[OPEN] I can't get by pretending it's okay

[amygdalae]

WHO: Bruce Banner and Anybody Else
WHAT: Everything Is Fine And Nothing Is Wrong: a premier by Bruce
WHEN: Haring 16 onwards
WHERE: All over Skyhold
NOTES: Mostly open post through the rest of December - prompts and such are under the cut. I'm starting in brackets, but feel free to switch to prose and I will follow accordingly! Also warning for angst and Bruce being Bruce.

one. making the rounds. (courtyards, most of skyhold)

[Almost one week later, Bruce still can't quite shake off the entire incident from his mind. Or rather, he can't shake off the image of the dead mage in his head when he finally made it out of the garden, the poor soul gone for good after what Adelaide and the others had done.

He couldn't blame them, of course - they were only doing what was necessary, what was right - but all the same it still reminded Bruce of the reality of what he was and how people would perceive him if they ever knew the truth. The moment they knew... nothing would ever be quite the same, that he was certain of.

He tries not to dwell on it too much, but it continues to haunt him through the day as he does his daily rounds. Having denied himself the use of his magic save for that one time with Cole, Bruce is still healing from the injuries he suffered from the abomination. There're bandages around his head and arms and chest (although the last is hidden underneath his clothing) but Bruce doesn't let those get in his way, just as he doesn't let the occasional throb or ache of pain from his still healing ribs stop him from doing his work. Some of his more familiar patients do ask him about it, but Bruce is quick to brush them off and turn the attention back to themselves. They are all far more important than he will ever be, after all.]

two. fixing the garden. (the garden)

[With how things had been that night the abomination had more or less left a good part of the garden damaged. That, of course, included the herbs that had been growing, which was most likely going to cause some issues in the near future.

Still, at least its not like they're gone forever. Bruce drops by the garden whenever he can, helping to get the earth ready once more so that a new batch of herbs can be planted with the hope that they'll grow properly and without interruption this time around. It hard labor, yes, but at least the work helps Bruce to temporarily keep his mind off the more dangerous lines of thoughts that he knows he shouldn't dwell on. How long that works, though, is another thing entirely.]

three. midnight wanderings. (battlements and library)

[The thoughts never leave him, not really, and Bruce knows full well that he's going to have to deal with a good while of not being able to sleep properly. Sleepless nights are practically an old friend to him now.

That doesn't mean he will let himself waste his time - since he is awake he might as well make full use of what he has. On some nights he can be found on the battlements, brewing potions up there in the quiet that's only broken by the footsteps of the night patrol. On other nights he might in the library instead, perusing several books and if one manages to catch him at the right time, will see that it pertains to abominations and other such things related to them.]

wildcard.

[Feel free to throw in your own prompt or PM/contact me to plot out stuff!]

Comments

two

[eolasemah]

Their gardens... their poor gardens, with the newly begun collection of rare herbs, with her wisteria, the flowers she'd cultivated so nicely. They were dug up or burned out or damaged by magic, and after all the hard work they'd done.

Sina had come to visit as soon as she'd been well enough to walk, and had promptly dropped to her knees and wept at the sight of it. It was the one part of Skyhold that had been starting to resemble a home, and she couldn't have predicted how much it hurt to see it all but demolished. This compounded with the terrifying memory of the abomination, how it had erupted into being right here in front of her; it was too much.

When Bruce entered the cloister he would be met with the kneeling Sina's back to him while she hunched over and sobbed into her hands.

[amygdalae]

The gardens - or at least the most of it - were all going to need a complete makeover after the damage that it had been sustained. Bruce already did his best to get a start on with along with anybody else willing to help, but it was clear that any semblance of proper gardening was going to take a while to begin once more.

That didn't mean they couldn't try to push it as much as possible. With some spare time on his hands Bruce decided to use on the garden - but he certainly didn't expect anybody else, so when he was finally there he blinked in surprise at the sight of the elf there... and then quickly became concerned when he heard her sobs.

"--are you alright?" he quickly asks after moving to her with equal swiftness. He doesn't make a move to touch her, not wanting to cause even more distress, but he does stay close, crouching down as well so that it would be easier for her to talk to him.

[eolasemah]

"It's all ruined," Sina whimpered, "everything we did-- all the rare herbs..." She caught her breath and rubbed at her eyes, wanting to collect herself now that someone else was here. "...we've worked so hard," she continued, but trailed off, pressing her hand to the still-aching shard in her chest. She was no longer sobbing, but tears still streamed from her eyes as she slowly and carefully got up.

Two

[demonicbeauty]

Ariadne liked to keep busy. And she liked to keep a low profile. It resulted in a lot of simple labor, a lot of fetching and carrying. Occasionally, she would play her flute for the children.

But she had a talent far greater than music (or stealing, but that was another story) and it was gardening. It was a private little joke back home that she had a green thumb. Mostly since all her fingers had been green before coming through the Rift and it took her forever to actually understand what the expression meant.

When she could, she'd try to lend her services to gardening and planting and reaping. It was good to be connected to the land, even if it wasn't her own. And she was enjoying learning all about the new herbs and flowers.

It was something of a surprise to see Bruce there that afternoon. Not that she minded. Any familiar face, at this point, was something of a comfort for her.

"Hello, Sir Bruce," she said, bowing her head.

[amygdalae]

Bruce looked up at the somewhat familiar voice, blinking for a moment before he could put a name to the face that he was seeing. A lot had happened recently, and even the Herald's funeral seemed like something so long ago although it was only two months before.

"Hello," he returned, doing his best to manage a smile back in return. "Are you here to help with the garden?" It could certainly use with whatever help it could get - the abomination's attack had more or less upturned all of the work put into it, and with the winter getting harsher it was going to be harder to grow anything at all, now. If they could even manage a fraction of what had been going it would be of great help.

Gardens

[dreadinquisitor]

They'd tried, he and the elf woman. They'd pulled and dumped the buckets as quickly as they could, but still so much had been lost.

Maxwell stood in the garden, surveying the damage, his shoulders slumped glumly. The corner he'd made for himself had mostly survived, but the trunk of the tree was blackened and the grass and flowers were withered and the belongings he hadn't been able to grab had been singed and scorched. The candle he'd left out, waiting for Gavin, had melted into a pale puddle, looking like a strange stone upon the ground.

He nudged it free from the earth with the toe of his boot and bent to pick it up with a heavy sigh.

[amygdalae]

Bruce had went off momentarily to bring out some of the ruined stuff outside where they could be dealt with later, and when he returned was surprised to find somebody else suddenly here. He didn't seem to be somebody who Bruce was familiar with.

He watched for a moment as the other person bent down and picked up something he couldn't quite see from where he was. Did he lose something? Bruce did find a collection of relatively intact items, so maybe...

"Are you looking for something?" he asks, as politely as possible as he makes his way to the newcomer, making sure to announce his presence so that the other party wouldn't get startled.

three.

[slipshot]

Gavin had somehow managed to fall asleep in the little corner between the wall of the battlement and the tower, and was snoring quietly to himself between shivers. He wasn't on duty or anything, he was just exhausted, but this was a particularly bad place to fall asleep as it was not warm at all, and since he hadn't intended on sleeping, he hadn't brought a blanket.

So it was either a very cold gust of wind or the sound of Bruce coming up the stairs that startled him awake, and then made him sneeze. He looked up blearily, and offered Bruce a sleepy smile.

"Oh, Hey Bruce. How's it going?"

[amygdalae]

By all accounts Gavin was probably the last person that Bruce expected to see right there and then - but there he was, popping up where Bruce least expected it. Not that it was a bad thing, but Bruce wasn't entirely sure if he was up for company.

Considering how things were the last time, though, Bruce didn't quite have the heart to really try and turn him away. Instead he simply gave the elf a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, hoping that the darkness was enough to disguise the things he didn't want Gavin to see.

"It's alright." A total lie, of course, but if Bruce wanted to be honest pretty much every day of his life now was a lie in some fashion. But right now it just felt like it was all too transparent, from the aches in his body to the bandages that were still on him. He looked just about as good as he felt right now, which was bad - if not actually worse.

three; library

[spellwisp]

Reading by candlelight is supposed to be horrible for one's eyes, but there are fewer distractions after dark when most everyone else has gone off to bed (or the tavern, or patrol, or...) for the evening. And after the most recent incident in Skyhold, Alfsigr feels it's prudent to brush up on some of her magical knowledge.

The tricky thing is that she doesn't want anyone to think that she isn't prepared to defend herself from possession. Another benefit of the hour. So she stands among the shelves with a candlestick in hand, squinting at the spines of books, reading their titles. Shouldn't the tome she wants be right about here? She was certain she saw it there last week...

[amygdalae]

It's hardly a surprise that the whole incident with the abomination nags at Bruce, although his reasons are probably different from anybody else's. It rattles him with just how violently they're suppressed (even though he knows its necessary), and--there has to be a way, some how. Bruce knows that he himself is beyond saving but if there was a way to help others, to make sure that none of them end up just like he did...

That's the thought that drives him tonight, as he sits in the library, a book on his lap that he studies as closely as possible. This tome he had found had been particularly informative, and Bruce tries to digest as much of it as he could, hoping that somewhere in this book was an idea of how to help others in the future, to make sure that this whole thing would not happen again.

One - Courtyard

[fleurdesel]

[ All that has changed and she has not forgotten their brief meetings to sit quietly and drink tea, perhaps eat, and simply be. Though over the past few days they've both been sitting tense and to be quite frank, Bruce is one of the few people she'll let on that the aches from the burn linger. He's not beholden to her in any way, he owes her nothing, expects nothing. It makes him safe.

On time she ducks into his tent to fetch him, hissing as she straightens. ]

Come now, Bruce. We have both been working overlong today.

[amygdalae]

[In some strange way, Bruce has come to appreciate the daily ritual of sorts he has with Adelaide. It's strange because Bruce has never really allowed himself much of a schedule since his time in the Circle, and settling into Skyhold altogether has been a strange experience for him - even back in Haven things were still more hectic, everybody simply doing their own thing.

Bruce can't say that it's an entirely bad thing, though.

He makes sure to be in his tent when Adelaide comes for him, and hearing her hiss sends a pang of sympathy through him. Bruce knows entirely well that he could do more, and probably should, but there was no way he could risk his presence being discovered. It was always a hard struggle, and one that Bruce was not fond of.]

Pretty sure you've been working longer than I have. [He says quietly, and only with the small tinge of amusement as he makes a move to follow her out. He's got his bag with him, of course, since he'll probably do his rounds again right after he's done with Adelaide.]

one

[justice_is_blond]

"Excuse me." His voice is hushed as he gets up from where he'd been leaning against the wall and comes over to the bandaged man. He knows he looks a little rough and ragged around the edges, but being on the run did that. "Could you use some help?"

Maybe he should stick to the shadows a little longer, keep a closer eye on the place while he decides how safe it is or isn't, but neither Anders nor Justice feel good about not helping out when someone clearly could use it. One day it might get him killed. So be it. He'd already lived past when he expected. At least he wouldn't be utterly stupid and use the name that everyone knew.

"I'm a healer, Detlef, only just arrived. If you'd like I can take a look at what you've got wrapped."

andersssss

[amygdalae]

Bruce pauses in the middle of his walk at the unfamiliar voice, and then he turns, blinking at the stranger who's moving off from the wall he had apparently been leaning on. He looks entirely haggard and more like he could use some taking care himself rather than Bruce, but he doesn't voice that thought aloud. Bruce was hardly one to speak. Still, the offer of help was appreciated, even if Bruce did have to turn it down.

"It's fine," he returned with a shake of his head. "I'll heal up in time." He gave a smile, then, wanting to reassure the stranger that it wasn't any of his fault. "But I appreciate the offer. You should turn to others who need that healing more than I do, however."

more gardens I'm sorry

[harthad_uluithiad]

[ Sam spends a long while just kneeling in the dirt - longer than he should have, anyhow, with so much work to do.

But as he'd stepped into the garden and seen the awful state of it, he couldn't help but think of the images he'd seen in Lady Galadriel's mirror - crops and flowers alike crushed and snapped by heavy boots and trees ripped up by their roots. He'd thought himself safe here; not as safe as he'd felt in Rivendell or Lorien, perhaps, but safe enough. Now...now he's not so sure. And the gardens! It's such a waste.

Wiping away a stray tear, he sniffles heavily and gets to work, though he's perhaps a bit slower and more glum than usual as he starts gathering up the ruined plants, careful to check over them for any seeds that may yet be of use as he clears the ground for new plantings. ]

/inserts garden montage here

[amygdalae]

[Progression on the garden is slow - and they will probably be slow for a while until things get better for everyone overall - but everyone's doing all that they can to help. It will take a while, but eventually they will get somewhere. That, Bruce can be pretty certain about.

Though when Bruce meant 'everyone', he certainly didn't expect a strange... dwarf? being part of it. Or at least Bruce was certain that the person was a dwarf. It didn't exactly have the usual dwarf look to it, at least to Bruce's eyes.]

--hello. [He starts, slowly, more for himself than for the other party since Bruce isn't entirely sure about all of this. But if he's helping at least he isn't somebody out to kill him, hopefully.]

One

[noleechesneeded]

[Work is such an easy thing to distract oneself with, and Bruce is not alone in trying to do that. Simon needs the distraction as much as he needs to soothe his own guilt. When 'it' happened, the first thing he'd done was to take River and get her to safety. It was necessary and he wouldn't have done anything differently...but it meant that he wasn't there to help.

Of course he easily could have gotten killed if he'd tried, but the thought doesn't ease his conscious all that much.

Simon is returning to the tents, a package of clean cloth strips from the quarter master under his arm, when he spots Bruce in all his bandaged glory. He's seen the man around, it's impossible not to be at least passingly familiar with his fellow healers, but he's yet to really talk to him... Simon offers a nod and tight smile.]

How's your head?

[amygdalae]

[Bruce has seen the other man before, of course - he's seen him here and then where the other was making his own rounds, although there had never been a chance to really talk. (Not that Bruce minds, since he's never been much of a talker himself).

It's a bit of a surprise, then, when he's suddenly asked about his injuries, but Bruce manages to take it in stride. It is a little unexpected, but its not like its a bad sort of surprise or anything.]

It's doing well enough, all things considered. [He replies with a small smile, one hand unconsciously tracing the bandages.] I'm walking and talking, so that's good enough for me.

three. library.

[liberalum]

[ It doesn't take living in a decrepit mountain castle to drive Dorian to fall asleep in the library. There were late evenings of a tinier Dorian sneaking into the Pavus estate's extensive study and discovered fast asleep beneath a particularly weighty codex far beyond his reading level, and then later, when he took to his studies, late nights spent in the Circle's library only to wake up with inked notes printed backwards on his cheek. It really is his natural habitat.

And the chair he's claimed for himself is very comfortable.

He hadn't exactly meant to fall asleep here, anyway, which is also standard. There's a book in his lap that he was barely reading in the first place, and he has a heel kicked up onto a stack of books made into a crude footstool, and there is a small circle of undrunk wine nestled at the bottom of a wine glass that is perilously hooked in his fingers. While unconscious, the crook of his hand seems to keep it from slipping.

But then there's the sound of another person, creaky floorboards whining away, and he rouses easily from his restless Fade dreaming. His fingers twitch, the glass slips, and the delicate, near musical sound of shattering gives his position away while he's still coming to. Startling himself ever so, his heel jerks back from the books, which in turn, fall with a heavy clamour of leather and paper.

He blinks down at the chaos he's wrought at his feet, not quite cognizant to the fact that something woke him to begin with, and peers at the dark window. It's very late. ]

[amygdalae]

[Bruce always tries his best to keep his visits to the library as quiet as possible - one because its already so late into the night, and two because he knows that the things he wants to read will probably raise a few eyebrows if he did it in broad daylight. After all, there's no reason why somebody who's known not to be a mage would want to read up about abominations and demons.

As much as he attempts to be quiet, however, the floorboards quickly give him away, and Bruce winces at the sound that they make before the shattering of glass and the clatter of books direct his attention elsewhere. Thinking the worst, Bruce abandons all pretense of sneakiness and hurries over to where the source of the commotion comes from, and--]

--are you alright?

[It takes a moment for Bruce to recognize the figure of Dorian by the dim firelight -- and then after that the apparent mess that's now on the floor between them. Bruce only needs a second to process what's going on before he starts to apologize.] You were--sorry, I didn't mean to startle you awake. I didn't think that anybody was still going to be in here.

[It is, after all, very late.]

three. battlements

[colecomfort]

[The silence is broken by other things, though only occasionally. The scrabbling of tiny animal feet, for instance: a rat that's wandered far away from the basement for some unknowable reason, or a cat that's taken it upon itself to explore. These are rare, however, and quiet compared to the sound of flame and bubbling potions.

Tonight, there's something different. Shortly after the night patrol passes, there's a creaking of wood, the sound of a barrel being opened, and a light clanging of metal. If Bruce goes to investigate, he'll find Cole just in time to see him closing up the barrel again.]

[amygdalae]

[Though in the beginning Bruce had first come up here for the peace that it gave, nowadays Bruce found himself coming up to this spot more often than not. More than the peace it gave now, there was almost a sense of--familiarity that it brought to him every time he came up here. It was a feeling that he hadn't felt in a long time, and to be honest was strange to feel. Sure, he hadn't been in Skyhold for long, but with the Inquisition itself, however...

Bruce can't quite recall when was the last time he had been around the same group of people for this long.

He tries not to dwell on that, though, focusing on the now - which was to make his potions and relish the quiet of the night. He's been here enough times to more or less be able to know what the other sounds are and where they come from. Which was why when he hears the strange sound of wood and metal from seemingly so close by Bruce is more than a little alarmed. The patrol had just passed by, after all, so who would...

Leaving his concoction to boil Bruce stands up and moves towards the direction of the sound. It's only a minute or two before he gets to the source of the sound, and Bruce pauses when he sees the strange boy--Cole.]

...Cole? [Its strange that a spirit actually has any sort of name at all, but strange is pretty much a good part of Bruce's life and he can deal with it. Right now Bruce just looks between Cole and the barrel, mildly perplexed as to what was going on.]

One, but also Wildcard.

[hugeinorlais]

[It was never-ending. The world exploded, they put it back together, and it exploded again just for the trouble. It was enough to make a dwarf want to pull his hair out, or it would have been if he hadn't been so attached to how good his hair generally looked.

Skyhold was, once again, a bit of a wreck. It wasn't back to a dilapidated ruin, at least not as far as Varric's judged, but that was more a matter of personal taste than objective measuring. He was trying to get things done, insofar as he was able, and he'd decided to take a short break for a hot mug of tea. Of all things in this world, caffeine was the one he could depend on always, and so he'd taken no issue dragging out his mid-morning break.

This gave him a pretty good view of Bruce when the human walked by, or limped--Varric had seen enough proud people with broken ribs to know what the painful-torso-shuffle looked like, and Bruce was doing a pretty good rendition of that. They hadn't talked much, apart from some banter about his books a while back, but Varric was never one to let that sort of thing stop him.]

Well, you look terrible. Need a cup of tea?

[Varric considered his tea and then thought better. As good as Bruce's painful-torso-shuffle was, he had a introspective scowl so distinctive it was worth an honorable mention or five.]

Or maybe a flask of whisky? I'm sure I've got one on me...

[amygdalae]

[Bruce paused and turned his gaze over at the familiar voice, blinking at the sight of Varric nearby with a cup of... something. Tea, apparently.

He smiles and shakes his head at the offer, being as polite as he possibly can while he turns down the dwarf's kind offer.] It's alright, I don't need either of those. Thank you for offering, though.

[He was never one to agree with alcohol, and he doesn't want to take anything that was clearly meant for Varric - doubly so when he could probably get it for himself.]