[open] darkness is a harsh term, don't you think

[onlyhymns]

WHO: Cade and yooou
WHAT: just a catch-all with various Cadely activities
WHEN: Kingsway
WHERE: Kirkwall, mostly the Gallows
NOTES: the Nari thread is probably best left alone if you have delicate sensitivities, also possibly NSFW

I. Myrobalan's Office

During the day, Cade can be found doing his actual Inquisition-paying job, which is reading and writing Myr's correspondence and other related tasks. It keeps him pretty busy, he has a nice enough time there, and will sometimes work late copying records or text from books on loan. He's usually open to company on these evenings, as long as they're respectful of the space.

II. The Chantry Garden

Without fail, Cade is at the sculpture of Andraste every day at dawn, where he prays and meditates for an hour before going about his business. When she's not away on Inquisition business, Nari is usually there as well, but sometimes he can be caught kneeling alone with a candle in the peace of the morning.

III. Eating, Drinking, Walking Around

No matter where he is in public, Cade always looks a little uncomfortable, like he doesn't quite belong there and is afraid of being called out on it. He sits alone in the dining hall, will usually take tea up to the office or the library to hide with it while he reads, and averts his gaze from people on the street. It's nothing unusual for him, though there are plenty who consider him odd and off-putting. Because... he is.

Wren

Unable to get the idea out of his head after he and Six visited the City Guard, Cade has been steeling himself for a conversation with his... former..? supervisor, Ser Coupe. They're friends, he reminds himself, as much as he has any friends. He shouldn't be afraid of her. And yet.
He knocks on the door to her office.

Six

With their first mission such a rousing success (of sorts), Cade invited Six along for the next one, finding she was likely as good a fit as any for a full day of sitting in silence while a man talks their ears off about fishing. He wanted to meet a rifter, so one with an even temperament and quiet bearing will be perfect. Hopefully.

They're on a boat. No fish are biting. It is unseasonably hot, and Cade yearns for death.

Beleth

In keeping with the tradition of he and Beleth making sure the other one is eating enough, Cade is holding a basket of muffins when he knocks on her door. It's been a busy couple of months, but he should probably make sure she's not about to keel over.

Nari

When he knew what day she'd be home, Cade asked Nari not to go to the new room straight away, but to allow him to collect her at the quarters she shares with Myr. He wants to be there to see her reactions, and, of course, to make sure he didn't ruin everything.
Upon arriving, he offers out a little bunch of wildflowers, the blush on his face already spreading to his ears. "Welcome home."

Comments

II.

[connorrk800]

Connor sits for a long time before the statue of the Chantry's primary figure of veneration. He's very still, his head gently tilting to one side and then the other and looking as though he were listening to a distant song that only he can hear, or like an especially intent and curious Mabari.

This is the place where the humans, generally, go to contemplate the one they call 'the Maker.' It's curious how they have such a strong desire to know who created them. Connor had met his creator, been tested and found... 'fascinating.' He frowns. No, these memories belong to the deviant, his 'brother.'

Pulling out of his reverie, Connor accidentally makes eye contact with a man who had been meditating near him. He greets him with a slight nod. "Hello," he says. "My name is Connor."

[ooc: I think Cade and Connor would be really bad influences on each other, so let's introduce them!]

[onlyhymns]

Generally, because he doesn't like to be looked at himself, Cade doesn't look at the other people who come to pray. It's pure chance that the other man meets his eye, and, a bit thrown off by his directness, Cade blinks at him a moment before clearing his throat and replying, "hello. Um. Cade."

[connorrk800]

Connor instinctively nods deferentially. He doesn't have social programming to tell him the optimal behaviours, to help him integrate with human society- not that it worked all that well when he did... He does have some habits that seem to be an impression of that function, though.

"I'm sorry. I did not mean to disturb your contemplation. I'm new to Kirkwall-" others had warned Connor that his natural openness about his past, how he was a machine designed to accomplish a task and nothing more, would be unwelcome, not to say dangerous. He tries to be discrete. "Would you know if anyone can attend services here, or is there a preliminary procedure?"

[onlyhymns]

No one ever thought it possible, but it seems there is someone in the world who is worse at social interactions than Cade.
He stares at the man for a moment, struck by the off-ness of him, though he can't quite place a finger on it-- and opts to simply answer him at face value, with a small shake of his head. "Anyone can," Cade replies, his voice quiet, "if their heart is willing."

[connorrk800]

"Thank you." Then Connor simply stands there. He can't quite work out how to satisfy his curiosity without drawing undue attention to himself. Drawing attention to himself is dangerous, so he's been informed. He regrets belatedly that he hasn't thought of a convenient cover story. So far, he's been able to vaguely imply he is from Thedas- or at least allow those around him to believe so. But with something so foundational as the Chantry, Connor knows he would need to provide answers he couldn't give if he were pressed on why he doesn't understand... well... anything.

But he's doing it anyway- he's drawing attention to himself. He reaches back, into his memories, into what he remembers of his state-of-the-art social integration program. He needs to think of something, fast.

"So, do you like dogs?"

meee

[arlathvhen]

It has indeed been a busy couple of months, and while Beleth has been holding it together, she's starting to feel the wear and tear. She's lucky, perhaps, that most of the things that have been happening haven't been happening to her, she's just there for the ride, trying to do her job, and keep everyone in one piece.

So it's with a glad smile that she greets Cade and his muffins, opening the door and standing aside to let him in.

"Cade! What a nice surprise. Both you, and the food."

[onlyhymns]

He offers a smile to mirror hers, and comes forward to set the muffins on her desk. "You'd said..." he begins, assuming Beleth will pick up before he has to explain that she'd wanted to talk to him. This is the pattern with which he's become comfortable: implying something and having Beleth take it over. It works for them.

[arlathvhen]

Sure enough, Beleth has long since stopped waiting for Cade to continue. Instead, she thinks on what exactly she said--Ah! There's a moment of recognition in her eyes when she recalls that, then squints at the muffins.

"But that was for tomor--" Pause. What day was it? She turns her gaze out the window, then her face relaxes, and she sighs. Today was, in fact, the tomorrow she'd mentioned. Which was just more proof that she needed these precious few moments where she can set aside her work and just enjoy the company of a friend.

It'll also be good practice, telling Cade something that she hasn't yet told anyone else. She isn't exactly sure how Cade will react, but she's sure that it won't be quite as much of an issue as it could be with others. So, first fetching herself a muffin, she takes a seat in one of the seats in front of her desk, gesturing for Cade to take the other.

"I apologize. Things have been...hectic, lately. But how are you doing, Cade?"

[onlyhymns]

Cade sits as instructed, glad Beleth drew her own conclusion about today being tomorrow, since he didn't want to be the one to tell her. Once seated, he offers a small, pleasant shrug that glosses over the usual ups and downs of living his very anxious life.
"Fine," he says, easily enough. Perhaps he'll bring up Nari at some point, but that still seems like a secret somehow. Besides, Beleth wanted to say something to him.

[arlathvhen]

Well, at least 'fine' didn't usually include any of the usual pitfalls that plagued Cade. No Seekers attempting to execute him, or getting stuck in the drunk tank, the lyrium in his blood trying to kill him, or whatever else could possibly happen.

It didn't leave much room for small talk--though Beleth supposes that she could prolong it, think of a series of random topics to dwaddle over. It's certainly not like Cade would press her for anything. But that would mean that it would hover over her, while she continued to dwell on it.

"I'm engaged." She drops it with no ceremony or warning, eyes preoccupied with the fascinating muffin in front of her. "My mother set it up, in exchange for the support of my clan and my future bondmate's clan in helping my brother push new policies through for the Dalish." She doesn't get into the details, but the bare bones resembles the politics of the human world closely enough that Cade should understand.

"There's been no dates set, as the clans were understanding in the importance of my work here, and that I not bow out of it at this point, though I suppose if this war is prolonged longer than their patience is pressed, I could complete the ceremony and come back here afterwards." She speaks of it with all the emotional depth of someone discussing a business transaction, still not meeting Cade's eyes. What else it, after all, but business? A transaction that would have occurred sooner or later, and her time in the Inquisition probably only served to prolong it.

it her

[nadasharillen]

It would be incorrect to say that Nari wasn't made curious by Cade's request, but she meets it with neither sign of that curiosity nor any attempt to pry further; she just agrees.

She'd considered packing while she waits for him, but it's only down the hall, and what belongings she has that are not still bundled together in a pack from the Arlathvhen are sparse, and in the case of the wood she's seasoning, relatively unpackable, so when the little glyph on the door chimes to announce a presence she's just lying on the bed far down enough to put her bare feet up on the headboard and staring contemplatively at the ceiling.

At the knock, which marks it not Myr, Nari swings her legs down and pads over to open it with a little crooked smile, already running her fingers back through the myriad of little braids a very cheerful and exceptionally dexterous young woman on the edge of getting her vallaslin had insisted on putting her hair into one evening after storytelling had finished, the gesture making the little beads of wood and bone woven through them click.

Upon seeing Cade—and his ears—her smile spreads farther. Upon seeing the flowers, it turns bashful with the little hint of hesitance that comes from not being at all used to having this kind of attention paid her. She reaches to take them with a great deal of care, rubbing the velvet of one petal gently between finger and thumb.

"Thank you."

[onlyhymns]

He doesn't know what kind of flowers she likes, if any, but Cade does remember that her friend was a gardener-- he was careful not to take them from the Chantry garden and risk offending anyone, so the gesture is there but hopefully without any ill meaning.
Nari's braids surprise him a little, but not in a bad way; he seems to give a little start, then his face reddens slightly in the way of someone seeing a face that somehow manages to be new at the same time that it was missed.
"You look nice," he says, and immediately catches himself in shyness, ducking his head to clear his throat in his hand. Then, he gestures with it toward the hallway, blushing harder. Welp, here goes.

[nadasharillen]

(This kind of flowers, she likes this kind.)

The compliment takes her by surprise and, given the timing of it all, the pair of them end up ducking their heads near simultaneously, although Nari recovers with another skim of fingers through her hair rather than a throat clear.

"I, um... so do... thanks," she replies, managing to combine the two generally appropriate responses into one halting failure that she decides is probably best overcome by just following the invitation of Cade's gesture with some alacrity.

[onlyhymns]

The walk to their shared room is a silent one, fraught with Cade's customary awkwardness, but there's a purpose to it that it usually lacks as he unlocks the door and holds it for Nari.

Within, the furnishings are solid but simple, all wood and cloth and somewhat rough-hewn, but he clears his throat so he can explain before she (as if she would) draws any untoward assumptions about the effort put in.
"I thought, um... you'd... you might want to... make it yours," he murmurs, stepping toward the table and resting a hand on it. The legs are solid and flat, the perfect canvas for a woodcarver.

As for the rest of what he's procured, there are two separate beds: a large and comfortable one for her, piled with pillows and furs, and a twin-size for him, simple but serviceable, his small chest of belongings already resting at its foot to indicate its owner. Both are separated from the greater room by delicate wooden privacy screens.

"I hope you don't-- um," Cade stammers, going beet red as he explains, "--I, um..." He gestures at his own bed, and the overall vibe is clear: they share a space now, but sharing a sleeping area is not a step he's able to take readily. Not yet.

[nadasharillen]

Although Nari wasn't entirely sure what she'd been expecting when she walked in, it certainly hadn't been this. It was simple and lovely and complete, and it takes her a moment to register what he'd said and gestured at.

"I-- of course," she replies to his halting mostly unsaid thought with a small reassuring smile and a slightly embarassed scratch of the back of her neck. This shared space was more than enough shift for now; she's not sure she could have handled anything else in the way of forward movement. Whatever forward movement meant. "It's perfect. Thank you."

She looks again at the care and consideration taken with the furnishing, peering at the table legs and already thinking about what to put there. Something like the balusters she'd done in the hall at Skyhold?

Wait a second, (she frowns thoughtfully,) there's memory attached to that. A tired, furtive, tense looking-- she peers at Cade consideringly and then lights up with a short delighted laugh. Oop. He'll think that's about something else. Better explain.

"I was thinking about the Skyhold reconstruction and... that was you, wasn't it? While I was doing the stairs." It had been such a small quiet moment it had gone forgotten in the torrent of everything else.

II

[montalis]

Why does Sunday always have to be right after Saturday? The Maker couldn't just squeeze a hangover recovery day somewhere in between? In all His sweet mercy? Nope? Okay.

As Luca tends to do now and again, he'd spent the night before in the tavern, knocking back pints of ale and singing nonsense battle songs with the soldiers and the few Templars that show. Of course, he never wears his Seeker gear for this, just as he isn't wearing it now, and just as he never puts it on unless on official Seeker business. Sort of defeats the purpose to walk into a room and essentially announce 'I'm investigating you!' In plain clothes, he makes his way through the Chantry Garden to the self-same statue Cade prefers, gravel crunching under his boots and he goes. Sighing out, he plops down heavily on a nearby bench, peering around, left to right, before seeming to decide this is a good place for prayer.

"Don't mind me, friend." Luca tells him with a waved hand, should Cade glance up to him, as he turns, feet lifting to settle on one edge of the bench and head leaning back to lay out on the rest of it. "I just prefer to begin my morning praise horizontally."

[onlyhymns]

Cade wasn't minding him until he called attention to himself, and now he catches sight of the unfamiliar man and is... not impressed.
Luca receives a slightly judgmental narrowing of the eyes and wrinkling of the nose as Cade looks him over, but then returns to his meditation, opting not to immediately call out what a disgraceful sight the newcomer makes. Splayed out like a drunk in front of Our Lady.
Shameful.

meee

[swordproof]

Six shifts, sitting awkwardly beside Cade, frowning as she looks one way or another. Whatever this mission was meant to be, she thinks, she's not entirely sure this is what was intended. She feels too big and a little uncomfortable, head tilting to look at Cade before she glances out over the river, staring at the endless blue.

There's no fish. There's nothing but awkwardness, and she turns her head to stare at Cade. What has he gotten her into?

"Perhaps somewhere else."

[onlyhymns]

Literally the mission was to ingratiate this horrid, verbose, unstoppable man to the Inquisition and its Rifters, which, at the very least, is more or less what's happening.
Cade meets Six's eyes with a miserable look, willing her to accept his nonverbal apology for the torturous afternoon. When she suggests elsewhere, he nods, glances at their charge, and shifts back to take the oars, moving them a few strokes.

[swordproof]

She's doing her best, at least, and while she's hardly the most verbose of people - silence is better if there's nothing of worth to say, surely - Six is doing what she can. She is offering herself as someone to question, and that's all she can do. Being here for months makes her no authority, she knows that, but... She is making the best of it. Or, at least, trying to.

"It is rare that the fish are so quiet," she comments idly. "But I am sure some will be found soon."

Glancing at Cade, she tries to smile. Weakly.

[onlyhymns]

Six's comment barely seems to bounce off the Brother as he laughs and continues to prattle. At least the fish are quiet. At least someone is.

[limier]

"Come in,"

There are only so many people who trouble to knock. That doesn’t mean she’s expecting Cade.

Hands folded to face the doorway, eyes out the narrow window to the sea below — whoever she imagines might speak isn’t someone to put pretense before. She turns, and for a brief moment her face flickers in guarded alarm: the look of someone pulled abruptly from another place. It recollects itself with practiced ease; too late to hide the blow.

"Cade," She paces to the desk, a stretch disguised in steps lengthier than needed, the old shake-loose after a stiff watch. The motion hitches now where it didn’t a year prior. "What is it?"

Not that he's unwelcome. But for the most part, others darken her doorway when something's gone amiss.

He isn't an exception.

[onlyhymns]

"Am I interrupting?" he asks, stopping a few steps into the room, albeit without the usual fumbling shyness. Cade seems to have his wits about him today, and a trace of confidence, though his hands fold in front of him and give an anxious twist. Most things Wren deals with are more important than him, he wagers, and he can go and come back if she's deeply embroiled in something else.

[limier]

"No,"

She decides, and hopes it doesn't sound as though she's had to. A gesture to the chair opposite, a bit of rifling at papers — nothing needful of it, but it buys her time to recompose before leveling a glance up again. It sticks, where she least expects it: He looks well,

You know. Comparatively.

"Go on."

[onlyhymns]

He doesn't rush her, coming to sit instead with his hands folded in his lap, back straight and for all the world resembling a dog sitting up for a treat.
"I, um..." he begins, but stops himself, takes a deep breath, and forces it forward. No stammering and wasting time on this, he has to be assertive or there's no point at all.
"...I spoke to the City Watch with Six, not long ago," he begins again, "and it seems they need some help." Mostly staring at the desk in front of Wren, he glances furtively up at her face. Reading the temperature.