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WHO: Chloe Price, Prompto, Anders, aaaaand YOU.
WHAT: Catch all for March
WHEN: Various times in the month - one specifically for today (11th) though!
WHERE: Around the Gallows/Kirkwall in genera
NOTES: I don't think there's anything....????

i. [ closed to prompto ]

When you find out someone has a camera in a world where trying to explain to people what a picture is could take hours, you're gonna wanna take a look. Chloe's the curious sort by nature, always has been, and while there's a lot of things she's gotten particularly interested in in Thedas, having something that is futuristic for here but probably old school compared to what she's used to seeing is gonna make it to the top of the list of shit she wants to see.

So she may or may not be bouncing slightly with energy when she's waiting for Prompto, because she's never been able to sit still when she's excited, not since she was a kid, and who takes this long (never mind it's probably not even a minute past when they said they'd meet).

ii. [ closed to anders ]

One of these days, living in a world with magic would become sort of par for the course, and she'd stop being surprised by things she'd only ever heard about in her fantasy games being. Well. Not fantasy.

Today's not that day. She'd been bugging Anders, not for the first time this month, but he'd said something that more than stuck out. "Like a real griffon?" That was a stupid question. "I wanna see."

iii. [ open for the 11th ]

It was her birthday.

At least, if every bit of comparison she'd done to the calendar back home, it was. She thought about comforting herself with the idea that whole keeping track of how the planet rotated was probably drastically different (not to mention that I'm in a different universe thing coming into play) that it meant it could very well not be her birthday, but it hadn't lasted long. She wasn't sure how to process it; it wasn't like she'd celebrated much back home in years, but not even having her mom (or David, she guessed) there to try and get her in the mood to try was... weird.

So she had decided to make her way to some of the shops in Kirkwall, window shopping more than anything else, because it wasn't like she was good at saving money to be able to get herself something particularly nice. She could easily be found look at particularly nice papers wondering if they were worth the splurge or looking for something sweet to satisfy that birthday cake craving.

iv. [ open throughout march ]

Outside of realizing she was suddenly twenty, meeting griffons, watch Fern's anchor do crazy shit, and bothering her friends, Chloe was having an otherwise mostly uneventful time. Which was fine by her. Her life had had too much excitement for her tastes and she was glad to just be a little bored doing regular things. Regular... ish. Maybe some things were still weird, but they at least weren't resulting in anyone being sick or dying, and that was better than what it had been.

Sometimes she was in the library doing research like she was actually supposed to be. Other times she was working on designing a game board for the story she had in her head for her first campaign she had planned for all those who'd said they wanted to play. Sometimes she was outside tinkering with a broken cart, taking it apart and trying to figure out if there was anything she could do with it in order to improve it.

Or, and the most likely of the options, she was enjoying drinking, because what rebellious now-not-teenager didn't, really?

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The best bakeries--the ones full of treats and pastries that actually taste good, rather than look like fine art--are to be found in Lowtown. Which is convenient, since elves still aren't particularly welcome in Hightown, and that would make this random encounter on the street highly unlikely.

As it is, Fern is returning from a brief trip to the alienage when she glimpses a familiar head of blue hair snooping about near some of the more fragrant-smelling of the bakeries. She brightens immediately and, after adjusting her shopping basket over her shoulder, slips over to tap her on the shoulder.

"Out for a bit of shopping?" She's already smiling quite cheerfully once Chloe turns around.

Chloe had been practically drooling as she tried to figure out what she would (or even could) buy for herself in celebration, her stomach practically growling because really she just wanted to eat them all. It had been distracting enough that she hadn't even heard Fern approaching, jumping slightly when she felt the tap.

There's a grin as soon as she sees her, though, a hand running through her hair as she tries to make herself look cooler than she just had a second ago. "Yeah. I guess. More like window shopping, really."

Ellana tends to observe people. They fascinate her, because they all have stories that set them apart from one another, and from herself as well. Of course, observation can only take a person so far, because while she may be able to pick up mannerisms or attitudes, Ellana can't know a person's past just from looking at them. But looking at this one? She's very interested in this young woman with blue hair who is fiddling with a cart.

Walking over on near-silent feet, Ellana stops beside the rifter while she's crouched to ask, "Salvaging for parts? Or trying to fix it?"

He beams at the question. It's a popular one, and one of his favorite popular ones. Anders puts up the book he'd been paging through and stands, tilting his head toward the towers.

"A real griffon. Unless Buggsy has something to confess to me," he says with amusement. "And before you ask, I'd no say in her name... but I also have no problem with it. The woman who hatched and raised them named them all."

There are a lot of stairs, but it's Kirkwall. Stairs go fast when you're used to it and before long they're opening the door to where the griffons stay. "Don't make any sudden movements and you'll be fine. They're curious, they're likely to crowd you a little, but they know not to bite by now."

Don't worry, Chloe--Fern always thinks you look cool.

In fact she's momentarily distracted by how nicely Chloe's hair falls back into place when she does that, torn a bit between admiration and envy (Fern's hair feels like a mess no matter what she does with it), then comes back to herself a bit. "Do you like scones?" she ventures and threads a bit of hair behind one ear, a nervous tick, then gestures down the narrow sandstone street a bit. "There's a very nice place a bit further down the road, I used to stop by there when I'd be coming back from the Chantry forest."

(Which... is gone now, but she solidly refuses to let her spirits be diminished. It's a nice day for a trip through the market with a friend, and she's so tired of being upset about things she can't change.)

She's often got a companion in the library, little though he wants to be there, though at least Benedict isn't watched quite as closely these days and actually seems to have some small enthusiasm for his work.
He's in one of the window seats with a giant tome propped open on his legs, a half-drunk cup of tea off to one side and his eyes shut in a sunlit doze. The only difference between Benedict and a cat is the latter is less demanding.

"Scones?" She glances down the road like she could see the treats from here somehow, before looking back to Fern with a head shake. And quickly realizing that could make it look like she didn't like scones when-- "I've never had them," she clarified, blurting it out in a hurry like it was the most important thing that Fern know.

She cleared her throat after, looking at her feet for a second. "The restaurant my mom worked at did pies and cakes, but not scones. Are they any good?" She assumes they are or she wouldn't be recommending them. God dammit, Chloe, stop being so awkward for two seconds.

Chloe was flipping the reach socket over in one hand, the bar in the other when she heard the voice, looking up with some surprise. Being snuck up on wasn't exactly something she unused to, but damn if she wasn't always a little jumpy about it. She looks like she's considering the two options carefully, like they're somehow deeper than yes or no and clarifying which is her goal.

"Uh... both?" That's not quite right. "Figure if I can't fix it, parts will be just as nice. I'm starting to think the latter's more likely."

Buggsy. His 'before you ask' cuts her off just as she'd opened her mouth to make some snarky remark, which makes her shut it again with some amusement on her face. Well, he beat her to the punch. It's a cute name for something she's pretty sure has been used to frighten away evil for... centuries in mythology.

Stairs only go so fast when you've been smoking for too long for too many years, and even with the couple of months of having quit under her belt now, she's still the slightest bit winded when they get to the top, leaning over for a second to catch her breath and giving a sigh. Fuck, was she gonna be glad when she was in shape again.

"Cool, 'cause I like my fingers."

Normally she's not the sort to bother someone in a library of all places, but since she's both seen him here a couple times before, and sleeping in a public space is just kind of asking for someone to sneak up on you, isn't it? At least, that's Chloe's thought.

Which was why she's taken some quiet steps over to him, peering over his shoulder to see what's not got his attention. "... Glad to see your book's super exciting."

"Well I think so. I'm sure you'd find fancier stuff up in Hightown but--" There Fern pauses, frowning, before she makes herself go on with, "--they don't really like elves, up there. So, um, I don't know anything about those shops." This she adds on a bit hastily (and uncomfortably) at the end, because the takeaway here should definitely be about the shops, and not about anti-elf racism, naturally.

Smooth.

"A-anyway," she starts again with another nervous smile, and starts to take a few small steps in the direction of the Lowtown bakery she'd mentioned before, "the shop I like is, um. It's this way."

What a relief it is to show his camera to someone who knows what the hell it actually is. Aside from Kirk and Church, no one else had ever seen one before. And he met them when he first arrived, so it's been a year since he's last gotten to talk to someone new about it.

He arrives at the meeting spot, camera in tow. It's big, clunky, and definitely something only found in an antique shop back home. But here it works. Prompto grins as he holds it up to Chloe. "Here it is! I've got a dark room back in the Gallows and everything."

"That's usually the case if something's split or cracked," she replies, getting down on her haunches to take a quick look. She wouldn't consider herself an expert, but she was observant enough growing up to take note of how aravels move and how they break down.

Her eyes drift from the underside of the cart to this interesting rifter.

"Would you like any help? I'm pretty good at following directions. I'm Ellana, by the way."

The pause and the follow up to it made Chloe frown. They don't really like elves, up there. Just like when she'd learned about the (admittedly one sided) history of mages, she was starting to realize just how little she really knew about Thedas. The thought of Fern being treated differently just for being an elf made her jaw tense momentarily, like she had some strong words (and then some) she wanted to say to the people in HIghtown, but --

Then she was walking and she did her best to let go of it. Her hands found their way into her pockets as she followed, heading towards the Lowtown bakery and trying to remember she was supposed to be looking for a pastry for her birthday.

"Well thanks for the recommendation. Never cared for fancy crap anyway. It's always overpriced and the people around you while you're eating it suck." In case anyone ever wanted to know Chloe's opinion on rich people. "Not a way I wanna spend today for sure."

The only kind of camera that Chloe might ever care about - the sort that's got history attached. Which is why the moment that he holds it up she's looking it over, careful not to touch because what if she broke it? She breaks a lot of things. She'd never be able to fix it either. "Holy shit dude, it's giant." Way bigger than her dad's Polaroid or Victoria's stupid top of the line DSLR.

"Hard to believe people used to lug this shit around and still get awesome street photos."

"Mmm. It's too bad you guys don't have epoxy resin," she grumbled more to herself than to Ellana. She missed the modern glues from home. And her toolbox. What she wouldn't give to see her dad's toolbox again.

Still, despite her lamenting, she gave a smile as she looked back to her, giving a small little (and lazy) salute at the introduction. "Chloe. Charmed, I'm sure." She motioned for her to feel free to join, shifting slightly to make a bit more room, running her hand over the crack in the socket. "I'm still learning about the limitations in this place. I could probably use help all the help I can take for now."

"Epoxy," she repeats, sounding intrigued. "What a funny word. It sort of sounds like an illness. 'Oh, no! I've got the epoxy!' You know?" She chuckles, amused at herself, before settling down in a more comfortable position to see under the cart.

"Well, this seems easy enough to deal with, right? Or, at least, I'll bet the two of us can figure it out if we put our heads together." After looking at where Chloe is focused, she asks, "Now, should we be taking that off first?"

There's an amused snort and a short laugh earned from the comment, a nod following after. "I guess it kinda does. It's named after the chemicals used to make it, I think. Strong as shit, though. They use it to bind all sorts of things back home."

Her focus goes back to the cracked socket, mouth scrunching. "Probably. There's a uh - wrench by my bag, I think. Should work to get this sucker loose."

"Well thanks for the recommendation. Never cared for fancy crap anyway. It's always overpriced and the people around you while you're eating it suck."

"Cake should look like cake, not like--" Fern gives a vague gesture up towards Hightown again, "--I dunno, fancy furniture. Also I heard this servant in the Gallows once talking about these little cakes she had once in Orlais? They were made with deep mushroom." Judging by the face she pulls, ugh, deep mushroom cakes are not a good thing.

The shop comes into view ahead of them, but the smells emanating from it reach them far sooner; the warm scents of baking pastries of all varieties, sweet and savoury alike. Fern seems to brighten slightly the closer they get to it. "These are delightful," she assures her, "though not quite good as my ma's. Anyway," she adds, her curiosity getting the better of her, "what did bring you out here today?"

"Bind like stick together?" Because Chloe mentioned resin and Ellana knows trees have sticky resin. The other type of binding involves magic, spirits, and demons, and really doesn't make sense in this context.

Twisting around, Ellana spots it and reaches out. "Got it!" she announces, turning back and holding the wrench out. "Is the cart in the right position? I mean, if you take it off, will the cart collapse on us?"

The statement gets a chuckle as he holds open the door. "Most do, as far as I know. I've yet to meet someone who doesn't like theirs."

Inside there are a few griffons, a white one puffing out its chest, another flapping its wings, but it's a grey one that gets up and makes her way over to them, bumping Anders insistently in the midsection. "And this is Buggie. She's... a little like a cat, really, expects you to pay the most attention to her, but she deserves it."

Anders happily scratches her head with one hand while pulling out some strips of dried meat from his pouch with the other. "Would you like to feed her? It takes being a little watchful, but she's used to it."

Her description of the fancy cakes in Hightown got a laugh out of her, the idea of any kind of mushroom being used to make a cake getting her to pull a face. There was a very specific flavor that cake was supposed to have and any kind of vegetable was not it. Except maybe carrot, but even that had better taste more like spices and cream cheese than carrot itself. "Sounds like it's best avoided. Rich people have no taste buds, I swear."

The smile stays on her face when she smells the pastries, her stomach practically growling alright. Delightful was exactly what she was looking for. She was going to make some remark about nothing ever being quite as good as a mom's baking, but then she asked her about what brought her out, and it cuts her off. Lifting a hand, Chloe scratched the back of her neck a little awkwardly, almost looking bashful for a second.

"It's uh... my birthday. Figured I'd treat myself to something nice."

Birthdays are close enough to namedays in Thedas for Fern to know that they are a Big Deal. Or, at the very least, that they can be a big deal, and knowing that is enough to make her slow to a stop, her eyes widening in surprise. After a solid second or two of shocked silence, she smiles and reaches out to give Chloe's arm a gentle touch. "Chloe, you should have said something..!" After a moment of private deliberation (in which her eyes rest on Chloe's bashful expression, seeing that look without quite knowing what to make of it), she summons her courage and offers, "Well--let this be my treat, then. For your birthday."

"Right? Weighs a ton, too. I've gotten used to it, though." Helps build muscles, he's realized. Now he's got a gun and guns amirite?? "You gotta do so much prep work and set up for it, it's nuts. But it beats no camera at all, and it's legit vintage photos. You can't get much realer than the ones that come outta this."

"Yeah, exactly." She didn't know a lot about magic to realize there was a different definition or she might have clarified from the start. "You can use it to make sure nothing budges no matter how hard you tug. It's good for fixing cracks like this for sure."

Taking the wrench from her, she wonders whether or not the other pieces of the cart are strong enough to keep it upright even if she removed the socket. Her mouth scrunched, before she gave a small grunt in response, like that was a coherent answer. Words, Price. "Let's tilt it on it's side, just in case."

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