faderift | ( closed ) your heart's a mess

Entry tags:

( closed ) your heart's a mess

WHO: Herian Amsel & Cosima Niehaus.
WHAT: Herian heroically comes to Cosima's defence, Cosima is not thrilled.
WHEN: early this month, i thiiiink
WHERE: a tavern in Kirkwall
NOTES: some brief(ish) brawly violence, nothing else as yet, I'll update as necessary.

( Herian is not beside herself with delight concerning the curfew imposed on rifters, or the tensions members of the Inquisition encounter when they walk the streets of Kirkwall. It is reminiscent of too many terrible things, but it seemed so many of them had endured so much that was terrible that it all began to run together; what might have once been distinct ribbons of colour, each worthy of attention and note and detail now just becoming a murky blur of so many ink brushes dipped into water.

She is weary, but so many of them are. It is no excuse not to hold herself to the highest standard, and tha t is what she reminds herself constantly, including the moment she enters the tavern to meet Cosima.

And here's the scene: Cosima, attempting diplomacy, in the presence of three imposing figures whose manners would appear rather less than friendly. Herian is in the habit of watchfulness, and observes as she draws closer, listening. They have realised that Cosima is a rifter, it seems, and were intent on voicing their displeasure with this fact - at rifters, at the Inquisition, at demons, at mages. All manner of ire, and Herian arrives just as one of the men lurches closer, neatly inserting herself between Cosima and the brigands menacing her, as one leans down to his boot - dagger. )

The Inquisition is tasked with protecting Thedas from the perils it now faces, and we both of us are sworn to their service. Threatening a member of the Inquisition and one who works to aid Kirkwall, the Free Marches and the countries beyond is unwise indeed, ser. Perhaps you'd sooner reconsider.

( Her voice is cool, not quite reaching into sharpness. There is a steadyness to it that is in some ways perhaps more alarming than a show of temper.

Suffice to say they do not reconsider. The first lunges forward, a knife in hand, and Herian moves with his momentum, twisting him off course and slamming his wrist down onto the wooden bartop, trapping it there with her hand before driving her opposite elbow into his face, striking a pressure point just below his nose. He buckles, from pain rather than unconsciousness. There are still his two friends to consider—

What a good start to the evening. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The rising tensions in Kirkwall are hard to miss, and Cosima takes reasonable precautions; gloves, native clothing for the most part, avoiding traveling alone when she can and avoiding Darktown entirely. But she's also unwilling to try to lie. She'd be bad at it, for one, and for another she doesns't feel the answer to 'locals find the rifters scary' is to make sure they never have any knowing contact with rifters.

Sometimes, however, even Cosima's laidback patience is no match for someone looking to pick a fight.

Her focus is on trying to defuse the situation, or at least find a reasonable exit route, so she doesn't notice Herian until she's practically on top of them. After that, it all happens very fast. Cosima had been reaching to touch Herian's arm but hadn't quite made contact when the first man lunges. Cosima's hand flies to her mouth instead, as if to catch her startled yelp.]

Guys, stop. This isn't necessary, everyone just...

[No one is listening, are they.]

Edited 2017-11-09 03:01 (UTC)

( Violence isn’t necessary. It is avoidable, is it the last resort. To fight when it is unnecessary is dishonourable. Taking up arms should only be done to protect the vulnerable and the innocent.

Protecting Cosima is necessary. It is honourable.

The second adversary stumbles as the first falls backwards, catching his friend, and it is the third with a green bottle of liquor in hand who moved forwards, smashing it on the counter before swinging it past Herian’s face as he reaches for another bottle to dual wield, the other bottle windmilled to strike at Cosima. Herian does two things: twists, so the strike intended for Cosima hits her shoulder, slashing across tonher collarbone. She absorbs the cut unflinchingly, shallow and stinging rather than dire, but in the motion draws her sword (standard, not spirit) and turns the point against the trio. )

Stand down, and leave this place. I’ve no want to more blood spilled.

Look, look, [Cosima says, shoving her unease down and still trying to good cop this to the extent she can.] Let's put everything down and let me buy you guys a drink, alright? This doesn't need to be a big deal.

[It is arguably already a big deal. They've drawn attention, if nothing else.]

They attacked you.

( Herian casts her gaze over to Cosima, only slightly disbelieving. Cosima is a gentle person, true, but she does not trust the men before her not to attack if they believe it necessary.

Part of her wants to say that Cosima owes the men no such generosity, but it is an act of peacemaking, an elegant departure from the conflict. It is a kindness in the face of cruelty, and there is little more honourable than that. Herian inclines her head, agreeably. )

If these gentlemen wish it so and offer their word not to take up arms against you again, I will make no objection.

( Slowly, Herian lowers her blade. One of the men is still twitchy, but guy number two puts a hand on guy number three's arm, and the broken bottles are set down. Guy number one is preoccupied holding his poor nose, which while not broken, is markedly swollen and painful looking. )

Yeah, I was here, I remember.

[She's not overtly sarcastic, but ... come on.]

Look, there we go. It was a misunderstanding, yeah? Ales all around.

[She moves to go, not shying out of the men's reach. It's a pointed demonstration; she's trusting them. (And, truly, she is trusting Herian still glaring at them with her lowered sword in her hand.) Ale's not alcoholic enough to make scared men bolder, but it's a goodwill gesture all the same.

Would a demon buy you alcohol? OK, maybe. Still.]

( The response makes her brow tick upward, faintly surprised by the response. Still, she lets Cosima do as she will, and as the bottles are taken away by a lingering barkeep, she sheaths the sword.

Herian waits until the men are served, offering a thin smile that is polite rather than sincere, and might seem cautionary more than warm. Low enough for only Cosima to hear, she asks, )

Do you want to remain conversation partners with these new acquaintances, or shall we withdraw to another table?

[Now she does put a hand on Herian's wrist, silently quelling though her facial expression doesn't change.]

I think everyone is ready to just go about their evening in peace now, right guys?

[Assuming an affirmative, or at least not openly negative, answer, she says to Herian,]

They've got to clean up this table anyway, let's go find somewhere else.

[Right now would be great.]

Gentlemen, enjoy your evening.

( Quiet and even, as always, as bows her head respectfully and moves away, to another part of the tavern. There's a table in the corner, and she takes the bottle of wine from the bar, setting it down with a quiet thud on the wooden table.

Now, with that unpleasant business totally done and totally unlikely to have any kind of repercussions, she asks, )

Is all well?

[Her expression fades to something a bit more neutral once they're well away.]

Uh, I'm not great, no. But I'm not hurt, if that's what you're asking.

[It seems unlikely she's in the mood for romance, though she does sit.]

( Herian looks... confused, for want of a better word. Baffled and concerned, simultaneously. )

I am glad you are unharmed.

( And yet there is obviously something wrong. ) What is troubling you, Cosima?

[Cosima lifts her eyebrows at what seems to be Herian's genuine question.]

Are you serious? Three assholes cornered me and then you broke a guy's nose.

[Probably. Still.]

( Herian's head tilts very slightly to the side. The motion is less confused puppy than it might be on other people. Ah, she understands. )

I'm sorry. ( Cosima is still jarred by being cornered, of course, and especially when she has endured some very alarming things already. That makes perfect sense. (And naturally that means none of this is Herian's fault. Right.)
Gently, she reaches to brush her fingers against Cosima's own, if Cosima allows it. )

It is... shocking, to be confronted so unpleasantly. Perhaps they will reconsider the action in future. Regardless, we can depart this place, if it is unsettling?

( Thanks to Herian's amazing intervention, obviously. )

No, [frustrated.] We are going to stay for at least as long as it takes me to drink this ale, because otherwise the story is that not only are rifters weak and vulnerable, but they're also straight-up cowards.

[She doesn't pull her hand away from Herian's, but she makes no move to hold her hand, either.]

As it is, maybe this can be sort of salvaged, though after you broke the guy's nose, that's 50-50 at best.

( Herian has to take a moment to process that. She entirely understands and supports Cosima on the first point, though she would protest that she could be called a coward when she stepped in to peacefully resolve the matter.

The other point is a little more tricky for her to grasp. Her fingers no longer rest against Cosima's, palm pressed flat to the table surface. )

I did what was necessary to protect you, and no more. A broken nose and a warning is a small cost.

OK, sure, in the moment none of them laid a hand on me, but what happens the next time they run into another rifter? Or me, when you're not with me? If they're only leaving us alone because they're afraid the Inquisition's going to swoop in like friggin'...

[... Batman. She was going to say Batman. Instead, she leaves it and changes course.]

If they're only afraid of the person with the bigger stick, that's going to breed resentment. And looking for weaknesses. It doesn't solve the problem.

Is that what you consider me? A bully with a large stick?

( Someone to loom, whose strengths lie in overpowering others?

Herian is thrown. And a little hurt, truthfully. )

Knights protect. Anything less than what I did would have been to neglect the matter at hand.

Jesus, Herian. If I thought you were a bully, I wouldn't be with you.

[Cosima's a bit hurt herself.]

You asked me what was bothering me, and I was honest with you about what was on my mind. If it'd been up to me, no, that's not how you'd have handled what happened, but I never said or meant your intentions were bad.

( Maker.

Herian leans back in her seat, jaw tight. She can see Cosima's point, which makes it all the more frustrating. It was easier when she could be absolute, and there was no room for that, here. After a moment of consideration, she—

actually, for a few seconds she's trying to start talking without actually having any success, sort of wordlessly faltering before exhaling and trying again. )

I am sorry. That was— unfair an accusation as any.

( She's not sure she can bring herself to apologise for stepping in, for defending, but she's considering if there might have been a better path to identify. Probably, dialogue before action, and that's equally galling to consider - that she might have done a poor job as a knight. )

OK.

[It's not great, but it's something. Even if Herian disagrees with her, Cosima would prefer that they disagree on things Cosima actually said.]

Look. It's not the first time in my life stupid dudes have gotten shitty with me, you know? It's not just these three dudes, this one time, though. It's a systemic problem. And I thought I might have been able to make a little bit of progress here, that's all.

Edited (I know how HTML works, clearly) 2017-11-14 00:09 (UTC)

( Herian isn't doing phenomenally at articulating the matter. That is par the course, though; she might be able to think matters through and to stay her tongue, on a good day, but words are still not her strength. She approaches too forcefully, sets down absolutes. She knows the ideals she attempts to live by are naive and foolish in the eyes of many. )

I am not— ( a pause, as she tilts her head and tries to think. ) I am not so able with words as I am with action. I am reminded, often, that I speak in ways that render myself and those ideals I would live by in a less than flattering light. When I am more effective at aggravating or dividing with my words, it—

( But she stops, rubs her forehead briefly before realising what she's doing and dropping her hand to her side.
Controlled, unflinching, that is what a knight should be. She should not attempt excuses, which is what her prior words were starting to sound like, to her own ears. ) My reaction was inappropriate given your preferred method of response. It will not happen again.

Look, if one of them had actually escalated to coming at me with a knife... [She rubs her neck.] It's a question of degree. But I'm not the only rifter in Kirkwall. And I know you're protective of me because you care. That's not a bad thing. I just... it's complicated.

[She looks dismal, a bit, as she takes a sip of ale. This wasn't at all how she wanted the evening to go, and she's briefly and sharply homesick.]

There was a knife in hand, ( just softly stated. It hardly seems as relevant, now, with all else said. There was a knife, and yet she should have done better. Perhaps it is a selfish impulse on some level, a protective instinct turned necessarily fierce, so as to render it something else entire.

It would be a great relief f she’s some notion how to fix this. Not simply do better in the future, but to mend this moment so that Cosima was not so unhappy. Being still and unhappy just makes the awareness of the shallow cut across her collarbone a little more stark, and she glances down to it, the blood largely concealed by the dark material of her shirt. )

Would you prefer me to depart? I... ( She hates how whiny the question could sound, and huffs an irritated breath at herself, how it begs for validation. ) I ask only in case some other company would be more cheering to you, presently. I have... not helped in such matters, today.

Everyone carries a fucking knife in Kirkwall, [she counters, half to herself.]

No, don't go. Not unless you want to. I didn't...

[She rubs her hands over her face, displacing her glasses slightly. The truth is she's tempted to back down, to try to make Herian feel better. But she also feels she's right, and she's not entirely ready to let that go, even to assuage Herian's feelings.]

It's been a shitty night, and sitting here drinking alone until I decide it's time to go home isn't going to make it a better one.

( And it would be unsafe, Herian thinks to offer, opening her mouth to speak and then thinking better of it, instead raising her wine she can steal a taste. It does little to ease the more metaphorical sourness of the situation. )

I don't want to. ( Cautiously, and as one hand reaches for Cosima's, the other gently corrects her glasses. )

A few days past I was made aware that I might— overreact, at times, when it comes to matters concerning the safety of rifters, as another group that might be easily identified and made victims as mages and elves. I dismissed the thought, but with your concerns I wonder if they were not due more credit than I gave them.

( And then there's the matter of being more concerned for Cosima's safety than any other rifters, but that's another can of worms. )

[Cosima turns her hand over so Herian can rest hers on Cosima's palm.]

It's one of the things I admire about you, that you look out for people who need it. It's a problem of degree, that's all. Kirkwall's different, now that we're based here. I've already been told I need to blend in better. I'm already on fucking curfew. But if I can't leave the Gallows on my own now and then, I'm going to go stir-crazy. I need to think it can get better. That people can learn to live with us out of more than just fear of retaliation.

( A little smile flickers, when Cosima turns over her hand. The smile is short-lived, fades away quickly, but it's alright; her hand rests on Cosima's, and its the state of Kirkwall and Thedas and how someone dear to her is treated that steals the smile away again, rather than an issue between them.

Admittedly that's some large scale problems, but large scale problems can be endured all the more easily when not at odds with those dear to you. )

It can, truly. ( Soothingly - she hopes, it's what it's meant to be - she trails her fingertips in slow patterns over Cosima's palm, her wrist. ) It will get better, and you will be free to come and go as you choose. Even if it takes time to get there, I believe it will. We're fighting for a better world.

( Even if Herian thinks that she and her fellow mages would make the world safer by Circles restored, and that would take her from Cosima's side, the potential cost of mages living with no monitoring, no limitations, is too great. She thinks better of laying down that opinion immediately. )

[Cosima looks down, exhaling, as the adrenaline of the encounter and then her spat with Herian begins to ebb. She's still unhappy, but Herian's intentions were good; Cosima's made her point, there's no sense in belaboring it.

You know, it's kind of funny. I've been here long enough that some things have started to feel normal. But even for you guys who aren't rifters... it's not like the state of the world right now counts as normal, either. I guess I shouldn't expect scared people to get less shitty just because the culture is different.

You are too good, Bláithín. I hope we prove worthy of the faith you have in us.

( It’s not like she thinks Cosima is a saint, that would be absurd. She does, though. Think there is something wonderfully idealistic and open minded about her, even if it is worriesome at times, how that open heart could be wounded. )

Our world is enduring many changes. I worry sometimes that we each of us are so driven by our own agendas and wanting and fears that we lose sight of what will make it a better and safer world, rather than simply... unendingly chaotic.

I love how you get "faith in you" from "people are shitty everywhere," [she says, but with the ghost of a smile despite herself.] Change is a given of the universe, though. Entropy, right? But I think we can try to shape change in a positive direction, sometimes. You can't stop a hurricane, but you can plant a grove of trees.

( Herian's gaze drops. ) Perhaps it is my naive idealism.

( A note of dryness in that, but she isn't beyond admitting that sometimes she hears what she wants to, despite her best efforts and intentions. ) I thought more of hoping we might act differently from those in your own world.

( She shakes her head, dismissing her own line of thought. Perhaps it is she who idealises Cosima too much, and puts unfair expectations upon her. )

I'd sooner stop the hurricane, ( said with a great deal of wryness, ) I am a better combatant than gardener.

Or you're just massively stubborn.

[She makes the suggestion with a huff of an exhale, but not without fondness.]

I do think we can make a difference, though, that much is true. I wouldn't waste time trying if I didn't think it was possible.

I am not.

( She says, with deliberate haughtiness, before smiling a little. )

And if you could make the up entirely as you wish, what would it look like?

I think people could get a lot of amazing things done if they channeled their competitive instincts into things that weren't killing each other, [she says, frank, after a moment. It seems like she might stop there, but she doesn't.]

My country and another country spent decades in a cold war for global influence. They were organized under two different economic systems, and both thought the other was more or less evil. Some of that cold war was awful -- families split up, people assassinated covertly, other countries dragged into the conflict as proxies. On the other hand, we built a ship that took us to the moon. And I don't know if we'd have spent the money or the resources to do it if we weren't afraid the other country would get there first.

[She shrugs.]

A world where we could get to the moon without a war, cold or hot, behind it. That's the world I'd want, if it were up to me.

( The first point makes her a little uncomfortable.
I have no love of violence, as she often says, but stays her tongue; this is about Thedas, not herself or defending herself unnecessarily. Defensiveness is neither helpful or warranted, here, and for a moment she wonders if she is more inclined to volatility than she'd care to admit.

Regards, that this world would be bettered by being intent on matters other than killing one another is an improvement she'd hardly disagree with.)

I'm not fully certain what a cold war entails, but a world without wars sounds a place to strive for, with or without exploring the moon.

( Cautiously, ) What of the specifics? The Chantry, the elves and the mages - the countless things we war over.

I think I'm glad it's not totally up to me.

[Her tone is frank. She sits back in her chair a little. She decides against getting into a cold war, at least now.]

Everyone should have self-determination. Autonomy. I know it's not always that simple, but I think it's a place to start. It's complicated, but any large system is. Some calls are easier to make than others, too. Slavery is always wrong. Is monarchy bad, inherently? I don't know -- I mean, my country was founded when a colony rebelled against a king, maybe I'm biased there.

Autonomy, yes... but I think there must be safety measures taken as well. I’ve no argument to protest the absolute immorality if slavery and no desire to try and think of one. Mages though... so many are concerned with our freedoms and liberties, and ignore all the good Circles provided.

( Is she mad? She’s kinda mad, yeah, but not with Cosima, and it’s Herian conversational mad rather than actually visually angry. )

We are capable of inflicting injury and death with our talents, whether intentional or accidental. People who rage about mage freedoms consider only the absolutes, and only what will benefit mages. We must be self-aware and disciplined at every turn, cross examine our motivations. When we are able to set someone alight with our intentions then we cannot afford to be self-indulgent, to set ourselves above all others.

Autonomy's not necessarily anarchy, though, is it? I mean, most of the mages I've met here, no matter what they thought of the circles... it doesn't sound like there's a huge number of them who are pushing for "no rules at all, in any circumstances." I think autonomy is having a say in your own rules, that's all. It could look a lot of different ways.

[She doesn't think they're disagreeing, but Cosima is treading more carefully all the same.]

( Herian sighs, a little on the heavy side, and tilts her head back as she leans against the back of her chair. The posture is pensive, too controlled to be a slouch.

Cosima is right. Cosima, generally speaking, tends to be correct on many things. Perhaps it is easier to hear them from a rifter than to consider them from people stitched into this world, with ingrained agendas. )

I cannot detect any falsehood in that. ( For a moment, she just sounds tired, and resists rubbing her hand over her face in favour of correcting her posture again and looking back to Cosima. There is a very slight smile, but that too is tired and reconciliatory rather than any shape of mirthful. ) You are right. Discomforted as I am by… the dangers that might arise from mages being beholden wholly to themselves and not governed by others, it is not inherently harmful.

Edited 2017-12-01 02:40 (UTC)

You care, [Cosima says, quietly.] Not just about what will happen to you, but about how mages will live generally. Of course you'll be thinking about everything that could go wrong. But from what I understand, a lot went wrong with the status quo, too, right?

[That's not an argument for or against returning to some form of it, really. It's a reminder that the status quo is no more sure a protection than trying something new.]

What is decided as the best way for mages to be governed will effect more than mages. People benefit from us, they can be harmed by us. We are but one element of Thedas, and we span different races and countries. ( She leans against the table for a moment, her voice growing more quiet. )
I worry that agreements, if we are left to them, will be too self-serving and be too hard to ever agree upon, when an Orlesian noble-born human and a Fereldan elf from am alienage are counted as the same, simply due to magic. It assumes a degree of loyalty and commitment, and it crafts the likelihood that the welfare of mages will be the sole priority, when there are so many more who could be effected by the decisions of such a governance. Who amongst mages could be trusted?

( Herian resists the urge to sigh, and instead sips her wine. ) Every living person is worthy of peace and safety. ( Even the Dalish, though preferably that peace and safety would keep them far, far away from her. ) Mages are not the only ones in danger of being made victims, and we certainly are not above tyranny and murder.

( Tevinter is the main example, of course, though there are others. )

Edited (holy tldr Batman ) 2017-12-02 21:21 (UTC)

I mean, anyone with power making decisions affects other people. You didn't ask to be born with magic; nobles didn't ask to be born with a shit-ton of money, for the most part. Nobles may not turn into literal abominations, sure, but they definitely run the risk of turning into monsters.

[She exhales. She wishes she had some weed.]

Your points are fair, I'm not disagreeing. I'm just saying that it's a familiar problem, even though my world doesn't have mages. That I know of. I just think it's worth aiming for a balance between 'not letting you set up tyranny' and 'giving you a real say in how your lives go,' you know?

If there are enough rifters one day, we're gonna have to have some kind of similar talk. It's not like, um, Thranduil and I have more in common than the Orlesian noble and the Fereldan elf, you know.

( She makes, despite herself, a very slight face at the thought of comparing Thranduil and Cosima - one who is respectable but also wrong, and the other who is objectively the best.

Herian makes a quiet sound of agreement and understanding and tiredness (and existential angst, let’s be real), before slowly just leaning forward to rest her forehead on Cosima’s shoulder. It’s not very seemly, and it’s far more than she should allow herself, but she just needs a moment.

So much of the world feels completely beyond her. )

I just want to make the world better than what it was, and what has become of it.

( She feels kind of childish and defeated, truthfully, with this absurd behaviour of hers - even though she is very calm and very controlled, still, by the standards of normal people. )

I think it speaks well of you that it's so much on your mind, [Cosima says, frankly. It's been a long night, and she's wrung out, and disinclined to back down from her initial reason for disliking how Herian handled the situation... but none of that changes how she feels about Herian more generally, and part of her is calm enough to hope Herian knows that.

After a moment, with a shaky laugh:]

Shit, if we were where I come from, this is the point I'd suggest we go home with a bottle of wine, take the rest of the night off, and watch a stupid movie - um. A recorded story, like a play.

[She's suddenly, sharply homesick.]

I've never seen a play, ( she replies, slightly apologetic, before realising her comment was probably incredibly unhelpful. ) I'm familiar with the concept.

( She eases back a little, and gently takes both of Cosima's hands in her own. )

We could go home with a bottle of wine. I cannot promise a play or movie, but... I could read to you?

( Maybe that's a really stupid idea. Is it a stupid idea? She looks a little awkward, for a moment. )

[Cosima smiles a little, tired but genuine.]

I'd like that. I haven't read much fiction in Thedas, so pretty much anything you pick will be new to me.

[None of the things they've talked about are going away but... they're not going away, which means they can put them aside for the rest of the evening. Revisit another time, perhaps, but for now they've probably both had enough.]

Oh? Perhaps we must have a habit of it, then. Introduce you to the literary wonders of our world.

( A gentle smile, relieved to see Cosima's own, and she presses a light kiss to Cosima's knuckles before standing, grabbing their bottle of wine. It isn't full, and she considers it for a moment. )

I can acquire us another, and then we can depart? ( Unless Cosima's good with most of a bottle of wine, that is. )

Please.

[It's been a long evening, and they've lingered sufficiently for Cosima not to feel like they're turning tail and running.

Plus more wine.]

Let's go home.

[Whether or not either of them considers it home is a discussion for another day, or possibly never; here it's shorthand for 'the place we don't have to be in public anymore.']

( She takes only a moment to get the wine, pay more coin, and then they are free to leave. The night air is cool, but at least Herian's skin always runs warm, and she tries not to let worry cause hesitation as she holds the door open for Cosima and offers her arm.

It's fine. A slightly turbulent evening, but now they can relax, and hide away from the world for a while. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( closed ) your heart's a mess

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

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject