faderift | Open log for Wintermarch

Well. Nevarra sucked. He's not entirely surprised with how things turned out, but it's still frustrating. At least they're back in Kirkwall now.

A. Not exactly a scholar

Oh yes, this is a rare sight. Carver Hawke, in the library. Reading. Well, attempting to anyway. The rather tall man is almost dwarfed by the stack of books around him; clearly he's been here for awhile, judging by the stacks and the empty plate next to him. His brow's creased in a perpetual frown as he pages through the book in front of him. Occasionally, he'll jot down something in a little piece of parchment next to him. But often he'll just cross it out later. Whatever he's trying to discern, it's not going well.

After awhile, he shoves the book away from him, blowing out a frustrated breath. Calloused hands run over his face, scrubbing at it. "I'm not cut out for this," he mutters.

B. Gotta keep in shape

Now this is much more his style. Despite the cold weather, Carver's still outside, practicing his sword form. He whet his blade plenty on the undead that swarmed them in the Grand Necropolis, but that doesn't mean he gets to slack off. And really, it's more something to just keep his mind occupied and feel somewhat productive. For now, he's practicing on one of the dummies set up... somewhere. Someone probably propped up a few somewhere, right? Right.

Of course, a real partner that can react and swing back would be ideal. But Carver's never been much of one to ask for a sparring partner; too used to doing it on his own and all. Still, he won't say no if someone offers. If he knows you, he'll wave in greeting. If not, he'll either likely ignore you or just nod. Or if you're REALLY lucky and he likes you, you might just get a smile.

Or just don't let him know you're there and ogle him from a distance. He's getting warm from the movements, so he's ditched the coat. Now he's just rocking a threadbare shirt and pants, so.

C. Griffons are better than people

Because fuck people, honestly. Griffons don't care about politics or image or whatever. They just want food and head scratches. And after the Grand Necropolis debacle, Carver's happy to spend time up there with the beasts, giving them bits of food and learning about them. They're used to him enough now that they're not quite as rambunctious and screechy when he comes up, though that might have more to do with the fact that he always comes with food.

Carver's also wisened up; most of the shiny things on him are hidden or just entirely absent. Still, it doesn't stop one from trying to pick at a button on his shirt. Carver gently whaps its beak. "Don't you try it. Beth will give me that look and chide me, and I can't sew for shit." A protesting squawk. "Look, I'll bring you something big and shiny to play with next time. Knowing our luck, you'd swallow this thing and choke on it."

He gets perturbed look.

"I'm right and you know it."

D. Wildcard

You know the drill

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Potato has been calmly watching Carver from her perch up high, but she suddenly perks up and lets out a cry before jumping off. Just entering, Inessa smiles as her bonded mount spirals down to greet her. As Potato crowds in, she laughs and strokes her head.

"Why hello, Potato. Behaving yourself?"

Glancing over, she notes Carver and grins. "They seem quite taken with you now. I'm glad you've had the chance for more quality time with them."

Potato's cry draw Carver's attention for a moment, watching as the griffon flies down to greet Inessa. Carver nods to her in greeting. "Getting there. The bonded ones don't bother with me much, but Ghostface here-"

-takes advantage of Carver's lapse of judgment and pulls at his button. The Warden makes a noise that's a cross of surprise and frustration as he shoos Ghostface away from said button. "Hey now, what did I just tell you?"

"Tsk, Ghostface. You know better than that." She shakes her head, smirking as Potato nudges her for more attention. "Ghostface has been a bit lonely, without a rider. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he's decided you're worthy of him. Buttons aside, he's a good choice. Gentle, playful...just mind your fingers."

At least Potato isn't so insistent on that, though there is a reason Inessa always braids her hair and wears simply clothing when visiting the roost.

The griffon squawks piteously, looking almost put out by the scolding. Carver pats his head. "He just gets excited, I think. Normally I don't wear button shirts up here, but this was impromptu." Next time he'll be sure not to.

Worthy of him? Oh man. Carver doesn't want to look like an excited little boy at the thought, but he certainly feels it. Instead, he huffs out a laugh. "Maybe. Might just like pecking me and my buttons a lot."

"That sounds like the beginning of a fruitful partnership, to me--"

And suddenly, Inessa's gaze loses focus. Potato squawks in alarm as she sways a little, automatically resting her hand on the griffon to keep herself propped up. She falls silent, feeling the world spin around her and not daring to move for fear of what might happen.

"A partnership based on him building Maker knows what with the bits of my-"

Potato's worried squawk alerts Carver. His eyes widen slightly as Inessa sways. He strides over to her. "Inessa? What's wrong?"

Inessa grits her teeth a little as she waits for the dizzy spell to pass, though she still seems slightly more pale than usual. Potato fidgets, making uneasy noises as this isn't something she's seen happen before. Straightening after a few moments, she strokes the concerned griffon.

"...it's just some lightheadedness. I don't know what brought that on, it's not as though I didn't eat today." You know, at some point. Her slight uncertain tone means it might have been a while, though.

Between how she looks and Potato's worry, Carver's not convinced this is a minor matter. He frowns sharply. By and far he's no healer, but this seems a bit serious. "You might want to get something hearty into you. And water." People always swore by water, or liquid at least, when dizzy spells hit. "You sure that's all? You're looking ashen-faced."

She starts to nod, but regrets that more or less instantly. Potato's presence keeps her propped up, though, and she recovers faster than than initial bout. Her brow furrows.

"...I am? I thought I heard that a winter cold as making the rounds. That might be it." She sighs, unable to deny that Carver's advice is good and annoyed at herself for this happening at all. "I'm sorry, Potato. Quality time is probably best cut short today."

The griffon squawks, offended by the notion, but a few strokes seem to quiet her. "Could you keep an eye on her until get something in me? If it's lessened afterward, I'll return."

Seems worse than a normal cold to him, but Carver's not the fussy type. Inessa's a grown woman and can handle herself. "Yeah. I'll be up here for a bit." Of course, now Ghostface takes his turn to get up in arms, though more out of jealousy than anything. He headbutts Carver's back, clearly miffed. "There's enough of me to go around," he says, shooting the griffon a mild look.

"Thank you...and Potato, behave yourself. Play nice with your sibling." Potato tries to follow, but she waves her back, and the light grey griffon will more or less behave herself if she gets equal attention. Otherwise, Carver will find out personally that she can be something of lap griffon.

Poor Potato. She does look a bit sad, so Carver calls her over and gives her a scratch on the head. "She'll be back eventually." Meanwhile, Ghostface trots up and butts his head against Carver's shoulder, wanting attention. Good thing Carver has two hands to give pets with...

Open log for Wintermarch

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