{ OPEN } catchall for the month

[aceso]

WHO: Christine, Ellana, Minka, Julian + OPEN!
WHAT: A catchall for the month.
WHEN: whenever in Wintermarch
WHERE: various locations in Kirkwall

I'm putting starters in comments so I have a header for each character and get comments only sent to them instead of getting double comment notifs.

Also, if you'd like to work out a wildcard option, PM me or send a private plurk to megoom and we can play around with ideas.

Comments

{ open prompts for christine }

[aceso]

{ I. the docks }
It isn't often that Christine loses her composure. She does her best to present a calm, collected mage who would never give anyone a reason to doubt her handle on her magic or on her life. But today is different. Today she's running across the docks with her blue cloak flapping behind her, yelling at a male dwarf who is throwing down crates of oysters and mussels in her path so she can't easily catch him.

"Stop! Thief! Someone grab him!" Her voice is near panicked. Whatever he's stolen from her, she's desperate not to lose.

[ ooc: i can take two separate threads for this one, for two stolen items! ]

{ II. the gallows: training area }
One thing that's true of red lyrium research is it must be done slowly, with breaks of a week after each session with the stuff. That time is often devoted to reports, researching materials such as books and enchanting tools, and field work. It just so happens that there's nothing on her plate at the moment, and Christine finds herself at liberty to practice with her spirit blade. She was rather invested back at Skyhold, but with the move and her appointment as project leader, this training has fallen by the wayside.

Now she heads to the training area within the Gallows, long hair pulled back into a tight braid and sleeves rolled back. She takes her staff in one hand and the empty hilt of her magical blade in the other, eyeing up a training dummy before she shoots a bolt of lightning at it and extends her blade, lashing out at it with a wide arc of her arm.

{ closed to myr }

[aceso]

Christine only occasionally speaks out about her thoughts on the Circle system. She well knows that Montsimmard Circle was more lenient than other Circles, but that didn't mean it wasn't a prison in her eyes. Yet the fact she doesn't voice these thoughts out loud means assumptions might be made, such as today. Out walking in the Gallows, Myr's sensitive ears will likely pick up the end of a conversation between Christine and another woman.

"It's just... well, you seemed so level-headed, I only assumed you were a Loyalist."

"Libertarians are not without sense. Those who claim the title, then use blood magic or make deals with demons to destroy the innocent are not Libertarians; they are selfish and psychotic. My ideals are nothing like theirs."

"They are still far too lenient, in my opinion. And as this meeting is for Loyalists only, it seems I can't invite you after all."

"C'est la vie. I wish you a good day, Enchanter."

The other woman sniffs in distaste and her footsteps loudly clack across the stone as she leaves, but Christine stays in place a moment longer before she spots Myr and heads towards him.

"Hello," she begins, unsure if he needs help or if he's perfectly capable of navigating the Gallows unaided. It seems presumptious to ask, but a healer always wishes to help.

{ closed to church }

[aceso]

The month has been full of ups and downs, and when it comes to the downs, Christine finds the best thing to do is to push all thoughts of them aside to focus on more work. Therefore, she's been spending long hours in her office, leaning over paperwork of some kind and letting the fire in her fireplace burn down to embers. Releasing a sigh, she sets aside one document and picks up the next, not noticing the time or who might be coming to the door.

[motherfucking_ghost]

When Christine starts losing track of time, when she comes back home late and apologetic and distracted, she's working too hard. Working too hard usually means she's stressed out and throwing herself into something that's just as stressful if not more stressful, and it becomes a cycle for a while until she busts out of it.

Or until Church comes and busts her out of it, either way. And damn does he try. Church plucks the document from her hand and replaces it with a hot mug of tea. Places a plate of something light from the kitchen with a solid clunk down on the desk. And then he busies himself with stoking the fire back up, because there's not enough light in here and she's going to catch a death of cold and--

Sometimes he manages to be a pretty decent boyfriend, if he does say so himself. He has to wonder if this is him making up for his previous relationship, or if he's just learned enough by now to put in the effort.

[aceso]

"Wha--" she begins, looking up in confusion and irritation. The tea is then stared at, then the food, then Church's back as he moves away to tend to the fireplace. Her lips press into a firm line and she looks at the document he's put aside. If he's not looking she can just--

Well, no. The food smells good and it is getting too dark in here. What time is it? Picking up the fork, she brings a bite of dinner to her mouth, pausing long enough to say, "You are good to me."

He's definitely treating her better than she's treating herself right now, but there are worries on her mind. Not just professionally, but personally too. Worries she hasn't yet shared with him. She's been doing that whole "ignore the problem and bury yourself in work to forget it" solution. It's been working out so far, except when she forgets to eat.

I might as well =D

[tar_minyatur]

Elros, of course, is often by the docks, if only because the Sea-Longing is written deep in his bones enough that he is seriously considering building a skiff of his own.

He blinks and looks up at the call and his eyes narrow, and he stretches a long leg out to trip the dwarf as he goes past before moving to try and grab him.

"Ho there! The lady wants a word with you!"

yay

[aceso]

"Get off!" the dwarf yells in a rough, gravelly voice. "I ain't done nothing!" He struggles in Elros's grasp to try and free himself, but though he puts up a good fight, Elros is stronger and Christine appears before he can break free. She's holding one hand palm up, a small swirl of snow and ice crystals nestled there.

"Give it back before I freeze you solid!" she says, doing nothing to hide the anger lacing her voice. The dwarf stops trying to get away, eyes narrowed as he tries to read her.

"You wouldn't, he begins, but before he can get out a word more, Christine turns her hand and moves it towards his arm, ice vapor reaching out in tendrils. She doesn't yet blast her cold spell at him, but it's more than enough for the dwarf.

"Take it! Take it!" he yells, shoving a necklace at her consisting of a blue teardrop shaped gem on a fine silver chain that's broken at the clasp. "Bloody mages," he grumbles.

Christine snatches it back in her free hand and glares at him. "It would be fitting punishment if I did freeze you, but I would have settled for a punch." Nevermind that she'd probably break her hand trying, but she's that angry. Looking up at Elros, she sighs.

"Thank you. You may as well let him go. The city guard would probably do the same."

[tar_minyatur]

The lady disagrees!" Elros shakes him, once. Firm without being overly cruel.

He eyes the magic with curious interest.

"And it seems she was right! You shame your people to stoop to such acts." But he lets him go with only a light shove.

"Run. And be grateful for the lady's mercy."

II

[circleprodigy]

Inessa is passing by, when the crackle of lightning catches her attention from not too far away. Glancing over, she spots Christine in the time it takes Garahel to perk up and approach. Following, the slight elven woman quickens her pace and rests a hand on her canine companion. He knows better than to interrupt a training session, though she'll let him watch as long as he's not disruptive. Besides, it gives her a chance to see Christine outside the usual spaces.

[aceso]

Christine's form is not that of a natural fighter, but there's something about her actions that suggests a fluidity of movement. It comes from the Circle training she received in that all too important Orlesian art: dancing. A few more strikes at the dummy and she moves back into a resting position, staff resting against her shoulder as her fingers run along the blue ice. Out of the corner of her eye, she spies her spectators and turns to give the two a smile.

"Why hello there. You have not been there long, have you?"

{ open prompts for ellana }

[serannas]

{ I. a rooftop in the city }
The rooftops have become a refuge of sorts for Ellana. She enjoys city life, but Kirkwall isn't the friendliest of cities, and she finds that simply watching the people from above without interacting with them is soothing. So many people with stories that she can wonder about, and sometimes the mystery is better than knowing the truth.

There are others who move along the rooftops, so she knows she won't always find herself alone up here and welcomes the company if they come across her. One evening Ellana lies back on the flat center of a roof, away from its sloping sides, and stares up at the stars. She thinks back on her two whole years with the Inquisition and how her life has changed. She thinks of friends who are gone, of a love she's learned to get over, and a purpose she now has that she felt she always lacked.

These are deep thoughts, but she's not completely unaware of her surroundings. At the first sign she's not alone, she tilts her head towards the newcomer.

"Want to watch the stars with me?"


{ II. the gallows }
For those who don't find themselves scaling walls to sit on a roof on the regular, Ellana has her boots to the ground often. Sometimes she knocks on doors to meet with friends, other times she can be found in the dining hall of the mage tower. And sometimes she sits on the steps leading up to the Gallows, playing her lute or jotting something down in her journal. Nosy passersby might note she has plenty of sketches adorning the pages.

I. Rooftops

[hallabackdir]

He was was surprised to find her, but it was hardly an unpleasant surprise. He took a moment, watching her gaze up deep in thought. It was peaceful, and he was hesitant to intrude on her reverie. But as he turned to leave, her focus turned to him, inviting him into the peaceful space she created. His heart seemed to swell, and his feet went to her without thought.

"I would like nothing more."

He lay next to her, one arm cradling his head as the other extended out to her, inviting her closer if she desired. He was still a little unsure of himself, or how to act in situations such as these. But, he wanted her near if she was agreeable to it.

[serannas]

The invitation is accepted without delay; Ellana scooting herself over to lie next to him. She rests both hands across her stomach and gazes skyward, feeling the night breeze roll over them. Haldir's presence doesn't disturb the tranquility of the scene, and she's content to stare up at the twinkling lights in silence for a moment before choosing to speak.

"Would you like to know any constellations?"

{ open prompts for minka }

[trashlife]

{ I. the gallows: central tower; first floor }
Minka runs. It's what she's done her whole life whenever she was in trouble or thought she would be blamed for something that wasn't even her fault. And what happened in the kitchen is definitely not her fault. She just came across the scene, immediately realized whoever saw her in there would blame her, and ran. She tries to get away as fast as possible, skidding around corners and checking behind her to make sure no one is chasing her...

...which is why she barrels straight into someone without even seeing them. The impact knocks the breath clear out of her and she falls back on her ass with a painful thud.

"Ow," she whines, before thinking to look at the other party. "What're you doing there?"

[ ooc: first come, first serve for this prompt, please! i don't want her running into multiple people. ]

{ II. the gallows: armory complex }
This dwarf has no armor. In addition to that, she has a shitty bow and around five arrows in her quiver. But she's finally joined the Forces division, signing an X on the paperwork that says she'll get paid for her service to the Inquisition. She's given a starter stipend, and told to get herself some armor. Minka looks down at her hooded Carta coat, with the sewn up holes and numerous stains. Yeah, this really isn't going to cut it, is it? Which is why there's a dwarf cautiously staring into an open door of the armory, shifting from foot to foot. She doesn't know anything about armor, like which kind she's meant to wear or what piece goes where.

Help?

I; +1 dwarf

[ragweed]

"Walking, then getting run over, looks like."

The collision didn't knock Kit over--he's built like a brick shithouse--but he did take a half-step backwards to steady himself. He looks down at Minka where she's sprawled on the floor, then offers out a hand to help her up.

"What's got you racing around like a wild bronto? Everything all right?"

[trashlife]

Minka stares at the hand, then gives him a suspicious look before pulling herself up without help. It's nothing personal, but she's been raised to believe that no one is ever going to help you. If it looks like it, then that's just a trick to get you to let down your guard. She assumes he'll start to pull her up, then let go so she falls back. And she would be right to land on her ass again for falling for it.

"No. Something exploded in the kitchen. Jam everywhere. I came in, saw it, and knew I'd get blamed." She takes a look back down the hall. There isn't the sound of any footsteps running their way, but that doesn't mean that she won't be accused if she sticks around this floor of the tower.

"I'm getting as far away as possible."

II

[judgemewhole]

"Can I assist you?"

James steps from the back of the armory, where he was speaking to the Inquisition blacksmiths about what metals they needed to make higher quality blades. Silverite, for example, was something he knew they could get their hands on -- but his attention was pulled from such matters when he saw the baffled dwarf standing in the doorway.

[trashlife]

"Um," she begins, standing up straighter and wondering if this guy is important and in charge. She should make sure he doesn't hate her immediately.

"I'm in Forces and they told me I need armor so I'm here for armor, but I dunno what I need and I figured someone who knows could just tell me? And then give me some. That's what they said. I don't gotta pay for it either, they said."

{ open prompts for julian }

[insatiably]

{ I. the hanged man }

Julian's been to Kirkwall before, but he's never really seen it properly. The life of an heir apparent with time on his hands means he's traveled a bit for both business and pleasure, and Kirkwall's location has made it vital to the family business of fine Antivan leather goods. This time, however, he's more looking into the pleasure aspect. A good drink, the company of fine people, and perhaps a game of cards?

Hopefully he ends the evening still wearing his pants. Or at least knowing where his pants are, if he's in a situation in which wearing them would ruin all the fun.

First stop is The Hanged Man, and he enters with all the confidence a young man in the prime of his life can.

"Does anyone by chance possess a deck of cards for Wicked Grace? I'll buy you a round if I can join your game."


{ II. throughout Kirkwall }

He's still learning the layout of the city, and that means walking the streets himself to see what's what. He might be seen on the docks, talking to sailors as if he knows them personally (he doesn't) and asking about their cargo. He might be in the Gallows, practicing his swordplay or ending up in the infirmary with a minor injury and a soft chuckle of embarrassment. Or he might just be up in Hightown, sitting on the porch of his house, feet prompted up on a chair and a bottle of wine on the table. He takes a sip from his glass, notices a passerby, and beckons them closer.

"Ah, if you've a minute?" He's clearly not from around here judging by the accent.

I

[tar_minyatur]

"I don't know the game, but I'm always up for learning."

The man who hails him is people-watching from a comfortable spot near the fire, long legs stretched out, and a mug in his hands. His smile is open and friendly, his clothes fine but travel stained, a massive longsword resting in it's scabberd beside him.

"Elros, at your service." He gets up to introduce himself. "I'll buy the first round, if you're willing to teach!"

[insatiably]

"Ah!" Julian replies, pleased to see someone want to learn. "Julian De Abbrixio. A pleasure." Rubbing his hands together, the Antivan looks about them. "But I still require a deck first! Let's see... barkeep!" He hails the man behind the bar, and after a quick conversation, a deck of cards appear from behind the bar and several coins are exchanged as payment.

Turning back to Elros, he grins. "I'll try anything once. Order whatever you'd like, and I'll grab us a table."

II. Infirmary

[el_tybs]

Turning around at the embarrassed chuckle, Sam raises a brow at the man standing at the entrance of the tent. "I take it you need to be looked at?" Really no other reason for someone to be here. Even though he asks that, Sam stands up from his chair and motions for the man to move to the cot. "Take a seat."

[insatiably]

"I wish I could say it was a social call," he says good-naturedly, setting his shield aside to take a seat where indicated. His eyes glance around the tent to take in everything, including the healer he's come to see. Usually Julian sees a healer that comes straight to the house, but he's roughed it on a ship before, so he's seen less than fancy accommodations as well. This at least looks better than below deck on that ship.

"I'm not sure if you can do anything. I pulled my shoulder when I thrust forward with my shield. Tell me: is it all over for me? Will I live to see the dawn?" He smiles as he says this, though his delivery is appropriately dramatic.

II

[gatheringstorm]

While she's on her way home in the docks area, that question gives Korrin pause. She may typically be one of the tallest people around and therefore easy to when someone needs directions. Still, she raises her eyebrow in faint surprise, because she is a dreaded 'qunari'. Even when people spot her first, they tend to ask someone less intimidating.

"I have a couple, sure. Where do you need to go?"

[insatiably]

Julian smiles, pleased that he's caught her attention. While he has no idea if she's one of the Qunari or one of the not-Qunari, he figures he'll find out through conversation.

"I'm desperate to know of other taverns besides The Hanged Man. That's all anyone seems to speak of! But surely it can't be the only one in the city. If the others are that much smaller, they could do with the patronage."