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

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