faderift | Take my love, Take my land

WHO: Malcolm Reynolds, Jayne the Mabari and You!
WHAT: Malcolm rides in with a Mabari and Mail for the Inquisition
WHEN: 20th of Haring
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Anyone that wants a letter or a package that can be carried in a pair of saddlebags is welcome to claim some good or trinket or something from Malcolm, he's been wandering this way for awhile. Brackets or Prose are good.

So here's how it is.

A man, a horse, a bag of mail and a grumpy Mabari wandering right up the road to Skyhold. The dog's a dark brown, the horse is a warm brown, and the man's a muddied brown on account of all the foutu mud he's been riding through all the live long day on the way up to this mighty fine hold. Fort. Ruin.

Honestly it's more the last than either of the other two, the battlements a little worn and ragged and the gate itself kinda questionable. Were it not for the many wonderful things said about this establishment and it's Inquisition Mal'd be entertaining second thoughts. Arlight if he's honest he's already entertaining second, third, and fifth thoughts but he's got a powerful need to be here and here's where he's gotten paid to drop off a lotta letters and packages of various value and weight. He's not about to back out of a decent, legitimate job when he's been paid.

Well-

He sighs and urges the horse onward through the gates, clicking his tongue to bring the Mabari to heel. Or. Trying to. The dog's got a mind of it's own and trots about,sniffling and snuffling at anyone in the immediate area that may or may not have food. If they've got food? He starts pawing. Or gnawing. Much to the exasperation of the muddied man on the bay. "For the last time you gourmand petit sac de merde, leave 'em alone."

If snapping at the dog doesn't work he leans out with his heel and nudges the Mabari with his boot- or he hefts the butt of his spear and knocks him upside the head. It works well enough.

If spared the hound and horse he's found wandering around the courtyard, handing out letters while still trying to mind said horse and hound- horse following at his heel better than the hound tends to.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Get a group like this together and make noises about be'n able to fix stuff and people wander up to your gate with every little thing- ain't that just the way?" He said, peeling back his glove to share with her his 'little thing' that's a mite shiny, a mite achey, and really had no place on his person whatsoever. The shard glittered and glowed in the center of his palm.

"Was work'n a job not too far from Haven. Girl gone miss'n, folk want'n coin for her that don't own her and the like. Got her back and was sett'n up to ride her home when the sky lights up like it's about to burn and there's all kindsa noise and unpleasantness. Don't rightly remember the bit that comes after- horse got spooked and got us out. I think I'm hit by explod'n rock or somth'n till I get a good look at it." No blood, no bruise, just- that.

She had heard and seen of the marks of course, had even gotten a slightly closer look at those that had seemed to come out of the rifts. But it's still a source of some wonder, and Maria reaches for his hand without hesitation to take a better look.

"Haven would fit. You've been greatly blesses or terribly cursed, depending on how you look at it. Or a mix of both."

See'n as she's pretty and seems pretty sensible, Mal don't much mind her tak'n his hand. He holds it out, holds it still, lets her get a peek. It ain't hurting all that much right now. But that's right now, not the past coupla hours rid'n up the mountain. "How is a bit of the foutu sky in my hand a bless'n?"

"The Herald used the piece in her hand to close the rifts in the sky. You could save a lot of lives."

Or potentially damage them, Maria wasn't sure anyone knew the full power of these 'blessings.' But he had come here, to seek them. That meant something.

"..." Well that's.

Somth'n.

Wrapping his head around that takes a moment, but in the mean time, Maria. Have this eloquentized bit of wisdom:

"...huh."

"Welcome to the Inquisition," there's an almost apologetic tone, but it's mostly wry. "We don't have the time these days to break news slowly."

"Nah, I 'preciate this more than you try'n t'sugar coat things." Makes it a bit easier to get over his own confuddl'n issues.

"Good. Then I won't go into a big speech about heroism and the greater good. I'll just skip to the part where I say you should stay with us. Until the Rifts are dealt with."

"Well- not much sure 'bout the greater good but looks like I'll be stick'n it out till I get this thing unstuck. Already done my time for King and Country. Not much look'n to sign on for another stretch."

"Which war?"

Maria may not be the best candidate to recruit to the cause, but she can at least attempt. And knowing which particular king won't hurt.

"The Blight." That much he can say easy, it was what it was and he's moved on well enough to not be quite so sore.

She nods at that. It was a difficult one not to be drawn into. Even the Templar order had felt its scars. Still did, in many ways.

"Take some comfort in knowing most kings and countries are unsure what to do with us, I suppose."

"That makes me all kindsa warm and fuzzy if it didn't mean they were too busy with their heads up their own asses t'know what to do." Idjits, the lot of them.

That gets a smile out of Maria. Politics had always been more a distraction for the wealthy than anything practical.

"Let's stick to solvable problems. Like tears into the fade and demonic invasions, hm?"

"Yeah. Those are completely solvable." A reasonable sorta impossible.

Take my love, Take my land

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject