(closedish openish) keep you like an oath

[byblow]

WHO: Alistair & Others
WHAT: Some sulking, some snark.
WHEN: Third week of Haring + bonus first week of Wintermarch.
WHERE: Skyhold.
NOTES: No open starters, but if you want something PM me or hit me up on Plurk! Or drop a starter of your own on me and I'll roll with it.

Comments

[byblow]

Alistair gets a look. It's the sort of look that also precedes a very bad joke, between the time it occurs to someone and the time they open their mouths to inflict it on their friends, and the sort of look that comes before a child does something they know they aren't allowed to but also don't expect to get into trouble for.

He looks down at the hem of his shirt.

But then he leaves it there. Ten years ago he would have done it; six months ago it would have been a strong maybe. But he's tired, and he's worried, and the song whispering in his head won't let him forget why long enough to set it aside.

He's still smiling, though. "And not even any smarter to compensate," he says, agreeable, and pulls another out-of-order book off the shelf. This one he returns to the right position. "The Maker dealt me a bad hand. Gave all the good cards to you, probably."

[ungovernable]

It would probably have been easier for her to get a handle on than his agreeable ease - but the renewed scrutiny has less of an edge as he sets the book where it belongs and her admittedly mild-in-the-first-place aggravation is eased. He is probably safer with her when she's slightly annoyed than when her head tilts in that particular way, all things being equal -

"Many of them," she concedes, not unwilling to play if he's going to stop messing up her orderly shelving. "Including research experience, though that one, I think, I acquired for myself. What are you looking for?"

The inevitable question.