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WHO: Adrasteia + Ellis
WHAT: Coworkers, etc.
WHEN: Post-dream.
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: It's griffons all the way down in here.

As surreal as it has been to meet Adrasteia on the stairs or in the halls, it is somehow magnified this morning with the lingering memories of the dream rattling in his head. The recollection of Tony won't be dislodged, sticks in his mind despite having more than enough evidence that Tony's well enough now that they're all awake.

And Butterball isn't interested in leaving Ellis room to ruminate on the matter. His great head bumps at Ellis' shoulder, an aggrieved clicking of his beak underscoring the request, until Ellis lifts a hand to rub the griffon's head.

"The older ones came from Weisshaupt, as I understand it," Ellis tells Adrasteia, careful over the invocation of that fortress, all the baggage caught up with it lurking unspoken at the edges of the name. "And they've managed another set of hatchlings since. All large enough to ride, if you can get the hang of it."

If things had gone differently at Weisshaupt, maybe Ellis would have seen some of these griffons raised first-hand. Maybe Adrasteia would have met them there. But that's not how it happened. As it stands, he's undertaken the slow process of familiarizing himself with them over the course of his stay in the Gallows. He points up, where Potato has curled on a high ledge but deigned to peer back down at them.

"That's Potato," Ellis explains, with a moment's pause to allow the chosen name to settle. "She'll come down if you call for her."

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Adrasteia is also Forces, but that's mostly because she'd be a terrible spy. Too honest, too earnest by far. As it is she smiles as Ellis speaks until he gets to the bit with the horses, at which point she tsks lightly.

"I suppose that's to be expected."

Still. Disappointing, and something for her to consider. Maybe they could get a Warden-raised horse or two in the mix, but that's a puzzle for another day (and possibly another soul). Her hands keep moving across Potato's flank as she leans her head on the beast's shoulder. "I've heard Lowtown had its own infestation at one point." Probably more during the Champion's time, now that she thinks about it and shrugs a little. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"There's no need for that," Ellis answers her, shaking his head. "It's nothing."

And she could have found her way here on her own, or found any other escort within Riftwatch's number. He hasn't done anything worth gratitude.

"Do you intend to stay?" is the question he follows it with, one he hadn't been so sure he'd ever ask her. Butterball has given up on Ellis offering up snacks, and paces away towards one of the great entryway set into the wall of the eyrie. It's hard to tell if the creature is committed enough to his annoyance to flounce all the way out into the air, though Ellis would be pleased if Butterball took on some exercise of his own accord.

It's not nothing, gauging by the look on Adrasteia's face at his denial, but she won't push it. She'll just thank him with her eyes, again, and keep her mouth shut. Her lips are upturned a little though - a sneaky smile. She tucks loose strands that have come out of the braid wound around her head behind her pointed ear and Potato nudges at her hand in a demand for more pets.

"Yes," she says, busying her hands with the griffon once again. She's not sure it was ever really in question, not for her, not after she'd spoken with the people here, with Ellis and Vance especially. But saying that aloud seems... well. She's not sure how it'll be taken. "Of course. We could do good, here, amongst these people. Complete strangers to our world have aligned themselves with this cause."

Her hands move to scratch behind Potato's ears.

A scrap of a dream comes back to him, Richard echoing back Ellis' intentions to him in the magma-lit caverns of the Deep Roads. (You missed doing the work with other people.) He says nothing right away, letting her assessment sit while he watches Potato luxuriate in Adrasteia's affections.

"Aye, maybe we can."

A meditative agreement, one that doesn't betray Ellis' own uncertainty about how much good he may or may not have done here.

"They're disorganized," is the first reply that comes to him, slowly and not necessarily harsh. "They mean well, but too many of them are..."

The hesitation is more in search of a gentle descriptor.

Ellis settles on, "Untried."

It's not exactly the right word for what Ellis is thinking. But Adrasteia must take the meaning, the way Vance would have too. They're Wardens. They've all been in positions where they choose between bad and worse. They all know what it's like to work alongside people who don't quite understand what it is to be trapped between two bad decisions with lives on the line.

A humming consideration. "So were we all, once." The temptation to press her face against Potato's flank is fleeting but still there. Being a Warden has taken up a decade of her life, second only in length to her childhood at this point and it's not like she can remember the entirety of that experience. The last ten years? She remembers those just fine.

She lets out a little sigh, patting Potato's flank. Behind Ellis, Butterball huffs but doesn't make any move to take flight just yet.

"Nothing's perfect." A breath. She meets Ellis' eyes and then rolls her own, softening it with a smile. "Is it terrible if I hope they can keep that untried-ness for a while longer? Probably, a little bit." Especially considering what they're up against.

Once upon a time, before they became Wardens. Before the Blight knifed through their lives and carved it all apart.

Ellis doesn't say anything for a moment. When he breathes out, some minor tension passes from his expression, and he shakes his head.

"I don't think they'll have much choice," Ellis points out, gentle around the sentiment. "But as long as they've more than a handful of people who know what they're doing, it'll keep them from the kind of mistakes that cause harm."

There are people in Riftwatch Ellis knows he can trust to make the hard choices, the ones where no one is happy but people are kept safe because of it. The damage the more sentimental members can do is limited by that. He doesn't point out that it's not so unlike the Wardens, because the fractured mess of their order can't be anything but a source of pain and worry.

"And what of that handful?" She tilts her head, considering, hands having gone still, which. Maybe a poor decision? Either way, Potato pokes Adrasteia in the ear, gently, the curve of her beak getting caught on a bit of a plait which Adrasteia then has to rush to unbraid before the griffon ends up undoing her entire hairstyle. It's quite the look; her hair is pretty long. "Yes, yes, hold on. There. It's us, yes, but whom else?" Whom all are trustworthy, who can she look to in the hopes that they'll do the least damaging thing when stuck between two evils?

By 'us' she's obviously including Vance and Ellis in the list of people she trusts. She doubts he'll be thrilled about that, but she isn't going to change her mind on the topic today.

"You want a list?" is said like a joke, as Butterball reclines at the very edge of the window with a squeaky yawn.

Yes, Ellis has a loose understanding of Riftwatch members and has fixed them in his mind accordingly. It occurs to him that it would be interesting to set those against Vance's impressions, even considering all the general animosity.

But between the three of them, there are very different assessments of necessary action, of what can and can't be sacrificed. This thought catches up with Ellis, and he takes a moment to readjust his jacket, pull back what Butterball had tugged askew.

"Is that a terrible thing to ask of you?" She opens one of her hands between them, the other having moved towards smoothing Potato's wing feathers gently. "You've been here for longer, after all."

She had asked Vance a similar question — something about who did he feel needed an eye kept on them within Riftwatch — and got a completely unexpected answer.

"I realize we're all very different," she starts, and then closes her mouth for a moment, rethinking her words. "But your thoughts on the matter are of importance to me."

Should they be? Ellis raises an eyebrow, slight amusement in the set of his mouth, but he doesn't contradict her. Even with all the mess of their history, he understands what it is to lean on known quantities.

"The Commander, and Spymistress will do what needs to be done," Ellis says, because they might as well begin there. His fingers catch over a button on his coat, fidget with it while he considers who beyond those two names are worth mentioning.

"Nell Voss and Isaac, both mages. Richard Dickerson, Amos Burton and James Holden, all rifters," he continues, hesitating before adding, "And Tony Stark, a rifter also."

Again, the consideration of just how many Rifters he has come to depend on in the course of his time here.

"You'll be able to pick them out for yourself. Almost no one here is subtle."

Maybe. Maybe not. Yet he's also a Warden, and he knows these people, and she believes he has the best interests of Thedas at heart. Besides which, he's calculating in a very different way from Adrasteia, and she believes that she could benefit from his viewpoints.

Maybe because of their shared past. Maybe in spite of it.

She nods along as he speaks, committing the names to memory. A hand comes up to Potato's jowl before she begins tucking her unworked braid back up into the rest of her hair.

"I haven't met any Rifters yet," she admits with a bit of a sigh. Travelers from other worlds are a fascinating concept, she honestly needs to get out more and interact with the rest of the Riftwatch. "But I'll remember. Thank you."

That faint impression of amusement broadens into a small smile. The instinct to repeat Don't thank me is set aside. He could say it and she'd counter it with all the reasons why she thinks it's a thing worthy of gratitude. Knowing the outcome, Ellis leaves it unsaid.

But the subject of Rifters is difficult today. Ellis ducks under a wing, crossing to give Butterball's flank a gentle nudge with his boot while he waits for the unsettled, prickling of anxiety to fade.

He told Richard too much. Tony had died. Wysteria had been angry, and Ellis doesn't know how much of that carried into the waking world. But none of that is Adrasteia's to sort out.

"They're interesting," is what he says finally, which feels like an understatement. Butterball is croaking in protest at the steady nudge of Ellis' boot. "And hard to miss, if you're worried about seeking them out."

Potato turns her head to see what Butterball is fussing about, deems it unimportant, and places her beak on Adrasteia's shoulders so she can get more attention and affection. The elf chuckles a little, smiling at Ellis, though if that's at Potato or Butterball's continued croaking is unclear.

She can feel that the topic should perhaps change. She wants to ask how he keeps himself busy, how the average day shakes itself out for him, but she also knows there's a decent chance he won't answer that question. Besides, she needs to come up with her own rituals and routine here.

"I'll have to introduce myself to the group at large sooner or later. In the meantime, I plan on speaking to the spirit healer on deck, here, and seeing what may be needed."

There's to be no depending purely on the other Wardens to integrate her. Adrasteia has to do it herself.

"I'd tell you to see Isaac, but he's moved himself out of the infirmary."

For reasons Ellis can guess at but hasn't prodded Isaac about yet. It seems Ellis isn't the only one who woke up with regrets, and the reverberations of what everyone dreamt about is still echoing around the Gallows.

"They're kind, for the most part," he continues, breaking off as he abruptly ducks out of the way of a flapping wing. Butterball is a stubborn, lazy creature. Ellis should have brought a snack for him. "You'll not have a hard time settling in, it's sorting out what to do among them that tends to take some doing."

Or maybe that's just Ellis' struggle, trying to convince himself it's wise to be here.

"I've come at a strange time, haven't I?"

It seems obvious, to her; even though the dreams they all shared felt like little more than quietly observing from a distance for Adrasteia, people are quieter, more contemplative perhaps, less trusting it feels. Perhaps it's just her own low-level paranoia or a healthy fear of even just the socially unknown that comes with surviving the last decade as a Warden... but she doubts it.

Either way, she sighs and shakes her head a little. Don't feel as if you have to answer that question, Ellis, it's probably best set aside as rhetorical.

"There's an opening beneath the Seneschal for a Morale Officer." A one-shouldered shrug. "I think, once I've settled in, that I may apply."

No, Ellis doesn't answer that question. The expression he flicks back to her is tired, smile dimmed slightly.

Though in fairness, Ellis isn't sure there's ever exactly an easy moment to settle into Riftwatch. He'd even arrived on the heels of some scuffle, though it hadn't felt so all-consuming as this morning.

"Now, there's a good fit," Ellis answers, humor coming easily in the wake of that mental image. If there were ever a person more suited to the task of trying to preserve morale in this company—

"So long as you save some time to watch my back, next time I'm sent out."

Poor Ellis and his tired smiles.

"Of course. Is that even a real question?" She tilts her head at him. "I wouldn't sleep well at night if I let you get sent out without me there to protect the rear at this point." That isn't an overstatement; as invested as she is (or might still become) in the interests of Riftwatch, the other Wardens, and their safety, are going to remain tantamount in her mind. She considers them friends, even if she thinks Ellis would tell her that perhaps she shouldn't, but they're siblings in arms at the very least. Nothing will change that. Nothing has.

She'd do more for those who meant less. He probably knows this of her by now.

"You haven't changed."

His voice dips warm over the words. With all the world in flux, Adrasteia reappears just as she was. After everything, all that has gone wrong and all the time since she'd departed, she is still familiar to him.

And some part of it is for the reassurance of support in the field as well. It isn't that he's ever felt particular bereft of support, but same as Vance, known elements carry a different type of security along with them.

"The next dangerous thing I go to prod at, I'll make sure you're aware of it."

Usually when others bring up how little she's changed they aren't thrilled about it, inferring that she should grow up faster, achieve some gravitas about the way she looks at the world. It's nice, in it's own way, that Ellis thinks this is a good thing; a thing worth complimenting, even.

She smiles, and turns her face away and towards Potato again, because she's not sure what her expression is doing.

"Good. I promise to do the same." Should Riftwatch send her somewhere that they don't also send Ellis in the next breath.

There's a beat of quiet in the wake of that statement. A reaffirmation of old habit; Wardens looking after Wardens, something Ellis hadn't quite held out hope to benefit from again. (With no disrespect to Vance, who owes Ellis nothing at all.)

Butterball gives a creaky groan before scuffling to his feet and lauching, at last, through the window and into the air. Ellis chuckles.

"I should've started with the training yard," Ellis says around a small smile. "It's going to have a hard time standing up against this when you see it."

"Oh, but I'll be sure to be appropriately awed in all the right places," she says, eyes leaving Ellis' face in favor of watching Butterball take flight. It's beautiful and impressive, something of that size flying against the backdrop of the Kirkwall winter sky.

She gives Potato a gentle shove in the general direction of the nearest window. "Go on, girl, I know you want to fly with him." Potato huffs and leans in for another series of scritches before she, too, wanders over towards a window and takes flight. Adrasteia clasps her hands together in front of her and watches for a moment, before turning back to Ellis with a smile. "Let's go."

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put a bow on this y/y

a perfectly tied one 🎀