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

[bouchonne]

"Don't be ridiculous, dear creature," Byerly responds, crossing his long legs at the knee. He's tense, in spite of himself, in this space; it's haunted in a way that sets his anxiety on edge. But to confess to his discomfort would be to give this child some view into his soul, and he'd sooner not.

"We've met before. Remember? I had a head-wound. You had...some other injury, I presume; I wasn't paying attention to anyone save myself."

[keenly]

And now Byerly can continue to familiarize himself with Colin's particular brand of restrained eyeroll-that-doesn't-quite-roll-enough.

"And you were very pointed in not telling me your name," he reminds the man, sitting and pouring his own cup.

[bouchonne]

"Was I? How strange for me." By lifts the tea, and sniffs it - and wrinkles his nose, clearly disapproving of something.

"Normally I'm quite the egoist. Well, blame the head-wound. Still, how flattering, that you continued to pursue me."

[keenly]

"Or, we were both flagged for the same project?" Colin blows across the top of his tea--not because it's too hot, but because he likes seeing what it does to the swirls of steam coming from the surface.

"The, um, the reading thing you can do." He glances at his guest. "Like how you worked out I'm a mage. Does that mean you're a professional?"

[bouchonne]

"That doesn't mean I'm a professional. It's a skill I developed well before I went to work. But - "

He plucks up a piece of bread, studying it with a critical eye.

"I do receive pay for what I do. Why? Looking to earn a few silver off this?"

[keenly]

"No." Flat and to the point. "I don't actually want to do this at all. But since I'm doing it, apparently, I'd like to do it well."

[bouchonne]

Byerly responds with an arched eyebrow.

"I don't see the knife to your throat, forcing you to do this. Where is it?"

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]

In the scoutmaster’s hand, he might say, but he has a vested interest in not doing that.

“It’s a war. I’m part of a division, and I have been given an assignment.”

[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?

[bouchonne]

"You can run away." A casual shrug. "They've hardly the resources for tracking down deserters."

[keenly]

"Oh." The word drips with sarcasm.

His attitude quickly shifts as one finger taps the tabletop. They're here for a reason. And he likes Byerly, really.

"So, what should I know, exactly? Are there commandments for spies?"

[altusimperius]

It's some impossible hour of the morning, 2am or so, when a weary young voice crackles onto Colin's sending crystal.

"Wake up," it growls, "and come to the guest apartments. We've got a problem."

[keenly]

There’s the sound of shifting blankets, and a second later, the clatter of someone picking up a live crystal. A series of completely unintelligible mutters comes forth with the cadence of a question.

[overharrowed]

Baked goods definitely will not go amiss. Julius, contrarily, looks a bit better than he has, at least physically. He's still got his staff propped nearby, as much to lean on as for anything else, but his color is better and if he's still bandaged, it's lightly enough that his robes and boots can conceal the damage. His demeanor is muted, though, as he sifts through some of the paperwork on his desk.

When he hears Colin come in, he looks up with a faint smile, but his eyebrows raise as the box is deposited in front of him. "What's this, then?"

1/2

[keenly]

"Cookies." A shrug. A beat.

2/2

[keenly]

"Oh." That wasn't the question. "Um, comfort food. They said the Veil ripped when the ferry stopped running?"

Colin doesn't offer explanation as to where he was. In truth, he was living in the home of a beautiful noblewoman and that's not a thing he wants to be overheard at a door, no matter how platonic the arrangement is. This also just isn't the time. Being trapped in a Circle surrounded by demons would be horrific for anyone, but for someone who survived Uldred, it's old hat horrific.

[overharrowed]

Ah. He doesn't say it, but his expression does.

"...it did. I'm glad you weren't here, frankly." He doesn't ask for the explanation that wasn't offered. "It was not the best few days I've ever spent, but no lasting harm done, as far as anyone can tell."

He doesn't want to curse it, but even so. His words are even, good-natured, but there's a bit less jauntiness than he usually manages, even so.

[altusimperius]

"NOW, if you please," comes the voice again, "the guest apartments! Something has.... it.... it smells rancid in here." A mutter to someone else in the room, with a more genial tone, but only barely.

[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]

Concerned, unconvinced eyebrows knit. Colin gives the man a little nod. It's typical Julius, probably more so because he still sees Colin as his apprentice. It's not that he doesn't appreciate the idea behind it, but for the first time in a few months, Colin is fine. Colin has enough stretch in his mental state to be there for Julius, and it's what he wants to do. Julius has always been there for him. You've put on a brave face. Good. Now tell me how you're really doing.

[keenly]

Another sound of shuffling, accompanied by a bewildered pause.

"You know I'm not a servant, right?"

[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.

[altusimperius]

"Worse," snaps the voice, "you sold me a bum-- something. I--" More muttering, overly polite, "...you have to come fix it."
Although the latter statement is a command, there's a pleading note to it.

crystal-action

[keenly]

Colin's groan is muffled because he buried his face in his pillow for it.

"Give me a minute," he says once he comes back up.

A few minutes later, he is walking briskly down the hall towards Benedict, wearing a long nightshirt and loose trousers and wrapped in a wool banyan. It's the middle of the winter and absolutely freezing. He relishes the thought that Benedict has to feel the cold as much as he does. He comes up to the man and twitches his eyebrows upward.