[Open] Like a sickness

[judgemewhole]

WHO: James Norrington + You
WHAT: Phase One
WHEN: The next 7 to 10 days
WHERE: The Gallows, Kirkwall.
NOTES: Warning for religious devotion.

The First Few Days

The first few days, James just worked in a way that most would read as him having something on his mind. Pel had left, Beleth had been walking around with a mark from someone else's mouth on her neck, so naturally he would be working harder. It showed, too. The armory was in pristine shape, and new weapons and armory were starting to appear with a distinctive leather finery that had not been there before.

The templars were set in shining and perfect order - and the Inquisitions soldiers were put through their paces. He also helped the Chantry sisters clean up the altar of Andraste. Lighting the candles, he could often be found in prayer, and reading the Chant with perfect and passionate voice to whomever wanted to speak of the love of Andraste.

The middle days

It wasn't as much noticeable, as he would suddenly spend all day working on one task until it was done, and then do it all over again. One day it was training the troops. Another day would be spent completely in prayer. The next, all the paperwork. After that, he put everything together in the armory so it was bright, perfect and beautiful.

The last few days.

For the last few days of his illness, James is not found in his office. He is not found in the armory, and he is not found in the courtyard. He is found, almost prostrate, in front of the statue of Andraste, a fever keeping him awake and his body tinged blue, as he softly muttered the Chant, as his Lady's feet.

Comments

[unshadowing]

Carver's not much of the optimistic sort, but he at least has enough tact to not agree with him out loud. Maybe the silence says that enough, but at least it's not tacit. Besides, he's a bit more focused on the blue sweat the templar wipes away from his face. Carver frowns. "I heard skin was turning a tinge of blue, but not that you were excreting the bloody color."

[judgemewhole]

"... well apparently we've got this now." He sighed deeply, and tipped his head to the side. "Do you hear that? I think I hear a dog. Interceptor! INTERCEPTOR!"

[unshadowing]

Well, there goes Carver's eardrum. Thanks bud. "Ow. And no, I don't hear a dog. Not that I'm hearing anything out of that ear anytime soon."

[judgemewhole]

"...are all Wardens so very sensitive to sound? I know Inessa is not." He eyed Carver, "How long have you been a Warden anyways?"

[unshadowing]

"And are all templars so ill-humored and annoying?" He pauses, then adds, "Oh wait, I already know the answer to that." Isn't he so delightful? "Over a decade. What's it matter to you?"

[judgemewhole]

"...Only the really good ones." He stated with equal amounts of snark. Bring it on, Hawke. So delightful in turn. "Just curious if you were one of the good ones or the bad ones."

[unshadowing]

"Of course. The longer you're one, the more of a prig you become." This is the start of a beautiful friendship, clearly.

But what humor Carver had - however sarcastic and barbed - disappears. "What's that supposed to mean? You mean one of the ones who helped Clarel or the First Warden with his damned coup?" Oh that just pisses him off. He's very tempted to just shove James off and leave him be. "I wouldn't bloody be here if I was mad enough to join up with that lot."