[OPEN] don't you ever tame your demons

[minrathousian]

WHO: Atticus Vedici + various starters, and OPEN
WHAT: Some dream stuff, some general stuff, some tense stuff.
WHEN: The first half of January
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: None currently, will update as needed.

I. DREAMING (GALADRIEL)


Whatever dream Galadriel finds herself immersed in, on one particular night, something about it will change--a softening around the edges of it, at first, like someone painting watercolour across the world around her. Colours blend and bleed into each other until her surroundings lose their definition entirely, though the painter himself, when he steps into view, is clearly identifiable.

Perhaps he should have asked first.

"Good evening," Atticus greets her in what is, perhaps, the closest approximation to real friendliness that he can muster.



II. DREAMING (ADALIA)


His appearance in Adalia's dreams--on another night, at another time--is more subtle. Masked and shrouded, he insinuates himself into the fabric of her dream in such a way that he is more a part of the scenery than a visitor distinct from their surroundings.

Still, he follows the marks that the sleeping mind leaves in the Fade; ultimately, it will lead him to Adalia.



III. AROUND THE GALLOWS (OPEN)


He has been free from the Gallows' dungeon long enough to develop a routine. It looks something like this:

He rises quite early in the morning and takes a small breakfast in his private quarters, before reporting, as required, to his Templar handler du jour for his work assignment. This, predictably, lands him in the Rifts and the Veil work rooms, or in the library, where the majority of his time is spent pouring over the Inquisition's existing resources and putting in requisitions for additional material. (Some of the books he requires, unfortunately, are only available in the Minrathous Circle's Arcane Library. He files each of these notes away for further consideration.)

Lunch he takes in the mess hall so as to not present the appearance of being secretive or unsociable (perish the thought). He rarely has guests here, or in the baths. Dinner, again, is a private affair in his quarters, where he pours over his notes from the day with a glass of wine and the remnants of his still very broken reading glasses.

Some evenings, if he can lower himself enough to ask permission for it, he tolerates the bitter cold long enough to venture outside and observe what he can of the City of Chains across the murky water. It's not much of a view, but spending half a year behind bars gives one the ability to appreciate even the most underwhelming skyline.

In short, Atticus keeps himself busy, and is often alone. He seems to prefer it this way.



IV. ATTICUS' QUARTERS (MYR)


One especially cold evening after the conclusion of his work, Atticus brings a few books with him back to his quarters and settles in to peruse them before turning in for the night. In the relative privacy of his room, he feels little compunction about frowning to himself as he closes his single window as tightly as possible, endeavouring in vain to keep the chill from infiltrating his chambers.

(Had it been this cold in the dungeons, or did the illusion of freedom give him more opportunities to nitpick? He quiets the thought.)



V. WILDCARD (OPEN)


(surprise the shit out of me)

Comments

[minrathousian]

Well, this is unexpected. So is the change to Adalia's dream.

As things tend to be with dreams, the transition from the vague to the distinct is difficult to pin down, but the feeling of home around them becomes a decidedly impersonal thing. The kitchen becomes less a place that they are in, and more a place that is nearby; around them, the room more closely resembles the elegant parlour of a rich Tevinter mansion, with enormous arching windows that allow the sun to pour in, gilding a head of curly dark hair belonging to a child--

--no.

Coming back to himself, Atticus thrusts away the familiar and instead reaches for Adalia's thoughts, her dreams, her longing for a family she never had. He gathers the the thoughts together like spools of yarn and spins a clearer picture for them both... and if he must wear the mantle of father here, then so be it.

"Obey your mother," he tells her--as he's told Octavius since he was small. "I have no patience for children."

[thunderproof]

"Good thing I'm no longer a child then, hm?" Adalia says, prim, as if she's made the same point contless times before — and in the logic of the dream she has. Her desires are not concrete enough to make a fully-fledged scene from, so the Fade pulls from Atticus' memories and understanding of home and family to fill in the gaps. Mother-figure becomes mother, a blonde woman with a pinched and distant appearance; the kitchen space becomes the parlour, sunny yet somehow cold; a third, younger figure begins to take shape, this one with a mop of curly blonde hair and a gap-toothed smile.

It is a fuller picture than Adalia had conjured on her own, albeit one with far less warmth.

"You're going to have to start treating me like an adult someday, you know. I am nineteen now, fully grown and everything!"