WHO: Araceli Bonaventura; open WHAT: Kirkwall adventures WHEN: Kingsway WHERE: Kirkwall + Wounded Coast NOTES: Hit me up on plurk/discord for a closed starter or put something up and I'll roll with it, starters in the comments
"Being a bard is different." His form is...sloppy, heavy-handed, still this side of a beginner. But he manages. For now, he comes to a stop, floating, gently kicking legs and waving his arms enough to keep afloat. "Because a bard's not just someone versed in all the arts." Oh sure. There are bards that are just bards. But some bards are more. Some are spies. Assassins. Scouts. "But also, because a bard's versed in all the arts. That's not the augh something touched my leg!"
He flails in an instant, goes under, and it's a hectic few moments before he's back up and swimming. Fuck this conversation, he's heading for land. And it's record time (for him) in reaching the skerry, slapping a hand against the rock, sliding a little as he clambers up.
"...I think it was just a fish. So now I feel, y'know, sufficiently stupid."
"In some ways," half an agreement because there's the side of being a bard that's lonely. The door open until it isn't, the way that you are watched, weighed, measured but in that respect how is it so different to being a rifter, to being the common girl risen to the ranks of queensguard? That's breathing to her. "But the arts very much matter, if you fuck up in front of them there they'll eviscerate you and you'll wish it had been a knife somewhere spilling everything out through the petticoats."
Almost a relief at the Winter Palace to have the invasion, the fighting, to drop the lute and the playing her polite little part of curiosity behind the mask to have her blades out with a small pack of terrified nobles stinking of perfumed sweat behind her. That idea cuts short, her hand grabbing his wrist to assist in hauling him up, steadying him.
Araceli's small but stubborn, she can tug hard when she has to.
"There was at least one octopus not long after we came here, nothing terribly exciting. No sharks." As she smiles with as many teeth.
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He flails in an instant, goes under, and it's a hectic few moments before he's back up and swimming. Fuck this conversation, he's heading for land. And it's record time (for him) in reaching the skerry, slapping a hand against the rock, sliding a little as he clambers up.
"...I think it was just a fish. So now I feel, y'know, sufficiently stupid."
no subject
Almost a relief at the Winter Palace to have the invasion, the fighting, to drop the lute and the playing her polite little part of curiosity behind the mask to have her blades out with a small pack of terrified nobles stinking of perfumed sweat behind her. That idea cuts short, her hand grabbing his wrist to assist in hauling him up, steadying him.
Araceli's small but stubborn, she can tug hard when she has to.
"There was at least one octopus not long after we came here, nothing terribly exciting. No sharks." As she smiles with as many teeth.