OPEN | so much to learn, so little time

[malavhenan]

WHO: Finel and YOU
WHAT: February catch-all
WHEN: Beginning a few days after Kirkwail
WHERE: Various
NOTES: Finel has lots of people still to meet - starters available on request or hit me with anything and I'll roll with it

I. The Library

The library has quickly become his favorite place in the Gallows, and as such he finds a reason to be there nearly every day for several hours. Some times, he's bent over a large volume at a table, a small leather bound notebook open to the side with pen and ink as he takes notes on different magical techniques - mostly healing magics, but also digging into the histories of Thedas, and on occasion some more esoteric volumes on the Fade.

Other times he just wanders through the rows, marveling at titles and enjoying the relative quiet. Even though the room is densely filled and surrounded by stone, he feels settled and safe, here.

On one occasion, he happens to have overstayed himself. Head pillowed on one arm, arm resting against the open book, Finel appears fast asleep at the table.



II. The Wounded Coast

The stone of the Gallows and the bustle of Kirkwall at times feel like all too much. Unused to the constant closeness of a city, he seeks a more open place when he feels overwhelmed and has the time to get away. He's only been on a ship a handful of times, but there's something about the rhythm of the waves, the endless expanse of the horizon that can erase his thoughts and worries, if only briefly.

He's settled on a piece of driftwood washed up on the beach, staff leaning by his side as he takes up a smaller branch, drawing idle words and shapes in the sand. Before long he sets that aside too, and begins practicing some small spells, pulling and shaping the Fade with his hands, forming ice and fire, calling a stone on the ground towards his hand and dropping it again. The anchor shard is dull and numb just below his thumb on his left hand, and he frowns a little as he looks at it.



III. Wildcard!

Request a starter or start your own - feel free to go with any other time you might have run into him in the Library.

Comments

[krem]

Krem shrugs, casual, and he at least has the good graces to school any further amusement out of his expression: guy looks like he regrets things enough already.

"Everybody sleeps," he says, mild, before breaking out in a wry grin. "If you want to hear of worse places to knock out, I've been in plenty of those."

Listen, Bull's Chargers can drink. (Also, Bull's Chargers think it is the height of humor to leave each other to wake up in compromising positions so they have to explain themselves to locals, clients, or other mercenaries. Which, to be fair to them, it absolutely is.)

[malavhenan]

He sits up a little more, stretching slightly as he does. Finel appreciates not being teased more than necessary - at least not by a complete stranger, but he can't quite keep the curiosity off his face.

"Oh? I'll admit now you've caught my interest."

Ah, but - first things first, lest they get too far into the conversation for it to be truly embarrassing: "I'm Finel, by the way. Thank you again...?" He trails off, waiting for a name.

[krem]

"Cremisius Aclassi," he returns pleasantly, leaning back in his chair with the distinct air of someone reminiscing over something particularly amusing to themselves.

He doesn't drag it out, though. He'd make a terrible storyteller if he were that far up his own ass. "Last time I was insensible enough," which doesn't actually happen that often despite how much time he spends in taverns, honest! "I woke up on the roof of a barber's shop." He grins, eyebrows twitching upwards, as if to say: eh? How about them apples? A worse idea than this nice, warm, quiet library, which seems downright sensible by comparison, surely.

"... With someone else's stockings on. That might actually be the weirder part. Had a grand time trying to get back down with the barber shouting up at me the whole while, that's for sure."

[malavhenan]

"Pleased to meet you," Finel murmurs, and settles back for the story. He tilts his head, cocking an eyebrow as a smile twitches across his lips before a short laugh bursts forth. A couple of other people nearby shoot him an annoyed look, and he has the grace to look apologetic for just a moment before he leans forward again towards Krem.

"Just someone else's stockings?" Which could easily be an inquiry into whether Krem was wearing anything else, or had only swapped socks.

"Did you ever find out how you got up there?"

[krem]

Luckily, Krem has the chargers who keep him from shedding too many layers no matter how drunk he gets. Everyone in the core group knows what's fair game for a laugh and what's not.

"Had my trousers on, luckily." And his binding and his shirt, but that might be more information than is needed to paint the picture. He grins, pleased that Finel's spirits seem to have picked up. At least reminiscing about his own drunken idiocy is good for something. "Made a bet with my boss that he couldn't throw me up there: that's how you know I was soused." Wait, this needs context, Bull isn't around in Kirkwall to be absolutely impossible to miss. "He's one of those giant Qunari bastards." So you know, obviously he could. Krem shakes his head ruefully.

"So, they overworking you?" He nods playfully towards the book-turned-pillow.

[malavhenan]

"Your boss is a Qunari?" He doesn't quite manage to conceal the pique in his interest. There aren't many Qunari in Kirkwall, and none that he's had the chance to personally interact with as of yet. "Did he also get you down?"

Finel casts a wry glance back at the book. "It's more self-imposed, I'm afraid."