SIX. (
swordproof) wrote in
faderift2018-12-07 05:57 pm
Entry tags:
( open ) black tears on my freckles
WHO: Six and you!
WHAT: Adalia is gone and things suck
WHEN: Post-Battle
WHERE: Gallows
NOTES: N/A, just sad bean
WHAT: Adalia is gone and things suck
WHEN: Post-Battle
WHERE: Gallows
NOTES: N/A, just sad bean
She has not seen her sister since before the battle.
Six's movement has been limited: her leg is still not entirely healed and the medical attention she was given was enough to get her walking, but she refused much else. She walks with a limp and a crutch, her eyes darting here and there as she moves around the Gallows, seeking out anyone who might be able to help her. She doesn't recognise everyone, even now, months behind her, and there's an edge of uncertainty that buries down inside of her, like a gnawing feeling in her gut.
She spends hours walking around, checking rooms, peering here and there. Her leg begins to ache, an agonising throb that makes her feel intense and pained, but she does not give up. Two wanders at her side, sniffing here and there, trying to find some trace of Adalia to follow. The fact that there is nothing makes her uncomfortable, and the sourness continues, settling on her face as she moves forward and ends up slumped in the corner of the training area.
With her broken leg and her cuts and bruises she can't lift a sword, but she can watch, set and a touch shattered, her frown set on her face and her eyes closing for long periods of time. There is no reason for Adalia to be on a mission, no sign of her being sent somewhere... There is no explanation that she wants to consider. It pains her.

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Reaching down, Six brushes her fingers over the Mabari's head before she nods, letting her hound rush forward to greet the other.
"I think he might. It would be good for him." And the bench would be more than welcome, considering how her leg is aching. Walking over, Six settles down, stretching her leg out in front of her with a soft noise of frustration, trying to swallow it down and calm herself as best she can. There is no need to show weakness.
"Does he play such games often?"
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As the pair rush to great each other, the elven Warden looks her over, trying not to appear as concerned as she is. No doubt Six is tired about inquiries to her health, as Inessa is about her own. "Catch? Oh yes, he has since he was a puppy. I think as he's grown older, it's more about making certain I get out of the office sometimes. However, this is for him more than me at the moment. Those muscles need to see some use while he heals from the battle."
And there it is, a light invitation to speak about it, if that's what's troubling Six. It's troubling many others, so she can't blame the other woman for dwelling.
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Lifting her head, she does what she can to appear less tired and broken, both in spirit and in body. It's not hard to realise the two of them are checking one another: soldiers recognise wars in others and after a battle such as the one they had just fought it is impossible to deny the worries one might feel towards a friend. Six is less subtle about her own examination, lips pursing for a moment before she shakes her head.
"I should entertain Two more." But her eyes dart to one side, looking at Inessa again, before she stares forward again, expression suddenly a touch harder. Darker. "I have lost my sister."
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However painful the latter fate is for Six, it's better than dying in Thedas. It has to be.
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"I believe so." Shaking her head, Six breathes out. "She did not die in the battle."
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"I won't stop searching for answers about all this, but I know that's little comfort when they are so slow in coming."
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She hopes Sarenrae will find her still.
"There will be answers. I know that. Until I learn them myself I will not be appeased, but I have no other means of controlling this situation. I am as trapped here as any other Rifter and I must learn to adapt."
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And doesn't that sting a bit, that an animal -however intelligent and lovely- is more highly regarded than an elf. It's one reason she's rarely seen outside the Gallows without her companion. She pauses, glancing down and giving Garahel some love. "...it sounds lonely, being raised that way. You can always speak of it if you'd rather, but I understand if it's too much. Time doesn't heal all wounds, I know."
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Gentle hands keep stroking over Two, his head and his face and back to scratch at his ears, and his behind wiggles in time with the pets, accepting them and enjoying them with a quiet little whine. Her hands only hesitate when Inessa speaks again and she pauses, breathing out softly before she looks over.
"... I did not grow up with a loving family," she admits, voice a touch lower, marred with some grief. "My father was not a kind man and I learned that at a young age."
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She reaches into her satchel to retrieve a couple of mabari crunch treats, to keep the dogs happy while they talk. As Garahel inhales his own, she nods grimly, her mouth forming a thin line. "It's a terrible thing, when those who are supposed to protect and nuture are instead the source of fear and pain. How long did you have to endure it before you could leave?"
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People do not expect someone her size and bulk to have elven blood.
"Fifteen years," she admits quietly. "I was fifteen when I left my town and escaped to join the mercenaries. I worked with them for almost seven years before I began my training as a Paladin."
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"It doesn't sound easy, but at least it was a life of your own choosing. I'm glad you were able to escape, and find your own path."
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"I found a path. I am not sure if it was the best one, but I hope that it is." Her hand lifts, touching the symbol around her neck. "Sarenrae guides me now. I could not ask for more."
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Perhaps one day...but that's not for Inessa to decide even if she could recommend it.
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The rest makes her pause, though, blinking.
"I am honoured," she says finally, voice soft. "If it were to ever change... I would be glad to try."