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[ Wildcards and closed starters go here.]
Edited 2020-11-07 23:06 (UTC)
1.
The knife wound in her shoulder had gone straight through, an emergency cauterization kept her from bleeding out, but did very little to repair the damage done. Sawbones' gives every appearance of alertness, insisting on helping get the others settled where she can. If given nothing to do, she stands, staring into the middle distance with a glazed look.
She isn't here. Not really.
2.
Medics make for terrible patients and Sawbones is no exception. She disappears into the smallest, darkest hiding spot as soon as she's left unattended. She doesn't reappear for a few days, but when she does, it's to totter off towards the bath.
She sways a little and needs to keep one hand on the wall to support herself. Her eyes are bright and alert and her face is set in a determined scowl. She smells especially rank, there's really no getting around that.
3.
Dwarves don't dream, but they do remember. All the more reason not to sleep. So Sawbones doesn't. She spends a great deal of time in the chapel, the rhythms of Chantry duties soothing. The rest she spends in the gardens and in Kirkwall.
Winter is coming and that's all the reason she needs to be particularly onery about making sure the Gallows infirmary and Lowtown healers are well fortified. And maybe she goes and growls a little at the Chantry Brothers and Sisters who feel their time is better spent yelling at Marchers to join the Exalted March then doing literally anything productive.
4.
There is a very small brawl between the two dueling parties. Sawbones is very much in the middle of it, attempting to drag out some hapless Brother who's somehow earned himself a blackeye.
The knife wound in her shoulder had gone straight through, an emergency cauterization kept her from bleeding out, but did very little to repair the damage done. Sawbones' gives every appearance of alertness, insisting on helping get the others settled where she can. If given nothing to do, she stands, staring into the middle distance with a glazed look.
She isn't here. Not really.
2.
Medics make for terrible patients and Sawbones is no exception. She disappears into the smallest, darkest hiding spot as soon as she's left unattended. She doesn't reappear for a few days, but when she does, it's to totter off towards the bath.
She sways a little and needs to keep one hand on the wall to support herself. Her eyes are bright and alert and her face is set in a determined scowl. She smells especially rank, there's really no getting around that.
3.
Dwarves don't dream, but they do remember. All the more reason not to sleep. So Sawbones doesn't. She spends a great deal of time in the chapel, the rhythms of Chantry duties soothing. The rest she spends in the gardens and in Kirkwall.
Winter is coming and that's all the reason she needs to be particularly onery about making sure the Gallows infirmary and Lowtown healers are well fortified. And maybe she goes and growls a little at the Chantry Brothers and Sisters who feel their time is better spent yelling at Marchers to join the Exalted March then doing literally anything productive.
4.
There is a very small brawl between the two dueling parties. Sawbones is very much in the middle of it, attempting to drag out some hapless Brother who's somehow earned himself a blackeye.
Small brawls become big very briefly when Amos enters them, and then they're over. Two quick punches, one kick, and Amos' nose is bleeding down into a toothy, psychotic smile.
The crowd that had formed begins to ebb, curiosity losing to self-preservation.
He adjusts his face into something more blandly amiable. "What happened?"
The crowd that had formed begins to ebb, curiosity losing to self-preservation.
He adjusts his face into something more blandly amiable. "What happened?"
She almost expects him at this point. The smile doesn't phase her, instead she scowls up at him.
"You're going to pulverize that nose of yours someday," she scolds. Sawbones lets go of the Brother she'd been trying to drag out of the fray to start searching her pockets. He is a bit more put off by their helper.
"Maker preserve us!" he gasps in Orlesian, before Sawbones smacks his thigh (the highest spot she can reach).
"You don't even start," she snaps, her scolding shifting to him, "What are you lot even doing down here without Sister Ophelie, she's the only one of you idiots with any sense-" She'll carry on like that while gesturing for Amos to lean down so she can clean his face. Her hands are only shaking a little.
"You're going to pulverize that nose of yours someday," she scolds. Sawbones lets go of the Brother she'd been trying to drag out of the fray to start searching her pockets. He is a bit more put off by their helper.
"Maker preserve us!" he gasps in Orlesian, before Sawbones smacks his thigh (the highest spot she can reach).
"You don't even start," she snaps, her scolding shifting to him, "What are you lot even doing down here without Sister Ophelie, she's the only one of you idiots with any sense-" She'll carry on like that while gesturing for Amos to lean down so she can clean his face. Her hands are only shaking a little.
Amos' smile takes on a different sort of dimension, blankly promising violence, until the Brother leaves. Then, he looks to Sawbones. "Take a breath."
He doesn't lean down. He just waits.
He doesn't lean down. He just waits.
Her jaw closes with a click and for a moment, he's too large. Everything is and there's no escaping the empty arch of blue behind him. She flinches, eyes glassy and face blank. Then she tips her head back and glares at him.
"I am breathing," she says primly, "And you're bleeding."
"I am breathing," she says primly, "And you're bleeding."
"I know." He starts walking, looking for a private alcove of the hall. He finds one-- goddamn place is full of these things-- and sits on a windowsill. "C'mon."
She follows him, curiosity overriding a little of the fear. She's still shaken, feels hollowed through from it. The alcove is a lure of it's own. Not quiet as small or dark as the places she usually goes to hide, but close. She sighs and leans against the wall next to Amos.
Amos wipes the blood off his lip with his sleeve, waits for it to stop bleeding on its own. It was a small wound, a vessel that's been broken so many times it's used to it. He doesn't care how it looks. He never has.
"Look," he says, "I dunno what happened with you and Cap in the dead psycho's basement," he begins promisingly, "and I'm not much help with that shit. But if you got anything you gotta say about it... I don't judge."
"Look," he says, "I dunno what happened with you and Cap in the dead psycho's basement," he begins promisingly, "and I'm not much help with that shit. But if you got anything you gotta say about it... I don't judge."
She tips her head back to look up at him. She doesn't say anything for a long moment, but...
"Do you know anything about the Deep Roads?" She doesn't recall what parts of it Mhavos had put in the pamphlet, the sight of the Casteless mark a strangely overwhelming thing.
"Do you know anything about the Deep Roads?" She doesn't recall what parts of it Mhavos had put in the pamphlet, the sight of the Casteless mark a strangely overwhelming thing.
Even if that pamphlet was yet published, Amos wouldn't have bothered reading it. "Nope," he says amiably.
"Used to be how all the thiags were connected, how dwarves got from one city to the next," she says, "Then the taint came and the Darkspawn with it. The thaigs fell. There's only one or two left now. And the Deep Roads are a pit. Whatever you've seen in space? It's worst in the Deep Roads."
She can say that with absolute confidence, "They exiled some of us there, during the food riots in Orzammar. Sometimes I forget I'm not still there."
She can say that with absolute confidence, "They exiled some of us there, during the food riots in Orzammar. Sometimes I forget I'm not still there."
What's the worst thing Amos has seen in space? Eros, falling, screaming, running through the ancient guts of the station, poison water, radiation, waiting, Semi's face as the bullet ripped it apart.
Worse than that. Okay.
"I known some guys like that." He nods, expression blankly pleasant.
Worse than that. Okay.
"I known some guys like that." He nods, expression blankly pleasant.
Amos nods. Yeah, that tracks. "How the world works. Instead'a just fucking around for fun."
Sawbones huffs and gives him a smack (worlds gentler than the one she'd given the Brother), saying with a trace of primness, "Either way it's a mess."
She hauls herself up onto the windowsill next to him, frowning, "Now let me have a look at you, so I know you didn't bust a tooth or anything."
She hauls herself up onto the windowsill next to him, frowning, "Now let me have a look at you, so I know you didn't bust a tooth or anything."
He waves her off, but without the (small) amount of effort it would take to completely block her. "Got my nose busted up when I was little, it always bleeds easy, and my tooth cut my lip. Not deep."
The self-assured tone of someone accustomed to fighting.
The self-assured tone of someone accustomed to fighting.
"Sure, Sis." He leans forward, allowing his face to be inspected. "You work on the Cap? James Holden, you met him?"
It's a brief inspection at least (truly only for her peace of mind, the blood kicking up too many memories). She grimaces and nods, "I did meet him, yes. Only helped with the field work, since my shoulder got fucked. He should be off bedrest soon."
Satisfaction in that. Those kinds of injuries had ways of going very wrong very badly.
Satisfaction in that. Those kinds of injuries had ways of going very wrong very badly.
"He's from my planet," Amos says, and then, meaningfully, "but not where I'm from."
Amos' voice is blank, but there's a subtle thread of disbelief in his words: "The fuck's that mean?"
It's really subtle, though, so you might miss it.
It's really subtle, though, so you might miss it.
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