother where it buttons, shakes her head at the fervent 'Oh Maker bless you ...' before she rises.

And takes in the rather chipper young man before her. She arched an eyebrow, but the blankets would be useful ... "Yes, follow me." She jerked her head a little. "There are some families here with younger children who can use them, and a few with older relatives. I'm surprised, I didn't think there were any blankets to spare."

[salvatore_underfoot]

"From the looks of them, we're scraping together what we can from what we have." He feels guilty now for trading one of his better blankets for a book while down in the Mire. He follows dutifully behind her, checking around for anyone else. "Were you assigned to do this alone?"

[the_effect_she_has]

"Ah ... well, something is better than nothing." She took some of the blankets from him, gesturing him to a group while they walked where he could give out some of them.

She blinked at the question, before she snorted in answer, "No. I'm doing this because I wouldn't have thought much of myself if I didn't try to help saves lives.."

[salvatore_underfoot]

"I see. That's good of you." He flashes her a cheery grin before veering off to deliver the blankets to the people she indicated. He chats up everyone he stops off at, hoping to coax smiles out of the weary and cold survivors and accepting their thanks with no humility whatsoever. When he's done, he bounces back to her. "I see why you do this. It lights a flame in your heart, doesn't it?"

3

[wontforgetyou]

It's the singing that draws him in. At first, it's the voice more than the words, but even without being able to pick everything out, it's enough to spark his curiosity and send him off in search of the singer. When he does manage to find her, he pauses a few feet away to listen quietly, not wanting to disturb her until she's done.

It's only after that that he cautiously approaches, the glow in his hand marking him as one of rifters - and his clothing as a stranger, even though his accent makes him sound remarkably like someone from Starkhaven. The smile on his face is friendly enough, though, even if the darkness makes it slightly harder to spot.

"Can't say as I've heard all that many songs like that lately. Is that something from around here, if you don't mind my asking?"

Re: 3

[the_effect_she_has]

She sees the glow before she sees the man, and her eyes don't widen. They narrow - for this is the second such shard she has seen. A Rifter, they were calling them. People who were not from their world. The clothes alone probably would have given him away anyways, but still.

She gives him an even look, before she sighs and looks up to the sky once more "No ... it's something of a taboo song in the Hinterlands. My father taught me."

[wontforgetyou]

It's not the first narrow-eyed look he's gotten since he's fallen through the rift, and it likely won't be the last, either. While he can't say as he's overly fond of them, he knows they're not going to go away any time soon, at least not when it comes to the average person. At least the people in charge here seem to be a little more accepting now that he and some of the others seem to have figured out how to get those rifts closed, so that's something, anyway.

And with that look towards the sky he can guess that maybe her father's not here at the moment, although he has no idea if it's just she's here and he's somewhere else or if it's more to it than that. That's maybe not really his business, though, and he decides now's not a good time to ask that sort of thing. Instead, he nods just a little to acknowledge what she's said.

"Ah, well, suppose that makes sense. I've not really gotten the chance to figure out everything here just yet, although at least I can understand what it's like having your father teach you songs. Mine did that for me, too, back home, although it wasn't singing, in my case."

His eyes flick up to the sky as well, something a bit wistful reflected in his expression for a few seconds before he shakes it off and looks down at her again. "Would you mind if I joined you for a bit? I could do with sitting somewhere that's maybe not got so many people in it right now, if you've no objections to a bit of company."

[the_effect_she_has]

The narrow-eyed look is less suspicious, and more contemplative, because she doesn't scowl at him. Instead she brushes her hair out of her face, and then shifts over so that the young man could sit near enough to her that it was clear to anyone passing that they were sitting together.

Pulling her knees up to her chest, she leaned her chin against them, "My father taught me many songs, and a great deal of other thing. But nights like these? When I am walking alone in my own head? I like to sing the ones he would sing while the fire lay low."

She tipped her head back up, her voice quiet, "What did your father teach you, in your world?" A simple question, but one that allowed him to speak of what he was missing, if he liked. She had learned from Airy that the simple act of asking about it meant a great deal to these strangers.

[wontforgetyou]

When she moves over, he gives her a brief smile by way of thanks before going over to settle down in the space provided, adjusting his kilt as he does so. As she goes on, his head winds up tilting to one side - and then, a few moments later, he gives her a small nod.

"Aye, I can see that. It's a bit like having them back again, even if you know it'll never be the case."

His own expression turns a touch contemplative then, and it seems for a second or two that he might wind up doing much like she's done and retreat into his own thoughts. But her question pulls him out of it, and he's maybe a little grateful for that. It helps, and the small smile that was on his face earlier comes back briefly.

"There's an instrument in my world called the bagpipes. Our family's been playing them for...och, I don't know. Generations, as far as I know. Seems like we McCrimmons have always been pipers. When I was little, he taught me, just like his father had taught him before that. He taught me other things, too, mind, like how to use a sword, but that wasn't exactly the same thing, if you know what I mean."

[laurenande]

Skyhold was an old place.

At times, the atmosphere was a comfort, as though Thedas were trying to provide her a foothold amid so much strangeness, but that did not always hold true. Unfortunately, the appeal in the old was simple nostalgia, and the appeal of nostalgia lay entirely in rosy moments and fleeting fondness. When the breath of the ancient stones combined with a quiet, peasant dirge, however sweetly sung, they were stripped of their appeal. In short order, the ageless ramparts of Skyhold were reduced to little more than lifeless stone crumbling beneath a foreign sky.

Galadriel had been drawn to the song as a moth was drawn to flame; it was the way of elves and an impulse she had not thought to challenge. When she came upon the walls, close enough to hear the voice with clarity, she slowed to a halt. She lingered at the base of the old stairs, obscured in the gloomy shadows they cast with the moon's light thrown against them, and listened in somber silence.

It was a strange and plainly spoken song, unadorned and repetitive, and it sunk into her bones with startling ease. There was a simplicity to it, a mindless quality that let it repeat without end, and that perhaps was the point. When the singer took up a second round, before she could think better of it, Galadriel joined in the singing.

"Are you, are you?
Coming to the tree
Where they strung up a man they say murdered three
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight in the hanging tree..."

[the_effect_she_has]

Katniss turned towards the voice - because it had a clarity of tone that just seemed ... otherworldly. She stared at the white vision before her, standing up straight with wide grey eyes. She swallowed, hard, before she whispered in Elvish, "Evanari? Sylaise, ma Mamae?"

She could not imagine Sylaise looking like anything but this - a glorious elven woman clothed in white, with hair so pale golden it glowed like silver in the dim light of the torches. Moving as if she did, in fact, tread atop the air.

[laurenande]

Galadriel trailed into the next verse before she realized herself and fell silent. At once she found herself face to face with the woman who'd been singing the dirge that still persisted in the back of her mind. She stood, wide-eyed and torn between either horror or awe, but her voice didn't waver as she asked her questions.

The words she said weren't Common, not so far as Galadriel knew, and their meaning evaded her entirely.

She had interrupted something, that much was clear, and Galadriel's somber expression took on a measure of apology. She pressed her hand over her heart and bowed silently before she spoke.

"Ánin apsene," she replied in as quiet a tone as this woman had employed. "I have always been drawn to song, especially those that are sorrowful. It was so simple to carry it as well...but I should not have. It is not mine to sing."

Galadriel drew herself back up and lowered her hand to her side. There was a soft sympathy on her face, then.

"Who is it that you mourn with so...unique a dirge?"

[the_effect_she_has]

Katniss felt heat dash across her cheeks - no, no, of course this was not some goddess come back to help her people. How ridiculous could she be, how childish? The gods were ... long ago locked away. They ere not coming now.

"No I ... I am sorry. I thought you were - nevermind." She swallowed, folding her arms over her chest as she looked off. Her features tightened, with anger and with grief. "...It is ... not a dirge. It is a memory. A dark song my father liked to sing to us, to calm us before bed. I suppose if I am mourning anyone tonight, it is he."

[laurenande]

It was a surprising description, if only a short one, and Galadriel's confusion danced across her features. Sad songs were not rare, especially among the Eldar, and they were often sung for recreation...but to sing one so dark to children? To usher them to their sleep with a warning dirge? That was strange enough that it came as a shock.

Galadriel was silent a moment. Perhaps the notion that it was a lullaby had addled her, that or her curiosity had overwhelmed her tact, but she did not offer the woman her condolences. Instead, she asked a question that was, quite possibly, not entirely appropriate.

"...Singing about hanged men and their lost loves worked to calm children?"

There was no judgment in her tone, she was merely mystified, as though the very concept were one she had never considered. Truly, she had not, and as her expression turned contemplative she added, quietly.

"Your father must have had true talent," she said. "I would guess that you have inherited it. Your voice is lovely."