(no subject)

[samahl]

WHO: Cyril and OPEN
WHAT: The first time that Cyril has opened his stall for a long time but he seems distracted rather than engaging others the way he usually does.
WHEN: A week or so after Sina's death
WHERE: The Gallows - Specifically Cyril's stall at the Gallows.
NOTES: This might eventually result in some discussions of grief and parental death. Close CR might get him to talk a bit about what happened in Pel's nightmare too so all of those warnings may apply.

It has been nearly a month since Cyril has been at his stall. First business with the Inquisition had pulled him away, then a shortage of supplies, then Sina's death and everything surrounding it. Finally, though, he has some wares out to be bought by any who are interested.

There are some basic traps, spring loaded traps, and then, as always, his puzzle boxes. The different items are organized carefully on the table and displayed for any who happen by. Usually, Cyril would be playing with one of the boxes to show how they work, or engaging with those who paused at the stall.

Now, though, he focuses on a sketch he's working on. When someone comes by he smiles at them, and offers pleasant conversation, but rather than being his usually vibrant self he seems a bit withdrawn. He sits by the stall and works on drawing the shape of a woman's face.

If anyone manages to catch what he's working on, they may notice that she resembles him. Or rather, that he resembles her. He had inherited most of his looks from her after all.

Comments

[el_tybs]

Since Cyril's stall was the in the Gallows, Sam didn't frequent it very often, but today he was making a point in visiting. He had noticed that there was a change in Cyril, not just his mood. Sina's death was still fresh, and he was sure it contributed in some way, but it seemed like there was more then just grief in play here. It didn't help that he hadn't been around for a bit, what with having been in Nevarra - even if he had stayed at the sidelines for most of it.

Sam doesn't approach the stall right away, watching from afar for a bit, but eventually he makes his way over. "Hey," he says softly, heading tilting a bit as if still trying to puzzle something together as he looks at Cyril. "Slim pickings today?"

[samahl]

Cyril looks up the sound of Sam's voice and appears a little surprised. "Sam, love, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

He knows Sam avoids the Gallows - and for very good reasons - so he assumes bad things. It's probably a sign of his mood that he jumps to the worst possible conclusion.

He sets aside the sketch book and stands, ready to leave if needed.

[el_tybs]

It seemed that whatever was plaguing Cyril wasn't enough to lessen his concern over his well-being, which had the mage giving a small smile. It was touching, but with how quickly Cyril is to get to his feet, clearly expecting the worst, it does show how rattled he actually is.

The sketch book certainly catches Sam's eye, he's not used to seeing Cyril drawing, at least not while he was trying to sell his wares, but it'll have to wait for the moment. "Actually that's why I came here; to see if everything was alright. Are... you okay?"

[samahl]

Cyril feels both very relieved nothing is wrong and also anxious at the idea that Sam is going to try to get him to talk about himself. For a long moment, he considers dipping into old habits and playing everything off.

But... he had promised himself to be more honest with Sam, to not waste a second they were together by putting up his walls. Losing Taas to distance and Iskandar to who knew what had made that seem important.

"I... I don't know," he admits honestly. Then he moves back to his stall. "Want to help me man my station for a bit? We can talk while no one seems interested." Of course if someone did come by, Cyril would have to focus on them for a bit.

"Or I could see you after? I don't want you to feel like you have to stay in this place for me."

[el_tybs]

When Cyril returns to his seat, Sam lingers where he is at for a few moments, chewing the inside of his cheek as he notes the lack of a spring to Cyril's usual step. He follows shortly after to the stall, stopping in front of it rather then joining him behind it right away.

"This place?" He blinks at that, at first thinking Cyril means the stall, but he quickly catches on that he meant the Gallows. "As long as you don't plan on making me sleep here then I'll be fine." He still had to come here for reports or to request supplies. There was also that time he spent a long period staring at that bronze model of his behind. So it isn't like he wasn't here sometimes.

"I can certainly help you man it... Just look pretty right?" He didn't have to actually help with selling anything right? He wasn't sure he could do that.

[gottakeeponejumpahead]

"So ... should I be disturbed that you are drawing yourself?" Adasse asked suddenly from over Cyril's shoulder. Had he snuck up on the other elf? Maybe. He put his chin on Cyril's shoulder. He tipped his chin a little then let out soft grunt of surprise.

"Oh no, that's a girl there, isn't it? Different cheekbones, and all. Close though." He stands up straight, and turns to lean on the table, giving him a cheerfully lazy smile.

[samahl]

Cyril started a bit at being snuck up on, but settled easily once he realized it was Adasse. He even tilted his head a bit to the side to give the other elf a comfortable space for his chin.

Usually, he'd make some quip about how trying to capture beauty as lovely as his was no crime, but he's really just not in the mood to play up his vanity.

"She's my mother," he offers instead, by way of explanation.

[gottakeeponejumpahead]

Adasse leaned back, his dark eyes thoughtful as he looked at Cyril, then down at the sketch. A smile worked over his lips, as he tipped his head up to look at the sketch again.

"Well, I see the apple didn't fall far from the tree there. Beautiful, the both of you." He tipped his chin back, his gaze bright. "You have her eyes."

[samahl]

Cyril considered the drawing for a moment before speaking. "For a long time, I couldn't remember what she looked like. I didn't realize how much I took after her."

[gottakeeponejumpahead]

Adasse's gaze flickered before he smiled a little. "You're lucky, then. My mind ... my mind continues to forget things about my mother. Just, you know, memories triggered by a smell, or a sound, or maybe some lady wearing a dress that looked like hers? And I can see her face again."

He nods at the picture, "When did you lose her?"

[justice_is_blond]

He's got specific errands to run, stalls he wants to pick up things from, but seeing Cyril back at the stalls means Anders takes a deliberate detour. He'll get the work done later; it's not like he ever doesn't get it done.

"Hello." It's been a rough week, this last one, and he's not sure how Cyril's holding up. Anders points to the drawing with his chin. "Who's that?"

[samahl]

Cyril looks up at Anders and offers him a smile. At the question he considers his drawing again.

"It's meant to be my mother," he admits after a moment of consideration. "I... I admit I had forgotten what she looked like. Until we saw her in Pel's nightmare."

It's easier to admit this to Anders because he has the context. Cyril doesn't have to take time to explain everything that happened.

"It feels as if I should make sure I never forget again."

[justice_is_blond]

Anders comes closer to lean against a counter and get comfortable. There's a quietness here that's fragile and Anders can think of two possible causes right off the top of his head.

"It's... a gift, to remember," he says after a pause. "I don't recall what my mother looked like. Only a bit of a lullaby she sang to me. But I remember she loved me, at least a little, and I tell myself that's enough."

His voice is hushed, eyes on the picture and Cyril's continued drawing. "Are you... Possibly the wrong question to ask, but are you all right?"

[samahl]

Cyril takes a breath then, and then after a moment he lets himself be honest and shakes his head.

"I..." he starts, and then isn't sure if that's the right place to start. He isn't good at talking about himself honestly.

"How do you mages do it? How do you deal with that place every night and still come out sane? Anyone who can do that... You're all just so much stronger than anyone gives you credit for."

[justice_is_blond]

He meets Cyril's gaze before shaking his head.

"It's not that extreme, most nights. We see it, deal with it, but we're not entirely aware of it. Deliberately entering the Fade is more intense. ...And then there's the fact that almost every Circle mage you'll meet has been forced into it with the threat of Tranquility if they refuse, so we didn't have much choice but to confront it."

He takes his own breath as he settles in. "I've been in the Fade like that three times now. One of those times I got to choose it," Anders adds with a chuckle that he doesn't entirely feel. "It doesn't get easier. There are no tricks to handling it. You take it as it is and hope that, that you're still yourself when it's over." However much of one's self they have.

[crowncitizen]

Seeing Cyril at his stall, Prompto detours from his intended destination and meanders on over. Cheery as always, he approaches the stall with a smile, inspecting what Cyril has to offer. Traps wouldn't be a bad investment, given that he's a scout and all. There's just the matter of using them and not accidentally trapping his own foot or something.

"Hey-a, Cyril! I didn't know you made traps." This is what he gets for not paying attention more. As he glances over at the elf to wave, he then finally notices what he's doing. "Or that you draw."

[samahl]

Cyril looks up at Prompto and smiles. He is always pleased to see such a pretty face.

"Oh, yes. I was a Hunter with my Clan so I made them even back them, but since moving to the Inquisition I was able to greatly improve my skills. If you're interested in a few I could give you a friendly discount."

He considers the drawing he's working on and then shrugs. "As for the drawing part, I'm not certain how good I am at it. I'm attempting to capture something from memory and I doubt I'll ever be perfectly happy with it."

[crowncitizen]

"Well, gotta say, they could be handy when I'm out scouting." He's not a great hunter, nor a great fisherman, so having traps out to catch food would go a long ways to help out. "Any you'd recommend specifically for trapping animals?"

The drawing looks pretty decent, at least to Prompto. "Looks good to me. Is that a relative? She looks like you a bit." He's guessing either a sister or his mother.

[samahl]

"My mother," Cyril responds after a moment. He doesn't really seem like he wants to explain more than that though, so instead he focuses on the traps.

"This one should be pretty good for animals. I used something similar to it to trap rabbits and other small animals for my Clan, though this is a bit more advanced than what I had access to back then..." he offers as he points out the one he means.

"Although, I have to admit I'm curious about what kind of advancements they have where you are from."

[crowncitizen]

"She's pretty." But that's all Prompto says. Given how more subdued Cyril seems (at least to him? judging by their last encounter? but really he doesn't know him well enough to suss that out for certain).

"To be honest, it's not much different from here. At least from what I've seen." In terms of traps, anyway. Sure, different weapons for the hunts, but traps mostly remain the same. "Stronger materials, but same concept." He saw them scattered about while doing hunts.

[keenly]

The woman is very beautiful. After a moment, Colin sits down by Cyril to watch.

"You're very talented," he says admiringly.

[samahl]

Cyril looks up and gives Colin a smile. "Thank you, I try."

He sets aside the drawing for now to focus on Colin. "Not as useful as cooking, I'm afraid."

[keenly]

It occurs rather depressingly to Colin that that's the only thing people know about him. His fault, no doubt, as secretive as he has been. His gaze drops.

"It looks like magic, to me," he muses. "The way people can make shape after shape and in the end it looks like something real when it's just paper and charcoal."

[samahl]

Cyril presses his lips together as Colin describes the woman in the drawing as 'real.'

"I'm not really sure I'm doing that," he admits after a moment. Then he gives Colin a little awkward smile and rubs his neck.

"She's more a memory than anything."

[keenly]

Colin catches the thing, and spends a moment considering before replying.

"Your mother?"