The Days That Bind Us 2: Still Bound

[exequy]

WHO: Mages, anyone else who cares
WHAT: Give us liberty or give us potatoes, or: a most noble strike for a most noble purpose, or: pissy mage babies throw a tantrum
WHEN: 14-19 Cloudreach 9:44
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: This is for consolidating RP regarding the strike. Your character doesn't have to be striking themselves to top-level or tag around, as long as it's tangentially related.

The morning of Cloudreach 14, with minimal fanfare, a significant fraction of the Circle mages working with the Inquisition across Thedas stops showing up for work. On the other hand, a significant fraction doesn't stop. But the not-working fraction is significant enough to cause problems, and for the Inquisition to not delay or prolong the discussions already set to take place at Skyhold with a few representatives of the aggrieved mages and a number of Templar and Chantry representatives.

In the Gallows, most of the mages who are refusing to work relocate—voluntarily, unless being scowled at by Kostos Averesch qualifies as being forced against one's will—to the dusty recruits' quarters in the former Templar tower for an indefinite, politicized slumber party, featuring uncomfortable bunk beds and a lot of unseasoned starches. For a cause.

ooc | Remember that striking characters are generally losing access to confidential information, Inquisition equipment or materials, and any amenities, comforts, or privileges beyond the "plain potatoes for dinner" and "not thrown out into the streets" level.

Comments

[exequy]

Kostos glares at him for a few seconds, silent, unsympathetic to the fact that Myr can't see the flat of course that is the fucking problem quality to the expression. But he isn't unsympathetic to the search for the roll—being something less than a monster, being actually something of an incredibly secret bleeding heart, just one that's bad at feelings and people and hardened especially toward people who make the other things his heart is already bleeding over worse.

So after those few second, he steps forward to pick up the roll, unannounced and unnarrated, and forward again to place it on top of the books, before he turns and walks the other way without comment. He's barely down the hall before his self-righteous anger sinks into a sulky and resentful shame. Completely Myr's fault he acted like a child—but he did act like a child.

Still, he doesn't turn around.

[faithlikeaseed]

He sits back on his heels as Kostos walks toward him, marking the footfalls--the pause--and a second pause and wondering only a little at it. No need to reach out and check that his lunch has been returned to him, though he does, and finding it right there back atop the books gets a murmured word of thanks out of him. Never mind Kostos had been the one to throw it in the first place; gratitude is a spinal reflex at this point.

One he's wise enough not to push, though. Books, roll, staff, self-- he picks the lot up with commendable grace, juggling everything without losing it (though the roll ends up in his mouth somewhere along the line; not enough hands) and pausing to orient himself. The nearest glyph pings quietly up ahead, which means he was going this way before--

All of that.

Brief as the interaction was, he'll be a long time thinking about it.