Pvt. Leonard L. Church [A] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
motherfucking_ghost) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
faderift2015-12-06 04:38 pm
motherfucking_ghost) wrote in faderift2015-12-06 04:38 pm
Entry tags:
at any second now I think it all might fall apart
WHO: Leonard Church and open
WHAT: Loud-mouthed Rifter is loud. He also has a body with which he's kind of trying not to get dissociated from. So that's a thing. Rifters gonna rift, basically.
WHEN: In the days after the scouting trips have left
WHERE: Around Skyhold
NOTES: N/A
Kitchens
Church has...slowly been picking things up in his stay here in High Fantasy Land. Adelaide's stern warning not to go around telling people he was a ghost (or, apparently, some manner of spirit-and-or-demon) has so far been heeded, since it seems there's already an air of distrust, and, well, he'd really rather not get a sword through the gut. But it still might come out.
Because the other thing he's been picking up in High Fantasy Land is getting used to a real boy's body. Sure, a lot of it comes naturally. Walking. General movements. Blinking. Breathing. Automatic functions. But there's also the stuff he's become more consciously aware of. That he still knows how to do, technically, but his hole-filled memory means remembering eating a chicken leg is one thing, whereas the realization that he has, in fact, never actually eaten before slides unsettlingly into place.
Maybe the food here isn't that good and isn't that much, given how many people the Inquisition has to feed, and maybe some people are miffed that someone who technically isn't part of the Inquisition gets to have a share (cuz, y'know, where else are Rifters gonna go until the ~phenomenon~ gets better researched), but here Church is, at some point or another, savoring. The first meals he's ever technically had. And he's decided that eating rocks. It's no wonder Grif does nothing but fucking eat.
Stables
A stable (heh) sleep schedule is still so far elusive. Again, he remembers sleep. He's also pretty sure he could sleep (or...power down or get put into sleep mode??) before, but it's kind of like interdimensional jet lag. And trying to let his body work out how much sleep is too much or not enough. It basically being winter now isn't helping, when the sun comes up late and goes down early. Hell, he's used to planets where the sun basically never sets!
It isn't like Church has an particular fondness for animals, that he knows of, but he hasn't visited the stables yet, so why the fuck not. And despite all the open air, it's actually pretty cozy and warm in here. When he sits on a bit of hay, look, he doesn't mean to nod off, but his body decides, yep, this is a good place for a nap.
A horse may or may not be chewing on his hair.
Armory
It's probably a bad idea to argue with someone who not only has a lot of weapons and armor around, but makes them. For a living.
So obviously that's what he's gonna fucking do. Because there has got to be something better. The argument started as mere conversation but has slowly and steadily reached a volume where a small gaggle of onlookers has stopped to watch how long until Church is hefted up and physically thrown out.
"Do you see what this means?!" he goes on, pointing to his sharded hand. "It means I'm from somewhere else, a place where I know a little bit more about otherworldly weapons than you probably do! So when I say," he continues, emphatically motioning the whole while, "hey, that's cool what you've got there, but do you have anything else, like any of these rad future weapons, you're supposed to say, gee, that sounds cool, why don't you tell me about them! Not threaten to bean me over the head with a helmet! I'm just trying to help!"
Needless to say, the armorer is Not Impressed with the 'rad' and 'cool' 'future' weapons Church is attempting to list. Something something plasma sword (that is, somehow, also a key?), something something assault rifle, something something basic fucking gunpowder how far behind the times are you people?!, and the like.
And don't even get him started on leather as armor. Puh-lease.
Or catch him elsewhere!
WHAT: Loud-mouthed Rifter is loud. He also has a body with which he's kind of trying not to get dissociated from. So that's a thing. Rifters gonna rift, basically.
WHEN: In the days after the scouting trips have left
WHERE: Around Skyhold
NOTES: N/A
Kitchens
Church has...slowly been picking things up in his stay here in High Fantasy Land. Adelaide's stern warning not to go around telling people he was a ghost (or, apparently, some manner of spirit-and-or-demon) has so far been heeded, since it seems there's already an air of distrust, and, well, he'd really rather not get a sword through the gut. But it still might come out.
Because the other thing he's been picking up in High Fantasy Land is getting used to a real boy's body. Sure, a lot of it comes naturally. Walking. General movements. Blinking. Breathing. Automatic functions. But there's also the stuff he's become more consciously aware of. That he still knows how to do, technically, but his hole-filled memory means remembering eating a chicken leg is one thing, whereas the realization that he has, in fact, never actually eaten before slides unsettlingly into place.
Maybe the food here isn't that good and isn't that much, given how many people the Inquisition has to feed, and maybe some people are miffed that someone who technically isn't part of the Inquisition gets to have a share (cuz, y'know, where else are Rifters gonna go until the ~phenomenon~ gets better researched), but here Church is, at some point or another, savoring. The first meals he's ever technically had. And he's decided that eating rocks. It's no wonder Grif does nothing but fucking eat.
Stables
A stable (heh) sleep schedule is still so far elusive. Again, he remembers sleep. He's also pretty sure he could sleep (or...power down or get put into sleep mode??) before, but it's kind of like interdimensional jet lag. And trying to let his body work out how much sleep is too much or not enough. It basically being winter now isn't helping, when the sun comes up late and goes down early. Hell, he's used to planets where the sun basically never sets!
It isn't like Church has an particular fondness for animals, that he knows of, but he hasn't visited the stables yet, so why the fuck not. And despite all the open air, it's actually pretty cozy and warm in here. When he sits on a bit of hay, look, he doesn't mean to nod off, but his body decides, yep, this is a good place for a nap.
A horse may or may not be chewing on his hair.
Armory
It's probably a bad idea to argue with someone who not only has a lot of weapons and armor around, but makes them. For a living.
So obviously that's what he's gonna fucking do. Because there has got to be something better. The argument started as mere conversation but has slowly and steadily reached a volume where a small gaggle of onlookers has stopped to watch how long until Church is hefted up and physically thrown out.
"Do you see what this means?!" he goes on, pointing to his sharded hand. "It means I'm from somewhere else, a place where I know a little bit more about otherworldly weapons than you probably do! So when I say," he continues, emphatically motioning the whole while, "hey, that's cool what you've got there, but do you have anything else, like any of these rad future weapons, you're supposed to say, gee, that sounds cool, why don't you tell me about them! Not threaten to bean me over the head with a helmet! I'm just trying to help!"
Needless to say, the armorer is Not Impressed with the 'rad' and 'cool' 'future' weapons Church is attempting to list. Something something plasma sword (that is, somehow, also a key?), something something assault rifle, something something basic fucking gunpowder how far behind the times are you people?!, and the like.
And don't even get him started on leather as armor. Puh-lease.
Or catch him elsewhere!
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