is this what you're doing with your one wild and precious life?

[kantikoy]

WHO: Adrasteia, Erik, other folks.
WHAT: It's an open log
WHEN: Mid to late Guardian
WHERE: Kirkwall, &c.
NOTES: Erik curses. That's about it. Open starters in threads.

Comments

open to more folks

[pittance]

"Neat trick," Vance plants an elbow against stone to blow on his hands. Call it a breather, he's been digging, and good gloves still soak. The Sister is temporarily distracted — some girl with a doll — "Should come back later, finish it up."

Makes sense to send a dwarf to Darktown, where slick tunnels open onto street. Would've done better to send a different dwarf, which may say a piece on why Vance has stayed tight-lipped through this little excursion.

[kantikoy]

"Once the Sister is safely within Riftwatch's walls," Adrasteia says, careful not to allow her voice to carry too far or too loudly, "that's the plan."

There's too much to be done just for this sort of surreptitious work. She'd rather be a mage and a Warden and proudly both than heating the supports of the house with a touch and a glancing over her shoulder, but. Well. Not every situation calls for that, and she doesn't want the Sister up in arms or having to explain a situation that she's not directly involved in.

Seems like good politics, that.

The house she's warming gives a threatening groan and Adrasteia steps back, peering at the roof. It doesn't give way, thank the Maker for small miracles, and she turns back to Vance with her hands open.

"How's your gloves?" Hers are warm, but she can share the wealth, as it were.

[pittance]

"Wet as the wolf’s mouth."

Leave it there and you’ll lose a finger. But his manner’s easy as he passes palms into hers. They've got somewhere to go back to. Which —

"Gives us a chance to load up," Bandages or breadrolls or whatever this week’s charity project; Riftwatch is always arms-deep in Darktown’s business. His voice stays low, "Think she likes you?"

She's friendly, and Adra, Adra seems to know the words. Seems a little like she believes.

[kantikoy]

It takes some work to be able to heat through something damp without causing it to burn to a crisp, but Adrasteia is good at that sort of thing. She focuses on the left first, and then the right, warming his gloves through her own as she turns over his question in her head.

Does the Chantry Sister like her?

"I don't know," is what she settles on eventually, also keeping her voice low. "She could just be being polite about it."

[pittance]

That's the thing with magic: Never stops being a bit — well — magical. Lyrium come whistling down the lungs. His fingers stretch — silent appreciation, the wonder of a thing done well.

"Maybe," Considers, "But she hasn't handed you a blanket."

Metaphorically. The Sister likes charity. More important,

"You like her?"

[kantikoy]

"Not enough to do anything about it," Adrasteia admits, feeling a little foolish for even discussing it. She's blushing and frowning simultaneously. "She's bright and very sweet, but she doesn't belong tied up to a Warden. Besides she's not even from here."

[pittance]

"Thought they took vows on that," Whatever that's worth. But: "She's not from here, then no one's tied down."

[kantikoy]

"They do! Well." A beat. "I'm pretty sure they do."

But whether or not it matters depends on each individual sister, definitely.

"I don't know. I don't... really do that." Get involved with people. Adrasteia glances at the Chantry Sister again and shakes her head.

[pittance]

"Yeah?" The shrug comes easy, he's not about to push. (Dead husband, young woman —) "Nothing wrong with friends."

The kind without benefits.

[kantikoy]

"...that's true."

Adrasteia glances the sister's way again, who looks up and smiles.

"We could write." Adrasteia brightens a bit. "That would probably even be helpful to more than just me."