open | put my faith in the hard of heart

[achievable]

WHO: Howard Stark & Anyone
WHAT: Congrats Thedas, you’re saved!
WHEN: Nowish
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: Nah

Comments

falling with style. (open)

[achievable]

“I could do better,” Howard says.

The story of his life. It works on multiple levels.

But specifically, right now, he’s referring to two broad-winged contraptions he’s hauled to the top of the fortress walls during a spot of clear, calm weather. They’re made partly of bedsheets and melted-down swords that previously belonged to dead people. Still, for things that he made alone, from memory, using literally medieval equipment, and primarily to prove a point, they’re pretty good.

“It’s astonishing how much things cost when you don’t have any money,” he goes on, plucking experimentally at the rigging on one of the gliders. “But they’ll work. At least once.” He considers the water—not that bad—and a pair of griffons swooping over the harbor. “I assume you can swim.”

You. Whoever is up here with him. He made two—surely someone isn’t a coward.

[filthydipper]

First thing on his list is: do not tell m'lady that he did this.

Second thing on his list: do not tell m'lady if he ends up breaking anything. Or come up with a reason as to why he's in the infirmary. Family dinner you know how it is. Rope in Thranduil if necessary.

But Yngvi is game for a laugh most days, recovering from whatever nightmare story he was told of rationing as this guy - did he get a name, probably not that's generally not been important to Yngvi in the grand scheme of 'why I did the thing I am doing' - rambles away, Yngvi trying to take notes. More for writing to his brother if he survives.

"I'm a dwarf. I float. Like a cork." Arms out to the side he shimmies a little to give the suggestion of how this all sort of works. "You need to go cultivating the right friends though," he adds belatedly because well he knows how Kirkwall works.

(Jimothy take care of his animals should the worst come to pass.)

[achievable]

“That so?”

A response to either statement. To both at once. He eyes the fellow—dwarves, sure, that was one of the things that required the least mental adjustment to accept. But the others he’s seen have been solidly built. This one seems to be mostly hair and clothes. Like a fluffy dog that’s going to look like a rat once it’s rained on.

Not necessarily a dealbreaker. But.

He doesn’t expect the kid to know how much he weighs, unless it’s less than a hog, more than a dog.

“We’ll have to talk about that. Mind if I lift you for a second?”

[filthydipper]

If his fathers - actually more if Hulda who is and isn't family, she's never fitted into that whole tangled root system, or Einar - could see him now. Gunnar footing the debts still to be paid. Unless those go to Riftwatch.

Has that been figured out yet? Yngvi's not privy to it, maybe he should've suggested that just out of spite: Riftwatch foots all his bills if he dies on their watch even if it's something he volunteered for.

Especially if it's rifters who might just be some sort of Fade noodle wearing clothes, no one has ever confirmed what they are and it's not like Yngvi would like to go looking under their clothes. (Why do most of them wear weird clothes? Like, across the board there are some choices that are made. Mage hat choices. And mages probably didn't get a choice in the hats, he will give the mages that much.)

But at least, for one rare moment in his life, Yngvi is being asked. And he has to stop. Stare. Just to parse that yes his opinion matters and okay Yngvi be cool about it, this is how this is for everyone that's not a dwarf--. "Sure. Mind your fingers near my pockets."

There are sharp things maybe sticking out. Don't mind that. It does not concern anyone but Yngvi and anyone on the receiving end.

down below

[doneisdone]

There's exactly zero chance that Teren is going to listen to some idiot stranger who says he's got a bright idea and wants volunteers, but that doesn't mean she won't absolutely watch this shitshow unfold. Having noticed the man dragging his contraptions up to the top, she's standing below with her arms folded, wondering how big of a stain he'll make on the cobblestones.

She could try to prevent this, but it's none of her business if a fool's already made up his mind.

[achievable]

If he were aware of the audience—the audience’s skepticism, especially—he would be sure to wave cheerfully as he passed. As it is, he glides overhead without paying her much attention, focused on tightening a strap mid-air, and disappears over the wall.

[doneisdone]

"Well,"

....


"shit."

She goes about her day, a little disappointed.