at least the dark don't hide it; OTA

[wythersake]

WHO: Isaac + OTA
WHAT: Dream aftermath
WHEN: First day or so after everyone wakes up
WHERE: Gallows
NOTES: Probable vague discussion of torture, will edit as appropriate.

 

Comments

[okayimin]

She arches her brows, "And if I said I considered you and the rest part of my us? Would that even mean anything to some of you while I'm still tied to the Chantry?"

[wythersake]

"To some," Every elf, every dwarf, every mage is a terribly wide pool. "I imagine Brother Gideon one. Enchanter Averesch, another."

To Isaac? Well.

[okayimin]

She makes a soft noise.

"The Brother is another matter." One she can hope to use some of his influence to improve things in Kirkwall. She's not fool enough to assume that help will come cheaply, one way or another. "What does it mean to you?"

She expects he'll side step it. She asks anyway.

[wythersake]

"Were it not for the Chantry, I should be dead a time or two over."

Indebted is not endeared — another shred of common dirt. He props a hand beneath elbow, fishes out a cigarette at last. Whether Isaac intends to remain beyond the hour, he’s settled long enough for a conversation.

"But I might say as much of the Rebellion," Thumb: Spark, smoke. It trickles for the walls, to curdle the paint. "And that the fresher bruise."

The War is six years gone. It has never truly ended.

[okayimin]

Well, that's more of an answer than she was expecting.

"More of a bleeding wound than a bruise," she says with a frown, "And the Divine seems inclined towards amputation than stitching." And then she grimaces. Why is she talking in metaphors? Maybe this is what happens when you have dreams. "Can't do a blasted thing about that."

The metaphors, the bleeding, the Divine. Powerlessness in the face of it all. That's a familiar feeling at least.

[wythersake]

"You know, the former Provost expressed to me a terribly similar sentiment."

Can't do a thing about that. The longer he lingers in Kirkwall, the less compelling Riftwatch's blunt complacency.

[okayimin]

The look she gives him is exasperated, hands on her hips and chin tilted in challenge. "Isaac, there's at least five different things anyone with half a brain could use to invalidate my active petitioning for mage rights. And unfortunately, given how the Mage/Templar war went and Thedas' current common enemy, it's going to take a defter hand than mine to move things in an ideal way at that level. If you'd like to join the clergy, we might be able to pull that off and it'd be a start. In the meantime, you're welcome to come along with me on my Kirkwall rounds."

[wythersake]

"I will bear it in mind,"

He absolutely will not. He offers the cigarette — would she like it? And moves to stand once more.

"Good evening, Sister."

[okayimin]

He won't, but it wasn't much of a suggestion to start with. She takes the offered cigarette, takes a drag and misses the close, stinking air of Dust Town.

"Evening and what good it has for you," she says. "I reckon I don't need to tell you to take care of yourself, seein' as you're one of the few who seems to know how to, but I keep my spare stash of medicinals in the chapel office, if you find yourself needing anything."

Which yes, all right, she's telling him to take care of himself.