OPEN: Kirkwail

[faderifting]

WHO: Anyone
WHAT: Ghosts
WHEN: Wintermarch 20
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: OOC post. More content warnings than you can shake a stick at, probably, including allusions to slavery and violence in the body of the log post. Please use appropriate warnings in the subject lines for your own threads.

The storm sweeps in like an assassin: unexpected, in the dark, and throwing sharp pricks of sleet at exposed eyes and noses with expert aim and enough force to almost draw blood if the angle is right. Half an hour after the clouds crest the cliffs is all it takes for the city to retract indoors and huddle around fireplaces, settling in for a long night that will, unforeseen, turn into a long two days.

The Gallows, too, is pelted with ice; the walls of the cliffs and the fortress protect much of it from the worst of the wind, but when it can find a path over or through the walls, it slams through windows or doors to scatter papers and snuff out fires.

In the dark, in the rain, hurrying between towers or already accustomed to jumping firelight casting strange shadows and the wind howling like a wounded animal, people might be forgiven if they don't notice at first. But there's a hanging in the courtyard, a dozen translucent wisps of bodies dangling from the idea of nooses, and there's a girl's voice in the basement of the templar tower screaming for her mother, and there's a ghostly man in the library holding the blade of a knife to his palm and whispering this is it, this is it—or maybe there isn't, actually, when you lift your head to pay closer attention.

But as the night wears on they multiply, and they brighten, and even if you haven't noticed them, they begin to notice you.

Comments

[writteninblood]

"Could be worse," Sorrel soothes him, trying for humor because if Adasse's coping with a grin, he can humor him, "Imagine being a mage!"

It's a joke, you see. Some jokes are funny because they're ridiculous; others, they're funny because they're a little too true. But then, he sobers.

"This whole tower is full of people. They're all in the same state we are, and even if you could hide from it, there aren't enough beds, or enough Cocos, to go around. You're really good at calming me down, when I panic. Do you think maybe, you can give some of that, to someone else too?"

[gottakeeponejumpahead]

Adasse grimaced then, because he couldn't - he could not imagine living like this all the damned time. He'd go mad. Yet here was Sorrel, strong as steel, wrapped in the softest silk, with soft lips and soft eyes and he handled it every night. He cupped Sorrel's cheek them, a little smile still lingering, "Can't ever imagine being that brave, love. Not like you."

He straightens a little at that, his brown eyes narrowing a little as his mouth presses together, looking around them. He can hear them - screams from courtyards and rooms, all over the Gallows. Adasse squares his shoulder, lifts his chin.

"I can. I will. I'll do what I can to help while you're saving us all, ma vhenan.."

A pause, and those dark eyes search green ones, "Sorrel, be careful. Come back to me."

[writteninblood]

"I'll be fine," Sorrel promises, unable to resist the softness he feels at the endearment, sure that it shows on his face, "You be careful. Use the crystal to call for me. And I'll see you tonight, if nothing else. I promise."

No matter what happened, they could meet up again, as they always did. Sorrel had never been happier that Beleth was out of the Gallows.

"I promise."

[gottakeeponejumpahead]

Adasse nodded his head once, and pressed his mouth against Sorrel's quickly, before looking back at him with a faint 'Dasse grin. "Go save us from the things that go bump in the night, love."

He winked, then pulled back, huffing out a breath as he went towards the first scream he heard. He did look back, and wave to Sorrel, before he picked up his pace.

Tonight. He would see Sorrel tonight, because Sorrel never broke a promise to him.