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Entry tags:
[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
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.
no subject
"Let us see how long we can keep this hand uninjured, hmm? Perhaps you will achieve a new record?"
no subject
"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.
no subject
"That number is important to you?"
no subject
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."
no subject
"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."
no subject
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 subject
"Perhaps someday, or perhaps I am simply not the sort who suits marking themselves in such a way."
no subject
"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."