Fade Rift Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
faderifting) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
faderift2017-12-13 09:57 pm
faderifting) wrote in faderift2017-12-13 09:57 pm
Entry tags:
- kostos averesch,
- nell voss,
- teren von skraedder,
- { adalia },
- { araceli bonaventura },
- { bronach },
- { christine delacroix },
- { ellana ashara },
- { galadriel },
- { inessa serra },
- { jim kirk },
- { korrin ataash },
- { loghain mac tir },
- { maedhros },
- { myrobalan shivana },
- { nikos averesch },
- { prompto argentum },
- { rey },
- { samouel gareth },
- { simon ashlock },
- { skadi iceblade },
- { vandelin elris },
- { yngvi }
OPEN ↠ HARING EVENT
WHO: All
WHAT: WINTER IS HERE
WHEN: Haring 15-Wintermarch 1
WHERE: The Gallows, Kirkwall
NOTES: You can use this post as an event-style mingle log, or just use it as background information for your RP elsewhere!
WHAT: WINTER IS HERE
WHEN: Haring 15-Wintermarch 1
WHERE: The Gallows, Kirkwall
NOTES: You can use this post as an event-style mingle log, or just use it as background information for your RP elsewhere!
It's been a chilly month already, but in mid-Haring the temperature suddenly plummets. One day it's merely cold, and the next morning the Inquisition wakes to frost on the inside of the window panes and an icy draft whistling through every crack in the tower's masonry. Downstairs, the pipes that feed the bathing chambers and the kitchens creak in the walls, loud enough to be heard even out in the courtyard, where they run beneath the stones, and around midday, when the sun has failed to raise the temperature above freezing, a blocked pipe finally gives, cracking open to spill water across the central court and send it running down side passages. The whole area floods several inches deep and almost immediately begins to freeze, presenting at first a gigantic, treacherous slush puddle and, after a few hours, a sheet of sheer ice.
Melting a safe path from door to door and laying down sand or wood to keep it from becoming slick again is a simple enough undertaking, but before the entire courtyard can be thawed, someone appears with ice skates—and that’s a better idea, surely, for at least a few days. Anyone who complains about the frivolity can be assured it’s good exercise, not to mention good training for a force that may have to travel or fight on ice in the future.
Temperatures remain cold enough that even some parts of the harbor begin to freeze, first just at the calmest edges of the shoreline, and then the more protected nooks and crannies of the bay, inlets and the spaces between piers and beneath docks. It snows most days--not real storms, just a couple inches here and there--little enough for the window to blow most of it off the icy plain of the courtyard and other wide open, paved spaces, accumulating on branches and in alleyways, and creating growing drifts in corners and against walls.
After a week or so actual chunks of floating ice begin to fill the narrow channels of the harbor, threatening smaller and less-sturdy vessels, and the situation in the poorer parts of the city begins to grow dire. With the Viscount's blessing, Inquisition teams (particularly mages) are called in to help. Some are assigned to the docks, to clear ice that makes landing and unloading treacherous, others to help escort ships into harbor by melting a path ahead. Others are sent into Lowtown to clear ice and snow and to provide warmth and medical attention where needed. At least one mage is sent with each team, and while many neighborhoods are pleasantly surprised and grateful for the quick work fire glyphs make of cold hearths and frozen streets, a few are unable to overcome their distrust, and refuse the teams entry, determined to take care of their own without the help of dangerous outsiders.
In the last week of the year, a true blizzard strikes, snow falling steadily for more than a day, blanketing the city at least three feet deep. Digging out the Gallows will be a group effort, and most non-essential trips outside the base will be cancelled for a few days until travel is less difficult, while those who reside in the city or elsewhere may be encouraged to stay a night or two in the fortress so they might continue to work without traveling through the storm. But on the first day of Wintermarch the First Day feast goes on as planned, with modest but plentiful food and ale served in the Gallows' dining hall for anyone who wishes to celebrate the new year.
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"Not the way I would have liked to have our first kiss! But with the lady's permission?"
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Let it never be said that Adalia waits on a man.
She leans up, as high as she can go without getting on her tiptoes, and reaches up to slip her hand around the back of Elros' neck to pull him down the rest of the way. There's only a moment for her to think This is my first fucking kiss, you asshole plant — before she closes the rest of the distance between them and presses her lips to Elros'.
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...almost. For a few seconds, anyway. She remembers the reality of the situation and lets herself drop back down to her feet, reaching up for the mistletoe before either it or Elros can react.
"You did this to yourself," she tells the plant, glaring at it as she summons spark to her hand, frying it and setting it on fire.
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It's a poor substitute for true affection, properly consented to by both parties without coercion, but Elros feels his heart skip happily when she permits him to draw her close, although he politely doesn't try and do anything more than kiss her chastely. Maybe, maybe this is something that they should talk about properly later, he hopes.
Privately.
(Her lips are soft, and she smells nice, like a summer storm)
He makes a disappointed noise when she pulls away but he doesn't try to hold her, blinking in surprise as her hand goes up to his hair, and then laughing in understanding as the mistletoe goes up in flames.
"Oh! A good idea. Thank you for saving me. Again!"
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"You know me, Elros," she says finally, looking up at him and smirking. "Always ready to defend your maidenly virtue."
She'd feel bad for the joke, if she knew how earnest he was.
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"My maidenly virtue thanks you." He says grandly. "The crown of Numenor is in your debt! Of course, the crown is also rather broke, but I can afford to offer you a hot drink?"
And maybe, in private...perhaps they can talk.
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"Regardless, Elros, you don't owe me anything. I won't say no to a hot drink, freezing as it is, but there's no debt."
Adalia's never had anyone in her debt before, and she certainly isn't about to start accruing such relationships now. Things done in friendship incur no debts, as far as she's concerned, and besides that it's just... It's a really weird idea, to be owed something rather than to owe. Adalia has her own debts she must pay back, she'd rather no one else ever feel indebted to her. It's not a pleasant feeling.
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"Well, technically I could be considered in 'exile' of sorts, I suppose. Alternatively, it could be considered an ambassadorship? Numenor doesn't exist here but it does exist, so... I'd have to ask Maglor, he's the loremaster. If anyone would know the intricacies of how such things should work it would be him."
He grins at her.
"Not the real kind of debt, no. But good friends have debt of another sort, and..." he hesitates, suddenly shy. "I... would think that you are not... adverse to friendship, at least?"
Please say you aren't.
He looks at her pleadingly.
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Which is unfortunate when that's what Elros keeps bringing them back to. She ducks her head, tucking her hair behind her ears to give her hands something to do, and shrugs.
"Well, we have known each other longer than a day now. I think a month is time enough to consider someone a friend."
Despite her reluctance to deal with any sort of feelings, she does look up at Elros and give him a shy smile.
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"So exile? Or maybe Tribute? No, tribute would imply I was taken deliberately, wouldn't it? I don't mind being in Exile, it sounds very dramatic."
She looks so shy suddenly, and it's very cute, and he reaches over to touch her hand. Just lightly, so she can pull away, if she wants.
"Oh good. I ... don't want things to be awkward! After the kiss, you know. Which was very nice! I just... "
Just spit it out he can almost hear his brother laugh.
"I do like you." He says in a rush. "You're smart and kind and pretty. But I don't know if you want anything more. We barely know each other enough to say! But I think I wouldn't mind finding out. If you don't mind. As friends!"
Could you be any more awkward he laments to himself and sighs, pulling away to run fingers through his hair.
"And I've just made everything about a hundred times more awkward, haven't I? Sorry."
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...a rather difficult thing to do when she has been left so utterly speechless, however.
She stares up at Elros, mouth slightly agape, blinking owlishly like a moron, for several seconds before she can bring herself to snap her mouth shut. He likes her? He likes her? That's so... it's incomprehensible, honestly. Adalia is not unaware that she's rather attractive, as far as humanoids go, but she isn't by any means spectacular. She is terrible at dealing with feelings and can be so oblivious it's ridiculous, she makes terrible life choices —
and Elros likes her.
"Um," she says, very eloquently. "I — that is, I'm not sure — I've never —"
Adalia groans and drops her face into her hands. Pull it together, kid.
"That was my first kiss," she admits, the words muffled by her palms, "I've never — been courted. Or done any courting. Or anything like that. I don't know how it works."
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"Well, I mean... I haven't either...so...you know...I just...well I mean..."
He stutters to a halt and then tries again. "I'm sorry it was such a terrible first kiss. I never wanted things to be so awkward. I just...if you don't mind it, could we maybe...try?"