[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

[foundmyselfagain]

There has been plenty of occurrences in Gareth's long and illustrious career of bad decisions where he has bitten off more than he can chew, and finds himself over his head in a bad way. There's an odd, calm intensity to the man looking at Gareth over his glasses that gives him a similar feeling. His kneejerk reaction is to go try to get Nell or Kostos, point them at Atticus and let them decide what's the best course.

But they'd probably just call him paranoid (which, to be fair, he was). And he's already here, already talking. He probably is just being paranoid.

"I was. Right up to the bitter, bloody end. Well--Not the end end. Most of the Gallows mages who had stuck it out that long are dead. In a bad way." Not that any of those deaths had been good, but being turned into a flesh golemn by your first enchanter was definitely topping the list. "But! Now just about every Circle has their very own 'went to shit' story. I'll have to figure out something else, if I want to really stand out."

[minrathousian]

"That's what you'd like, is it?" Atticus inquires and makes a vague gesture with his left hand. "To stand out?"

He knows as much about the fall of Kirkwall's Circle as anyone else in Thedas, for news of that rebellion was quite popular in the north. What self-respecting citizen of the Imperium wouldn't derive even the mildest of pleasure from discovering that a tyrant Templar's own ambition had turned her into a lyrium statue? (The red lyrium would, of course, become a bigger threat, but at the time even he had enjoyed the irony.)

He closes the book in front of him and sets it aside. "What is your name?"

[foundmyselfagain]

Gareth actually thinks on Atticus' question--about standing out, not his name. Does he want to stand out? He's certainly happy to go around talking about cutting off his hand and how shitty the Gallows was, but that was...different. No one ever took that seriously, just like he didn't expect Atticus to take his joke about standing out seriously. Maybe Atticus didn't expect Gareth to take his question seriously. Maybe this was a whole clusterfuck of unexpected seriousness.

"No," He says after enough time to mull it over. "I don't think I particularly do want to stand out. Not here, at least. It rarely pays to stand out among normal people." That word, 'normal', is said with a hint of wryness. "Especially not for something like that."

The name takes less time, but he does hesitate. But a name is an easy thing to find out, and it would look more suspicious for him than Atticus if he refused. Or gave a false name. "Gareth," He says, with a shrug. "Just Gareth. There's a couple people with that name floating around here, but I'm just the plain research mage one."