faderift | ( OPEN ) | been stung by this hurt

Entry tags:

( OPEN ) | been stung by this hurt

WHO: Six + open
WHAT: Six has her powers back and has a few emotions
WHEN: Over the month (catch all)
WHERE: Here, there, everywhere
NOTES: Possible references to abuse might come up!

GARDENS.

Six wakes from her dream and feels an immediate sense of power, something she had not felt in the months since she had first arrived in Thedas.

It feels as if a part of her has been returned, a missing piece of her soul given back. In her minds eye she can still see the image of the spirit she had met not so many weeks before now, the gentle touch of a being that was so close to being Sarenrae but so distant all at once, a Faith she could not deny. Knowing that gentle touch for what it was, a dream that gave her so much, all Six can do is rush out in the light of the early morning and settle herself down for prayers.

She kneels for hours, dressed only in her light linen shirt and her breeches, her hair a tangle around her face - she hadn’t even bothered to comb her hair or tie it back away from her face, the curls of it sticking to her cheeks as the tears stain her skin.

They are not, at least, the tears of an upset woman - Six has cried enough of those in the last few months that she thinks people might be able to tell the difference now. With her hands clasped as they are it’s clear that she is bowing her head, offering her whispered words to a Goddess she does not think is truly able to hear her despite the power that now settles inside of her, making her feel strong and remarkable all over again.

As she prays she tries, just a little, summoning some of her divine strength - and her hands glow as the tears fall on them, her laughter coming as she realises that she is truly herself once more.

GALLOWS.

With her powers in hand Six returns to the Gallows immediately, drawing the greatsword from her back and rising herself to her full height.

She has to take a few moments to centre herself, to focus, to summon what she knows as familiar inside of herself. It’s been so long since she called upon the powers that Sarenrae gave her - a year has gone by, a year stolen from her, a year where she had felt bereft and wrong. When she holds the hilt of her blade she feels as though she is on fire, and when she opens her eyes again the blade is lit up with the flames of her faith, flickering as her eyes widen.

When she laughs it’s a giddy, desperate noise, blade twisting as she slams down and brings the blade into the heart of the training dummy, the flames disappearing as she does, calming as she brings it back.

If anyone notices her she does nothing to dissuade them from watching her, twisting and pressing her body forward. It’s clear that she is excited, that she thrumming with her joy and her passion, and she doesn’t stop for a moment - unless, of course, someone wants to challenge her to a spar.

STABLES.

On the heel of her successes comes the need to make sure all her animals are content, are happy, are being well taken care of. She has Two with her at all times, the kitten she stole from the barn sleeping on her bed more often than not - and she knows she needs to name it, but there’s a sense of uncertainty that she can’t quite swallow - and Sir in his stable, waiting for her to come with treats and a promise of a grooming.

When she comes into the stables, a Mabari on her heels, all she can do is go straight to her horse and reach up to pat at his face and scratch at his neck, a fond expression on her face. It’s obvious which horse is hers from a distance, a huge beast that is strong enough to carry a woman of her weight and height without crumbling under her. She feeds him carrots, takes him out to be groomed, and walks him around, sometimes taking him out to ride if she has the company for it.

She spends a great deal of time around the stables, playing with Two, taking care of her horse, talking to anyone who will listen to her about the animals she cares for; she is clearly an animal person and she has no hesitation showing it.

WILDCARD.

( Find Six hanging around anywhere or msg me for something personal! )

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After hours of working in the Gallows, Six knows that she must smell - even Two doesn't seem to look right at her, doesn't seem to want to press his face into her neck like he's normally inclined to do. Taking it in good humour (he doesn't mean it, he's a dog and affectionate when she is not covered in dirt, mud and sweat) she gathers her things, dropping her sword and armour off in her room, leaving Two to guard the kitten, before she takes her meagre bar of soap and cloths for bathing and heads to the communal pools.

It doesn't take her very long to get there now, the route familiar to her, but she doesn't pay too much attention as she goes. Instead, Six is undoing her hair from the braid, letting it tumble in a mess around her shoulders. She thinks, absently, that it's getting a little bit too long, that she ought to cut it, but she doesn't have the mind to do it now. Something to think about later, to take a sword to it and trim it down to a more manageable length.

Slipping into the room, she puts her things down to one side and strips down, barely glancing around until she slips inside, breathing out as she feels the water soothe the muscles sore from training. She doesn't look at the state of her arms, doesn't think about the scarring on her back, just settles, breathing in and out.

Hearing the door open behind her makes her tense, eyes widening for a moment as she turns her head to glance, cheeks flaring with warmth. She's not used to having company in here, but when she realises who it is she breathes out, softly.

"Lakshmi."

Lakshmi - is someone who could not be damned who was in the bath with her, if she wanted to have one. As far as she was concerned, there was no more basic a need after that of food and rest. As such, she has her rituals, her habits, her patterns.

Her many, many oils that she used for just such a purpose. God strike her done if she had to stay dirty out of anything other than a necessity but she could not stand it. More than that, because of her enjoyment in it, it is a moment in the day where she can enjoy and be at peace with herself for a moment.

Makes her decidedly amiable, as she comes to find herself with company in the baths. That wasn't strange particularly to her. For once, she and her maids would often bath together, in Jhansi's bathing pools, and not least of all would they be in attendance to her. So she thinks of nothing much at all, to see Six there, smiling to her, nodding as she takes up a spot not far from the woman. Taking not a second to shed the loose white clothes she wore for coming here of an evening, undoing her long black hair that falls well past her knees now and wastes not a second longer to step straight into the pool.

Sliding all the way down to her nose with a deep, deep sigh, before she brings herself back up again.

Right, now she speaks. "Six, a pleasure."

Seeing Lakshmi's hair does, at least, give Six the feeling that perhaps her hair is not as long as she had imagined it to be. It curls around her shoulder blades and a little lower, but it's certainly nowhere near close to hanging around her knees. She might still take a knife to it, quick and easy, but she might leave it for a little while too. The braid and bun work for her - why should it matter?

It's not often that she lets herself give into thoughts of being pretty; she cannot imagine her tangled mass of straw being attractive to anyone. Not even Adrian had -

Settling down a little more, she breathes out softly and nods, once, in proper greeting. Clearly, Lakshmi is far more comfortable with this than Six herself is - even if she is used to public bathing, this feels intimate and she's conscious of the scarring across her body, the scrapes over her jaw and neck, the long, greatsword sized marring of her back. It must be hideous to look at and she's careful to angle herself, to glance away as the other woman settles down in the warmth of the bath.

"Are you well?" Foolish question.

Lakshmi is infinitely comfortable, so it seems. There is no part of any day better than this, as she stretches out, letting the hot water soak into her bones, and remove the aches and pains of working. With it, she stretches out in a long movement, her head tilting back, her arms lifting to hook over the side of the back, rolling her shoulders back. Her long black hair floating around her enough to cover her for modesty sake.

If she gave a damn of course, and it had been some years since she did.

"Infinitely more so, now. And you?"

Her head tilts, looking at the other woman finally with a mild smile, relaxed and lazy, crinkling old lines around her eyes.

It's clear that Six has never been entirely comfortable with her own nakedness; she's very rarely bare in front of someone else and it shows, her eyes flicking here and there with an edge of something awkward and anxious. At least the bath is warm and comfortable, soothing her aches and slowly allowing her to relax and calm, settling back down into the water with a soft sound of contentment.

This will be a learning process, she thinks. She will adapt, because she always has.

"Well enough. Tired, but happy." There's a soft pause, hesitating, but -

"My powers have returned."

That makes Lakshmi sit up, definitely interested. Flicking a piece of hair out of her way, sliding it back over her shoulder as she half turns towards her, eager to share in the good news - and learn what it was otherwise.

"That is excellent news, Six. I am glad to hear it."

As she talks, of course, she keeps busy, pulling herself up out of the water a little further. Not to go far. Jus to start fishing in her basket of items she always took to the bath with her. The sealed jars that she takes out one by one to look for the right one. "Will you tell me of them?"

Six immediately averts her gaze, just in case. She hasn't spent a lot of time looking at naked people, let alone naked women, and she's not sure if her flush is from the heat of the bath or the suddenness of someone without clothes. Either way, she's pink.

"Thank you." Which is something, at least, even if her words come out a little quieter than she might like. She is confident in her powers, in her strength, but it is everything else that falters her.

"I am able to summon the flames to smite evil that I had once at home. I am also able to heal again." There's a fondness in her voice, now, as she speaks. "I cannot force the truth from people or summon a mount, but those things matter less."

Little rose girls, all of them, flushing over their bodies like it was something so shameful to know. Rubbish. Utter rubbish, as far as she is and will always be concerned. A woman's body was her pride, her strength, as much as men were their own.

But for now she says nothing, taking no shame in herself, and never would as she continues reaching for what she does her hair with. A warmed oil that she tips into her palm. Spreading it between her fingers, coconut and flowers, from the smell of it.

"A paladin, indeed." She's suitably impressed. "My word, Six, that is feats worth a King's court, tell me again why it is how you do not call yourself a knight?" Lakshmi teases it, a croon in her words that says she will have not a bar of any fumbled humility, Six deserved every bit of praise she got.

It's clear that Six, if not entirely naive, is more modest than Lakshmi might have imagined her to be. Yes, she had been a mercenary, yes, she had been a Paladin, but she had always tried to bathe alone, had always kept to herself. She was ashamed of her body, of how tall she was, how strong and thick and well muscled. Others might take it as something for pride - and she was proud of her strength - but she had no arrogant thoughts towards how she looked.

Gangly and strange since youth, she thinks idly, shaking her head and frowning.

At least Lakshmi's words bring her out of it and she looks over, hesitant for a moment before she breathes out and finds the words to speak. Each compliment people see fit to give her both embarrasses and thrills her, locking them safely in her heart.

"I have not been knighted by a king," Six says plainly, lips twitching. "I am devoted to my God and little else. That is not worth such lofty titles."

It has been a long time since Six did any kind of hunting.

When she was travelling with the mercenaries it was something they had to do, unable to stop in taverns with how many of them there were and the sheer amount of food that was needed. It was easier with Adrian, but sometimes in the depths of their travels together they had been forced to stay outside, to find a deer or a rabbit to share between the two of them, to make some kind of rations to keep them going. She has experience, but she knows there is still more for her to learn.

Travelling with Iorveth is nothing new, but there's an edge of something about it. She knows, a little, that he was closer with her sister than he was with her, the awkwardness about her emotions surrounding her heritage putting something between them. Six doesn't know how to respect her elven side no more than she knows how to respect herself, but at least with her powers back in hand she feels a little better about herself.

Riding out, Sir set and secure below her, she lifts her head to look at the trees around them, a frown on her face.

"Have you been here before?"

While he'd been closer to her sister, there's still a great wealth of respect for Six in Iorveth. She's a fine warrior and a kind soul, though still very young and sadly not as looked after as she ought to have been, neither of the girls really were. Of course, that's the story of half the youth in any world, it seems, parents too caught up in their own nonsense to care for them properly. Regardless, she's grown into a noble and bright girl, not to mention skilled, so he's happy to have her alongside him in a hunt.

"I have." Iorveth answers as he glances about the area. There's a method to reading a forest many people that don't primarily live in them miss. Trees are never so individual as stacked houses can be, or as uniform as roads. Given how distasteful he finds Kirkwall proper, he's become pretty familiar with the surrounding woodlands.

"There's a waterfall in the groves up ahead." If she listens very closely, there'll be the sound of rushing water in the distance. "We can rest there and let the horses drink."

Six has never had much of a family before, outside of Adalia. She had never felt that connection with anyone; Adrian had been her teacher and the man she loved, but she had never dared name him as her family, not when she was so anxious and unsure. She misses Adrian, she misses everything about him, she misses her home and Sarenrae, but she feels better about it with her powers returned to her. She has an anchor, now, and she knows it makes her feel a little more confident, appear a little prouder.

"I should explore the forests more," Six admits, quietly. "I have not had much of a chance, not when there was always so much else for us to do and so many things for us to focus on."

Leaning over, she pets at Sir's head before she glances over at Iorveth and smiles softly.

"That sounds like a good idea. Lead the way."

"You're well dedicated to the cause. The Inquisition is better for your inclusion." Iorveth tells her as he leads towards where he remembers the waterfall, the sound of rushing water building the closer they get. He does mean it. There's many skilled combatants in the Gallows, but Six is a fine example of a warrior. She's committed, she's compelled to protect, she's valiant and she's always honing her skills. They're better for her, but she also pushes herself hard. It can be straining, and he'd hate to see her burn out.

"There's a certain peace that can be found wandering these woods. You might look at it as... self-care." A smirk over his shoulder, and yeah, he knows it sounds stupid, but it's needed. Sometimes, meditation isn't enough.

Soon enough, they come up on a grove that splits to either side, and a waterfall becomes visible through the bushes and trees.

"All need time to recenter themselves."

"I do what I can. There are people that need aid - not necessarily mine, but some. I cannot ignore them when their plight is so clear." Sarenrae would ask her to do the same, to continue on her path, to help as many people as she can, and Six cannot - will not - ignore that. She will not let people suffer if there is something that she might be able to do to help them, not when she had felt such suffering for such a long time.

Tilting her head, she pauses, watching Iorveth for a moment before she allows him to lead her forward. Her sister would like this, she thinks with longing, wondering when she might see Adalia again; when she might share Sarenrae's gifts with her.

"... This is beautiful," she admits, eyes widening as she looks out over the waterfall. She does not know much of self-care - and the idea sounds very strange to her, a foreign concept when she lives to worship and fight - but she understands the need to take a moment for peace and comfort. It makes some sense.

"How did you find this place?"

Inessa is quiet, distracted as she crosses the courtyard toward the mage tower alone. She's not thinking to socialize at that particular time, more interested in dropping off her items in her quarters and going to the templar tower for a good soak. Spring is slow to warm her up, and she could use the extra help.

Passing by the training area, Inessa plans to do nothing more than pass by with a weary wave. Six is busy and she doesn't mean to distract her any more than she wants to be diverted from her course. And if she had passed by a moment earlier, that's what would have happened.

Instead, she stops short, eyes instantly widening upon seeing Six's blade wreathed in flames. Her friend had explained before that she was bereft of what had made her a paladin, so she certainly wasn't expecting to see that or anything like it after all this time. "...Six?? How...?" She realizes her mouth is hanging open and she closes it, though her eyes retain their amazement.

Six is incredibly focussed on the dummy in front of her, on the fire that has taken over her; she feels as though Sarenrae is back with her, despite knowing there is a distance between them, knowing that her God cannot truly be here in Thedas. The Chantry does not have room for someone else to share space with them, but someone had allowed a glimpse of home to come to Six, to give her back something she had never thought she would be able to have again.

Sweat sticking her hair to her face, she has to force herself to breathe out and turn when she hears the sound of her name. When she lowers her blade she realises who it is and her eyes widen, pure joy spreading across her face as the flames die out and the blade goes back to its natural steel.

"Inessa!" Moving forward, she puts her blade to one side and, without thinking too much, wraps her arms around her friend. "She has found me again!"

"I can see that!" Inessa stares, entranced with the blade even as it reverts to normal. It reminds her of the abilities of Knight-Enchanters, somewhat, though Knight-Enchanters are mages and Six has made it clear that she's not. She's still taking this all in when Six hugs her and when the moment of surprise passes, she laughs and returns the embrace.

"That's truly wonderful, I'm so happy for you. Tell me everything, how it it happen? And you can do all that you did before? How does your anchor feel?" The jubilation is still there, but she can't escape the knowledge that the anchor/rifter relationship is intense. Did her regaining what was lost change that in any way?

She can't help the clear delight on her face as she leans back, gripping her friend's arms for a shoulder before she breathes out gently. Her eyes are wide and excited, a spark to them that had been missing before. It's true that Sarenrae wasn't present in the way that Six was used to, but this is enough - it has to be enough.

"I dreamt of her last night and the Spirit that worked with me when the Veil was thin. Most things are the same, but my powers are different, not identical." Looking down at her hand, she hesitates. "I have not looked at it much. I have not felt a change."

Naturally, she glances down to the hand as well, but is quick to reassure and focus on the positive. "If you've not felt anything different, I wouldn't worry. Such changes are not subtle." And her smile returns, a proud gleam in her eyes. Six's spark is contagious, how could it not be? "Then something good came out of all that horror. I'm so glad you've found that connection, that a spirit saw your need and worth.

What is different? Please, tell me everything. I promise you will not bore me."

"Many of my powers cannot be summoned here," Six admits. "I was able to summon a steed and create an aura of truth, but that has not been possible here. I think I can use more of my other strengths, however, so I do not think those are losses that I should mourn for too long." Her smile is soft and wry.

"I can heal, and I can defend against evil and undead. That is what I was useful for."

A summoned steed, a reliable means of discerning truth from lies...all that sounds incredible even for mage, but Inessa has to admit that Six is right. There's no sense in focusing on what cannot be, only what has been gained...most of all, that light in her friend's eyes. She nods, understanding as best she can.

"Both of those are great boons, and will be extremely useful in this world as well as your native one. We're never at an overabundance of healing, let alone ways to effectively fight undead. There's a joke in there somewhere about Nevarrans and their mortalitasi, but honestly I think they would appreciate its practical use against our enemies."

Edited 2019-04-15 23:28 (UTC)

She has a horse here; there is no point wishing for one that she can summon when she has Sir at her side. He's a good steed, one that she chose herself for the first time in her life, and that means something to her. Six is now able to choose a path for herself, with Sarenrae to help guide her, but she wishes that she could feel that blessing with more strength all the same.

"I do not know enough about the Nevarrans to understand it," she says, voice a little wry. "But I am here, a member of the Inquisition, and I will do what I can. I will protect these people, with Sarenrae to guide me."

Inessa beams at that, proud of her friend and how far she's come in her time in Thedas. "I look forward to seeing that might in action, and learning how to adapt my magic to yours. If you tire of training dummies and want to test them at the coast or mountains, I would gladly fetch Garahel and join you. Maker knows he would love the run around freely, without risking knocking over anyone here."

"I would be glad to do anything that might help us work well together. My magic is not entirely of Thedas, I know that, and I would not want to do something to bring trouble accidentally." She strokes her fingers over the pommel of her blade, softening. "I am glad to feel my strength again."

Resting a hand on Six's arm, Inessa squeezes it gently with a warm smile. "You deserve to feel whole again, or nearly so. It may have taken a while, but this is a good sign of things to come, I believe. It's about time that this world adapted to you and not only the other way around."

It always seemed unfair that many rifters lost vital parts of themselves when crossing over. She can't imagine arriving somewhere without the magic she had worked so diligently to hone, or as another race. If this can happen after all the time passed, who knows what else can be made possible?

It's a strange idea, but Six understands it; she does feel whole again. It was something that had been taken from her that has been given back, and she can feel that bubble of warmth inside of her thrum once more. Sarenrae is there in her heart, as she has always been, and the strength of her contentment cannot be ignored.

"It is good that I am myself once more. I do not mind if this continues," and she flexes the hand that houses the shard, "but I will devote myself. It is what my sister would have wanted for me and, surely, what Sarenrae would ask."

Inessa's expression softens at mention of lost family, and she nods. "You may see her again here, and when you do, you'll have something exciting to share." There's no promise to that -there can't be, with the nature of rifters and the Fade- but Inessa will hold onto that hope even if her friend doesn't dare hold it for herself.

"I hope that I do," she admits. "I do not know what happens to Rifters when they leave, but I have heard the rumours, the whispers. I would like to think that she would have the strength to return to my side, no matter what."

"I've heard the rumors, as well. Some of them...well, they seem extremely unlikely and outlandish. I try to be open-minded; after all, we once thought all this impossible. But I would place my thoughts on theories with some substance to them, rather than baseless speculation." She isn't unsympathetic, though, and her tone softens. "I see no reason why she cannot return. I've heard of those rifters who gain new memories when they sleep. Perhaps she will return with new memories, gained in another fashion. And you'll have something to show for that time away, now."

He absolutely sneak-watches other people train as he works out every morning. There's a competitive streak a mile wide in Thor, but he also wants to find people to work out with. This country is lonely.

It starts to feel a little less lonely as a woman lights a sword on fire and destroys a training dummy.

Thor rests on his weighted metal staff, openly watching her. Her form is good, she's clearly using magic, and she's obviously enjoying the workout. He needs to meet her. Thor circles around so she can see him before he approaches, waiting for a break in her attacks until he speaks.

"I am Thor, of House Asgard. And you are impressive, my lady."

Six keeps going at the dummy, pushing herself; now that she has more of her strength back she needs to relearn her limits, needs to push herself and make sure she knows what she is capable of now that Sarenrae has touched her once more. Sweat beads down her face, sticking her hair to her face, and she breathes out heavily, weighed down by her sword and her armour.

It's only when she feels the power of the flames die out that she stops, lifting a hand to wipe at her forehead and try to calm herself down. It's then that she realises she's being watched, her head lifting as she looks up - and, surprisingly, up. It's rare for someone to be taller than her, but this one is.

"Thank you," she breathes out, still catching her breath before she offers a quick, low bow. "I am Six, of no house. It's a pleasure to meet you, my lord."

He seems as though he is titled, she thinks, awkward.

She's thrown herself into the exercise as if it matters, which it does. For that, he can ignore the lack of a title with ease.

"Just Thor is fine, Six," he says, nodding back to her bow. Sixth child? Is it a ranking sort of thing? Perhaps it is cultural. She's clearly a Rifter. And she's probably been asked about her name a lot, but he's curious.

"Is Six a name that runs in your family?" There's no asking her for a spar while she's still catching her breath, but maybe with a little time she'll have recovered.

It's clear that she's not entirely used to being spoken to by the nobility - or, at least, anyone who has any kind of status that might want her to respect it. Tall and a little awkward, she holds her tension high in her soldiers.

"Then Thor it shall be," she agrees, voice quiet. Surprisingly, it's not often that anyone actually asks after her name; this would make the second person, and even then it hadn't been pushed too far. Shaking her head, she breathes out softly. "No, it was a name given to me by my teacher. I took it as my own."

And, surely, that's all she needs to explain when it comes to that. She has no desire to go into the details of Adrian and his place in her life, not with a stranger.

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( OPEN ) | been stung by this hurt

LAKSHMI.

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IORVETH.

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Gallows

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Gallows

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