Fade Rift Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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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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Prompto follows along like an obedient puppy, trying to keep his cool and not internally go SQUEE over being able to hold her hand. A faint blush still remains in his cheeks, but otherwise he manages to not look like a total idiot as he walks alongside of her.
"Yeah, I saw those when we first got here. The Gallows can be kind of unsettling, but at least the rooms had a bit more space and privacy." Though as he says that, he remembers Saoirse used to live here before the Circle fell. Immediately he feels like a jerk. "...ah, sorry. Didn't mean to come across that insensitive." Way to go. "You doing okay being back in them?"
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Admittedly, Saoirse is rather happy herself as she holds his hand close to her. It feels a little like she's floating but she wonders if that is partly because she got so cold outside. Thankfully she can already feel a difference being indoors and simply protected from the winds.
"I have good days and I have bad days," she says with a tired sound. "But I'm getting better with being in these halls again. I cannot allow myself be chained to the past though I can remember it and make sure it is not repeated. I want this place to be a home for me."
She's grateful that her room is not a long walk since it helps to drive away any of the sadness that might appear when discussing such sensitive subjects. For once, in a what feels like a very long time, she selfishly wants something and to forget the sadness that has followed her around since the Circles fell. Although she continues to hold his hand, her other comes to rest on the handle and glances upward nervously.
"I'm still arranging things so please, forgive the mess." Which is clearly most important now that she has decided that she is most definitely bringing a boy to her room because she likes him and deeply wishes to keep kissing him. Her room, meanwhile, clearly has taken tones from her childhood home in Starkhaven. It is arranged in a homely manner, rugs and furs helping to keep the warmth in while a carefully tended fire continues to burn. Books line the walls, stacked here and there while plants are clearly the second most important feature visible. It is, most simply, as warm as it's owner.
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He squeezes her hand gently. It's got to be hard for her, coming back here after all that happened. One day, when he goes back to Insomnia, it'll probably be a similar experience. How he'll find that strength, he doesn't know, but at least he knows how much it must be taking to step back into this place and try and start over. It's something else to admire about her, really. "That's the best thing you can do. And if it gets to be too much, you can always stroll right out into the city to get away for a little while."
His heart rate spikes a bit as her hand hovers over the door handle. At 21 years old, this is the first time he's gone into a girl's room, alone. And it feels so childish and silly to be worked up over it, and yet, here he stands, nerves racked. So much that he almost misses with Saoirse says; luckily he catches enough of it to get the gist. They're inside before he can say anything, though he already suspected there was nothing to worry about.
"It looks great!" he assures her as he steps in, looking around. It very much reminds him of her father's home in Starkhaven. Immediately he feels cozy and warm. "Few more years and you'll totally give your dad a run for his money in the number of books owned," he teases with a grin.
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With a swallow, she squeezes his hand slightly and notes her own racked nerves flaring up. She has been so brave until this moment, perhaps worried that without the mistletoe biting until flesh that he might come to senses or have second thoughts. Saoirse is thankful when he speaks, smiling bashfully and glancing away to hide the flush of red to her cheeks.
"You're nice but I very much doubt will ever be possible even if I were to live five lifetimes." She says with a laugh. "Still, I am... happy that you like it."
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As he watches her and listens, seeing the way she blushes and the shyness evident, he realizes that she's just as nervous as he is. Honestly, he's hugely relieved. His inexperience in this makes him unsteady and unsure, and while she doesn't know how experienced she is, at least he's not the only nervous one and that does wonders for him.
"Well, yeah, of course I do," he says, stepping towards her until they're practically touching. "It's your place. Why wouldn't I like it?" Let's be real, it could be bare and he'd still love it. Tentatively, he reaches for her hands to hold them in his.
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Again, Saoirse can feel her heart racing as she looks over to him as he approaches. It is not so unusual, she has been with one other before shortly after the Circles fell in an intimate moment like this but it had ended so tragically that she doubted herself capable of love or being loved. An elf, an mage... so many things that people in this world seemed to hate.
Yet here was someone that she cared for deeply and she cannot help herself, allowing him to hold her hands and taking in the closeness. "You asked me if I was sure before when I told you how I felt but I must ask... are you sure of this too?"
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One step at a time. He's taking this by inches, seeing what she's comfortable with before moving a bit further. As he holds her hands - feeling stupidly giddy the entire time - he's contemplating pulling her in for an embrace when her question's asked. That stops his idea dead in its still formulating tracks. By the Six, that question has him taken aback. Of course he's sure. Why would he-
...oh.
"Yeah, I am." Of course her being an elf or mage isn't lost on him. It's not something he actively thinks about, because it doesn't make a difference to him, but he does realize that it's something to keep in mind, especially out in public. Being a rifter though, it's not like he isn't already half ostracized by the city already. "Absolutely."
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"Absolutely," she repeats. "I absolutely wish for this too."
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Really, what is there to say? He's not great with words anyhow, so he opts for another way to express everything swirling around in him. He leans down and captures her lips with his, earnest and happy.
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It had been a long, long time since she had last felt this way. There was just so many people out there to help but selfishly Saoirse cannot deny how happy these moments alone have made her. Just how much she wants to forget the world outside of her room, even if it was for just a moment.
That is why, when he kisses her, there is only the briefest of pauses before she lifts up on her toes to return the kiss. This is what she wants, this is what makes her happy and she doesn't want to miss out on another moment of it.
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