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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by he smiles at them, and offers pleasant conversation, but rather than being his usually vibrant self he seems a bit withdrawn.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.

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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?"

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.

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?"

"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.

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.

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."

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?"

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."

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."

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."

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.

Cyril smiles at that. "Yes, and you do that wonderfully," he replies with a lot of affection.

After they are both settled, he considers Sam carefully. "Do you mind if I ask a bit of an odd question?"

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."

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."

"Wonderfully," he repeats with a bit of an amused scoff. "I suppose I should do less of a good job lest I become a selling point of your shop." He smiles back in return, glad to see sparks of Cyril's usual self peeking through.

"I... suppose..." Exactly what did Cyril consider 'odd' to ask?

Cyril isn't sure exactly how to ask what is on his mind. So he starts a little awkwardly.

"So... the Fade? You see that place every time you sleep?"

Sam blinks at the question. The question itself isn't odd, but it certainly feels like it came out of nowhere. For a few moments more he just stares before clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck.

"From what I've been told, everyone's mind enters the Fade when they dream... except dwarves. Someone like yourself, who isn't a mage, when they wake up, won't remember their dream; maybe snippets or a feeling from time to time." Sam pauses then, adjusting in his chair and forces himself to set his hands in his lap. "As for myself, being a mage, I am more... aware when I dream, and when I wake up I remember all of it."

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?"

"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.

"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."

Cyril looks at Adasse for a moment before replying. He finds the idea that Adasse can relate to these complicated feelings to be immeasurably comforting.

"I was six when an illness took her and many others from our Clan. That probably explains why I couldn't recall anything more than just sweat soaked hair and the smell of sick in the air..."

He looks away for a moment, uncertain how to process all of this. "And then a nightmare happened to bring her face back to me. I'm honestly not even sure how I feel about the idea that it took that for me to be able to picture her."

A look of worry crosses Cyril's face then. "But then how do you get any rest? Aren't there demons and nightmares and all sorts of horrors you'd have to face every time you wish to sleep?"

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

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

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."

"My physical body is still resting, so unless something wakes me up, like a nightmare, or makes me restless, I get rest just fine." As he answers, Sam has to wonder if Cyril had heard something about all this, seeing as he hadn't been worried about this particular thing up until now.

"We are certainly more susceptible to demons and the like while we sleep since we are more connected to the Fade at that time, but it isn't 'every time' as you might think. Those who are especially strong might be plagued a lot more often since demons wish for a strong body. Same goes for someone who is very weak, they would be easier to get to."

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