faderift | [CLOSED STARTERS + OPEN] Month long catch all

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[CLOSED STARTERS + OPEN] Month long catch all

WHO: Christine + closed starters + OPEN
WHAT: Meeting new people and catching up with friends/acquaintances throughout Firstfall
WHEN: spanning the entirety of Firstfall whenever convenient for you character
WHERE: The Gallows, the docks

{ open to all: wildcard option }
Christine's schedule rarely deviates. She arrives at the Gallows in the morning, heads to the kitchens for tea, then her office where she spends a few hours. If it's a red lyrium research day, she can be found heading towards the basement where they have a warded laboratory for experiments, though no one except her team is actually allowed inside, so you'll have to catch her on the way. If it's not such a day, she heads to the infirmary and heals patients for several hours as well. Add in lunch and moving between rooms and buildings to see people, and she's pretty easy to find.

{ closed to adalia }
The day dawns foggy with a crispness to the air as people awake and attend to their duties at the Gallows. For Christine, it's an early morning trek from her house in Lowtown to her office in the central tower, but today she stops first at the infirmary to see to her patients from the day before. The fog closes in around the island and she steps out from the infirmary, producing a small wisp of light that she sends out ahead of her to light her way to the tower. Along the way, she nods politely to those she passes, well aware that some still don't like seeing a mage perform magic openly.

Though she has reports to read in her office, she's in no rush to start, and will be making herself a cup of tea before she dives in. That time can also be used for conversation, should anyone need her.

{ closed to skadi }
Though she's spent time with Skadi in the past, there is still much about the woman Christine has yet to discover. In particular, she's interested in learning about the hold gods that Skadi grew up with, and what being a Spirit Warrior is like. One afternoon, she sets aside her work a bit early to meet with Skadi over at the stables, where they can take out horses and have an open conversation without eavesdroppers.

She arrives promptly at the time they agreed upon and gives Skadi a smile. "Good afternoon. As you can imagine, I am looking forward to discussing the Fade and spirits with you."

{ closed to carlos }
Now that he's more settled in, Christine is happy to take Carlos under her wing and instruct him with working as a healer within an Inquisition base. After showing him around the place, she's set him loose to tend to patients, with herself hovering close by in case he needs help or a second opinion. She's also ready to swoop in should she feel he's making a mistake, but she hasn't seen reason to just yet.

Standing within earshot, she organizes a set of potion bottles so their labels all face outward again, and waits to see how he handles this latest case.

{ closed to elros }
Despite the Inquisition's remodeling, Christine really only stays in the Gallows for a few hours at a time because her office and the infirmary are there, not to mention their research laboratory for red lyrium, tucked away behind warded walls in the basement. She will never be comfortable in a place where her fellow mages as well as Tranquil were treated so horrendously by the Templars. Their pain and sorrow will forever be etched into the stonework. And so she can often be found down at the dock where the boats transport people from the island back to Kirkwall's docks, staring out across the water. It's better than sitting in the shadow of those imposing towers, much like the shadows of the Templars who used to breath down her neck at Montsimmard.

{ closed to myr }
It isn't often that Christine speaks out about her thoughts on the Circle system. She well knows that Montsimmard Circle was more lenient than other Circles, but that didn't mean it wasn't a prison in her eyes. Yet the fact she doesn't voice these thoughts out loud means assumptions might be made, such as today. Out walking in the Gallows, Myr's sensitive ears will likely pick up the end of a conversation between Christine and another woman.

"It's just... well, you seemed so level-headed, I only assumed you were a Loyalist."

"Libertarians are not without sense. Those who claim the title, then use blood magic or make deals with demons to destroy the innocent are not Libertarians; they are selfless and psychotic. My ideals are nothing like theirs."

"They are still far too lenient, in my opinion. And as this meeting is for Loyalists only, it seems I can't invite you after all."

"C'est la vie. I wish you a good day, Enchanter."

The other woman sniffs in distaste and her footsteps loudly clack across the stone as she leaves, but Christine stays in place a moment longer before she spots Myr and heads towards him.

"Hello," she begins, unsure if he needs help or if he's perfectly capable of navigating the Gallows unaided. It seems presumptious to ask, but a healer always wishes to help.

{ closed to thranduil }
Today the weather has broke from the near constant cold and drizzle, leaving the sky a brillant blue dotted with flocks of birds migrating north towards warmer temperatures. But Christine is unable to see it, as she's been inside all day, reading reports. And now she must put off going outside for a little longer, as Thranduil has requested to see her. Setting aside her paperwork, she rises and stretches, before making her way towards his office, walking at a leisurely pace because she's always early. Knocking on his door, she announces herself.

"It is Christine Delacroix, ser."

{ closed to the medicine seller }
Christine is incredibly work-oriented, and it's not unusual to see her going over reports, supplies, and the like even when she's supposed to be taking a break. There's only so long a person can work around red lyrium before they need a week long break, and she's in the midst of such a break right now. And even though she's out of work to do, still she heads to the infirmary, reorganizing what's already been organized by herself.

Eventually her hands are empty, there are no patients, and she has to admit defeat with a sigh. Time to walk around the Gallows to see where she can be of use.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Kirk is not particularly proud of having to come to the infirmary. He would actually have rather not, but the logical part of his brain said he needed to not be stupid this time and go have someone look at him. He was fairly sure of of his actual state, but between Samouel and Cyril, he would rather have already gone to a medic rather than be fussed over.

When he's ushered in and sees Christine, he relaxes some. At least this is a healer he knows. He raises his good hand in greeting to her and a sheepish smile, keeping his other in closer to his side to avoid jostling. "Hey. It's been awhile. Not since our little adventure up into high town, eh?" His grin grew wider, tossing her a wink.

It's almost as though he has a little Vulcan angel on his shoulder, telling him to be logical, isn't it? In any case, Christine is glad to see him, though the spark of pleased surprise in her eyes quickly gives way to concern. A healer knows when someone they're familiar with isn't holding themselves naturally.

"It has, but what has brought you in to see me today? You are injured?"

It is, and it's comforting in a way. Even being apart from him for so long, Spock's influence is still in his life, in those little ways. Probably saved him a time or two honestly.

"Just a little accident down in the stables," he assured her. "I'm fairly sure it's just bruised, but seemed the proper thing to come down and have you tell me I'm actually correct." He took a seat in front of her, presenting his wrist. It was warm to the touch and a bit swollen, but wasn't actually broken.

Christine wastes no time getting to work on examining him. From both her touch and her spirit companion's help, they confirm what he says, and she gives him a nod while her eyes still glow blue.

"Quite inflamed, yes. Here, I will do what I can to bring the swelling down." For a moment, she's quiet, concentrating on the task before her. It isn't because it's a difficult spell, but merely because she's thorough, and doesn't want to miss anything. Losing patients in the past has caused her to grow a bit paranoid that she'll overlook something vital that could have saved them, but that's her own fear of failing talking.

Soon he'll begin to feel the effects of her spells. One to reduce pain and another to reduce swelling. Though she knows it should be working, she wants his input too.

"Is it feeling any better yet?"

Kirk let her, aware of a doctor's need to do all they could, not to miss anything. Having a doctor for a best friend made him more than well aware of their little quirks, which they all seemed to share in one degree or another. The good ones anyways. He had to admit that the magic soothed the dull ache, though he reminded himself not to rely on it too much. He had always preferred letting his body doing the healing.

"Yeah, it does, thank you," he nodded. "I'll probably ice it again before bed tonight, or give it a soak in hot water." He gave her a soft smile. "Really, it's nothing serious, Christine. I've had a lot worse in my life."

"Have you? May I ask like what?" Christine does like to know a patient's history, even if it's not relevant for the injury she's currently seeing to. She knows she's lucky that she's rarely had any injuries herself, and certainly no serious ones.

Oh, well, there was a question. He had suffered a lot of injuries, but he could already think of the one he probably should not tell her, or at least fudge for her. He hadn't even told Sam. Only one other person knew, and they were gone from this world. He tapped his thigh for a moment as he ordered his thoughts about what to say.

"I've been poisoned before, pretty badly," he decided, which wasn't necessarily untrue, it just wasn't in a way that was currently possible here on Thedas. "I've broken a number of bones. I'm allergic to an alarming number of things. Shot. Electrified. Kicked by an alarming number of things too..."

Her eyes widen as he goes on, and finally she murmurs, "No wonder you see this injury as nothing. And yet you endure. You must have a very strong constitution." And then she smiles. "Or a healer constantly dogging your heels, no?"

Oh, she had no idea - on both counts.

His mouth twisted in a fond, but wry smile. "That sounds like as good description of Bones as any. I am sure he would not call it that. He would have a much more creative litany of words for it, I'm sure."

"Healers often do. It is so very frustrating to mend a body just to see its owner fling it into harm's way once more. Our work is never finished." But, having said that, she leans back from Jim's hand, clearly finished... for now.

"Let us see how long we can keep this hand uninjured, hmm? Perhaps you will achieve a new record?"

"It's a little impossible not to do so from time to time in my line of work, or practically anywhere here in Thedas. I suppose I can understand the frustration, but I have to admit I only feel confident doing the things I do because I know I have him - and you - at my back," he nodded, rubbing his wrist absently, thumb brushing over the string of numbers tattooed in fine black ink along his pulse.

"Hah, perhaps. I really should have my own accident record counter - 4 Days Without an Accident and such," he chuckled.

"As long as you do not wish for the number to be as low as possible," she jokes back, before she nods towards his wrist and the action he performs.

"That number is important to you?"

He looked down at it and he smiled softly to himself, nodding to her.

"They're a way we can navigate, in my home world." He pulled his sleeve up to show her the full range of them - what appeared to be three sets of numbers, running halfway up to his elbow. "They're the coordinates to my home - that is, the precise location of it. I had it put on, after one of my bad injuries, as a sort of guide. A way to remind of how to get home." He moved his hand to touch his ribs. "This one too. Anchors, I think might a good word. A way to keep from getting lost."

"Like sailors use?" she asks, peering a little closer. But once she sits back, she regards him quietly, knowing better than to mention the fact that these coordinates aren't helping him right now. He's stuck here like the rest of the rifters.

"Something that grounds you. It is a lovely sentiment. Tattoos so often have important meanings like that. I once considered marking myself with one, but did not go through with it."

He knows. Boy, does he know, but also has the coordinates memorized. He did long before he had the tattoo put on. They were symbolic, more than anything, and a way not to forget. Perhaps that was the most important thing - to keep the memories close.

"Oh? Why not?" he asked, mouth curling into a teasing smile. "Worried you'll never be satisfied with it?"

"No," she answers, her returning smile tinged with a bittersweet memory. "It would have been in remembrance of someone who died, but it turns out I carry things with me that already remind me of him." Both Hakkon's Wisdom and her bear slanket have Asher written all over them.

"Perhaps someday, or perhaps I am simply not the sort who suits marking themselves in such a way."

"To each their own," he shrugged. "It's a very personal choice - even the smallest mark - though I am glad I didn't get any during one drunken night on a dare. I am actually surprised I didn't, knowing my friends from back then. Or maybe the tattooists we did go to were smart enough not to tattoo a drunk man."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[CLOSED STARTERS + OPEN] Month long catch all

wildcard - infirmary

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