[open] is there something I'm supposed to be doing

[doneisdone]

WHO: Teren and whoever
WHAT: the grippe is making her weird
WHEN: grippetime
WHERE: somewhere in the Gallows
NOTES: get it together grandma

It's the height of the grippe's grip (heh) on Riftwatch, and though it isn't unusual to see Teren stalking the halls after most everyone has gone to bed, it is unusual to see her doing it looking like someone's mad spinster aunt dressed in only a chemise with her hair braided down her back like she's just gotten out of bed. She's got a thoughtful, distant look in her eyes, which, upon closer inspection, seem glazed over and red, focusing in at odd times and registering her surroundings with silent, subtle alarm.

At a certain point it becomes apparent to her that she has no memory of wandering where she is, and even the tension in her expression can't make itself explode into something more proactive. When she runs into someone, she's visibly confused by their presence and clearly very much not herself.

[one thread please]

Comments

shows up late with starbucks

[gentlecountry]

Even Wardens have to sleep, sometimes.

It's a common fault of mortal folk; no matter the blood magic, or the enhancement of blight-taint nor lyrium, even the longest day meets night, eventually. And for Barty, his night had come in the wee hours, soothed into unconsciousness by looming exhaustion and the peaceful whistling of Teren's partially-blocked airways. She was so sweet when she slept.

Sleep too, cannot last. Alas.

So, when Barty woke to find his charge missing, he did the sensible thing, which was to search first nearby, and then farther. This was very stupid, because there was no reason for Teren not to wander in the most unhelpful manner possible, as was her nature. If he had been thinking clearly, he would have realized that first, and found her before she had anything sharp in her hands.

"Now, Teren," He had run into her, quite physically. Why she had such sharp shears in her hands or what she meant to cut with them was anyone's guess. Barty just hoped it wasn't going to be any part of him, "How's abouts you just sets those down now, and comes have a nice cups of tea. I even gots honey for your cough, ain't that a treat?"

screams for two weeks

[doneisdone]

"Not now," she answers vaguely, gripping the shears with stubborn intensity, "they're for the tabards."
She's made new tabards for the Wardens-in-residence every now and then, but hasn't done so anytime recently-- perhaps this is a campaign to do so now, or perhaps she just doesn't remember why she has the shears, and that seems the most likely reason. It's not like chopping is really her style.

Glancing uneasily around over Barty's head, Teren then looks down at him with an alarming, yet still languid, vitriol.
"Leave me alone, Oghren."