Open | Words in my mouth

[keenly]

WHO: Colin + you
WHAT: Catch-all for February
WHEN: February/Guardian
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: Starters available by request.

Clarke - Apothecary

Once the ghosts are gone and Colin is permitted back to work, he finds himself short of almost everything. He's come back from the garden with a fresh batch of winter herbs to dry and is hanging them in the closet when he hears the door open.

"Right with you!" he calls out, voice muffled by the wooden walls. A second later, he's walking out and shutting the closet door behind him, giving Clarke a searching look.

Cade

There is a knock at Cade's chamber door; upon opening, he will find Colin there, looking a little uneasy but smiling wanly and holding a box.

"You didn't pick this up," he says, offering the lyrium.

Julius

Colin arrives at Julius' work space with a box of cookies. He gives a little wave and sets the box before him. These are spicy, chewy things with bits of candied ginger. He heard how bad things got here, and it sounds like Julius could use a lot of delicious cookies.

Byerly - Lexie's apartment

"So." Colin shows Byerly in to where he has light refreshments set up--tea, anise seed cakes, and buttered bread. A small smile is on his face. "I had to learn your name from someone else, but at least I got it."

It's a light jab; there are no hard feelings here. He pours tea for his guest.

Lexie & Byerly - Lexie's apartment, a while after By arrives

Of course, it's too much to hope they could chat in private about things no one is supposed to know about. Colin asked the servants to take a break when By arrived, but didn't realize they hadn't stopped working after they left. It's not really an underestimation of them as much as of Alexandrie, who he has slowly come to realize has way more of a past than she will ever admit to him. Which is just.

Fine! It's fine. It's, it's fine. It's fine!

Myr - Delivery

A package is delivered to Myr's doorstep. It is full of sketches. The first is an abomination, not drawn in great detail except for the tattered remains of an apprentice's robe around its waist. There's page after page of hands, the same pair of hands in various positions--clenching, scratching, clawing, clinging to brick and mortar. There's an almost informative sketch of a fortified wall--two layers of stone sandwiching crumbling clay. A templar with a terrified face. The Great Doors, shut so tightly not even light can get through. Wide-open faces of screaming mages. Shallow-eyed corpses. A glimpse of a lake beyond broken brick. Dirt under fingernails, a pair of twisted legs learning to walk.

Wildcard

Comments

Meee

[onlyhymns]

Cade is slightly disheveled when he opens it, and looks like he's been ill, or... perhaps just very tired, or had his face powdered and his eyes reddened by a marauding makeup artist. Nobody ever comes to the room he shares with Nari, and what begins as suspicion yields to immediate embarrassment when he realizes what's happening.

"I've been--" he stammers, taking the box, "--out of..."

Stepping back from the doorway, he moves to bring it inside, but doesn't invite Colin in. It's a nice corner room as seen from the doorway, with a small living space with a table between a double bed on one end and a single on the other, separated by privacy screens. Cade moves toward the single bed's nightstand, where he finds a pouch and brings it back over to the doorway, mouthing the numbers as he counts coins from it.

[keenly]

The nervous smile is sapped away at the sight of Cade. By the time he returns with payment, Colin is shifting his weight from foot to foot, working himself up to something.

“Um. Have you been, um, have you been f-feeling ill? Trouble sleeping, stomach discomfort, any of that?

[onlyhymns]

Though he looks like he might protest, Cade catches himself and sheepishly nods. "Things got-- got a little difficult recently," he says, feeling strange for saying so, "but... as long as we don't have another... spirit situation, it should be fine."
He extends the coins to Colin, still in the doorway.

[keenly]

Colin isn't looking at the coin, only at the man. After a second, his shoulders squirm and he rubs the back of his neck. He does not take the coin.

"Can I get you to the apothecary for a minute? I'd like to get you some senna. Maybe some lavender." Definitely some lavender. He should probably compound an entire myriad of herbs for this man.

[onlyhymns]

That's a strange question, and Cade hesitates, but then he gives a small nod and glances around the room. "Like... ...like now?"

[keenly]

"Like now. If that's all right."

[onlyhymns]

"Oh." A pause, a blink once, twice, then Cade seems to trip over himself as he goes toward the table in the room. "Let me just-- leave a note," he stammers, scribbling something quickly onto a piece of parchment that he leaves sitting there. Then he turns back, grabbing a cloak from the back of a chair and fastening it at his collarbone, ready to follow.

[keenly]

When they get to the apothecary, Colin starts collecting herbs.

"You definitely have melancholia," he muses. "I'm going to get you some senna to help purge some of the black bile, and I'll want you to eat foods that strengthen the blood--stewed beef, spinach is in season, that sort of thing. And stick with things that are easy to digest. And, um. For the sleep."

He uses a spoon to measure lavender, chamomile, and a few other ingredients into a small jar.

"Do you, do you want to talk about what happened? I mean, I can always give you herbs, but sometimes it helps to...I call it 'naming the ghost.' But-but if not, I can, I can, I can--"

He takes a deep breath. Cade isn't doing anything. There are people right across the hall. But there was a man who looked rather like Cade, was Cade's age, had Cade's profession, and didn't care that there were people across the hall. Name the ghost, Colin. He draws up and gives a nod to himself.

"I can give you a sleeping draught."

[onlyhymns]

"Melancholia," Cade repeats, a bit helplessly, but otherwise lets Colin talk. It's easy to get caught up in all the words and instructions, especially when this person's energy is just as live as his own, the anxiety just as palpable; rather than feeling something in common, Cade feels it grating on him, increasing his alertness.

When asked to 'name the ghost', he stares for a moment, then vigorously shakes his head. "Sleeping draught," he decides quickly, feeling it necessary to leave as soon as possible, before he says or does something stupid.