faderift | OPEN + starters | nothing is what it seems

WHO: Myr & YOU; starter for Simon (and more by request)
WHAT: Divine Election nonsense + an elf/mage doing elf/mage things
WHEN: All through Drakonis
WHERE: The Gallows & Kirkwall
NOTES: hit me up if we've discussed something for this month & you would like a starter for it!

i. extended office hours - Chantry Relations office
With the Divine's election in the offing, there's much for Chantry Relations to do, both officially and not. Above the board there's letters to be sent on Inquisition policy, research to be done on the various candidates' intentions for the organization, requests to answer for their agents as guards or troubleshooters at Chantry functions, good will on all fronts to curry and maintain. That by itself would be enough to keep Myr in the office most working days of the week--

But there was also the matter of Skyhold's unofficial suggestion that Grand Cleric Clorentine ought to be discouraged in her ambitions. After much deliberation (and thought, and prayer), he had agreed to go along with it--and so there is all that much more deniable work to sort through as well, often later in the evenings when he's alone.

So: If anyone's looking for him they would find him in the office from shortly after breakfast to not long before dinner (and sometimes well after it), with or without Cade present; the door's usually open in invitation, a kettle of hot water for tea and a plate of treats on a side table to share with anyone who stops by with a concern or a report.

In the new-minted Inquisition tradition, he's also left a box outside for anyone who'd prefer to bring their comments, complaints, or other communications through writing.

ii. cash me outside - the gallows & kirkwall
Despite the workload, keeping at it seven days a week through the whole month would be a recipe for disaster and cruel to Cade, besides. Myr can afford to set aside a day to tend to body and soul, whether that means spending time in the library with some light reading (Hard in Hightown for the umpteenth time) or mucking around in the garden with the Comtesse on hand to dispose of grubs or dead plants with all a nug's voracity.

Sometimes you might catch him practicing spells in a disused corner of the courtyard, tweaking the Fade in volatile ways that are prone to backfiring (though mercifully without much effect on anyone but him).

On good days he'll make the trip out to Kirkwall and the Chantry memorial garden there, to pray at Andraste's feet or simply sit on a bench and absorb the early spring sunshine.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

In the box in the morning, Myr will find complaints, comments, and a small bundle of freshly cut flowers: the brilliantly purple crocuses that are spring's advance guard. Given that there is a small careful arrangement of them in a little carved wooden vase on Cade's desk as well, it's not too difficult to guess the origin.

Even less difficult when Nari turns the corner and comes walking back down the hallway carrying the second vase that she'd gone to fill with water. She raises a hand in greeting, smile breaking warmly across her face.

"Oop. You beat me back."

Edited (maybe put a subject) 2019-03-13 16:07 (UTC)

As it's become a part of his morning ritual to dump out the box and sort through it before anything else, Myr's definitely found the flowers--and, in fact, has them in hand when the responsible party appears. She gets a smile of surpassing sweetness by way of thanks. "Yes--well, I thought I'd skip breakfast for what we've got in the office and have an early start on all this."

This, by indication, being the tidy pile of paper he'd just poured out. "Care to join me for that? Or have you already eaten?"

It's been too long, is the undertone, a quiet note of need. He hadn't meant to avoid all his friends but he's been so busy...

Nari opens her mouth fully intending to say she had, but she'd join him anyway, and then her brow furrows as she slowly realizes she can't actually remember the last time she'd eaten. There'd been a quickly bolted sandwich of cold meat and cheese on her way up to the Grove... but... that might have been yesterday?

"Huh," she says with a self-conscious ruffle of her hand through her hair and a lopsided quirk of her smile, "You know, I've no idea?"

Better stay.

One of Myr's eyebrows ticks up as Nari goes quiet to think on the question; long familiarity keeps him from interjecting. He huffs out a laugh at the answer. "That busy? Here--let me settle that," he holds out a hand for the vase, flowers in the other, "and you go take first pick of the pastries. Water should be nearly ready, too."

As if it's heard him, the kettle on the sideboard gives a first tentative whistle.

"Once you've some food in you, I'd love to know what's so consuming--not the harbor chains, is it?"

"Harbor chain's fine," Nari shakes her head as she heads to grab a cloth to pull the kettle from the heat. "I think there's seabirds nesting in it somewhere along the way, but it'll come up fine even if bits of it happen to be painted white, and I can't imagine the Viscount won't amenable if we get a scent of Corypheus coming." She looks around for somewhere safe to set it.

"After all, it'd be in defense of Kirkwall too. Where do I...?"

"Uhm." A gesture, and the glyph under the kettle's trivet winks out. "You can put it back down. And--Maker, tell me if you've ever got to bring them up, I'm sure that'll be quite a sight."

No need to restate that he's hungry to see just about anything spectacular happening in the vicinity. He sets the vase and flowers on his desk, adjusts the position of them, nods to himself. "So if not that, what's been up? --And I forgot to get the honey out, it's in the cupboard there to the left of you, if you'd like it--"

The last word trails off as he ducks out of the room to retrieve the complaint box's other contents and transport them to his desk.

She'll replace the kettle, shaking her head slightly in wonder. No matter how many times she sees Myr's casual use of his glyphs, it's always fascinating.

"Don't worry," Nari says, whuffing a laugh through her nose as she kneels to look through the cupboard for the promised honey, "you'll hear it."

Honey found, she sets to making cups for them both. "Far as the rest, 's mostly just regular work. Things have a way of falling apart, especially as the ranks grow. I could pass it off, I know, but—" she shrugs one shoulder, the other arm engaged in pouring the water, "I like being in there. Lets me see how I might make things sturdier. Better than they are. Aside from that, it's plans for lighter siege engines. More portable."

Trying to get them quickly set up at Ghislain had been an utter failure. She didn't have to say that to Myr. He knew it as painfully well as she did.

A moment passes as Myr absorbs that last thought--remembering involuntarily that awful hour of struggling on the hill--before he breathes out a brief laugh of his own. "There is only the one of you, though," he points out, "and as ranks grow you'll get spread awfully thin. Not that you ought to give up the regular work, but--have you thought about taking on a full-time apprentice?"

There'd been her team of other tinkers, he knows, but most of them had up and vanished the way rifters were prone to doing. As had...many of her other friends, now that he thought of it; vanished, or gone off to another outpost, or returned home. The ones still living, anyway-- He gives a shake of his head to clear the cobwebbing thoughts and goes to retrieve the rest of their breakfast (day-old biscuits and a little bit of hard cheese) from another cupboard.

"Though I s'pose that'd take training time out of your day. Speaking of the siege engines--planning on another trip up Sundermount soon?"

Maybe this time he wouldn't paralyze both of them!

Day-old biscuits and hard cheese are feast enough to make Nari's neglected stomach grumble. She blinks, looks down at herself, and then laughs.

"That sort of teaching isn't my forte, but you're right enough. I can't do everything, and it'd be worth the time and effort to take someone on. For both me and for the Inquisition. Can't have every chair suddenly falling apart if I get laid up."

Then, more quietly, "I'd be doing it at Dahlasanor, around now." Nari's lips thin ruefully. Another way she's letting them down. "If we had any children, in any case."

Myr's hearing is no less sensitive for all he can see again (and maybe, now and again, he's been wearing the blindfold to keep it that way). He promptly offers the plate of biscuits out to Nari; she's got first choice.

"No; and I'd think you might want the days off now and again, too." For, you know, whatever ~~blond~~ reasons she might want one; he buries whatever smile goes with that thought in his cup of tea, trusting completely she's gotten it right for him.

The quiet noise he makes is both appreciation of that and acknowledgment of her words, an mmm that trails out into the sympathetic. "Have you been home to them, lately?" There's another question on the tip of his tongue, another suggestion that he's not quite sure how to formulate; something like if there is one who'd learn from you, why not bring them all back; but he knows enough to know the Dalish clans have their own good reasons for not drawing around the Inquisition, as so many others did.

Nari takes whichever's closest of both biscuit and cheese with a murmur of thanks, and taps her fingers on them rather than eating, her eyes shifting guiltily to the floor.

"No. I should. They're right there, and... I don't even know how they took the winter." She blows a slow breath through her lips. "Halesta's babe was born in summer, should be near able to stand up now. I should bring him something. Blocks. Or some animals. A rattle." She ruffles a hand back through her hair ruefully. "Some sister I am."

OPEN + starters | nothing is what it seems

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how can i be so slow