open | nine ways till sunday

[icasm]

WHO: Loki, Erik, Adrasteia & y'all
WHAT: Catch-all
WHEN: Late Solace / Early August
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: Language warning for Erik, otherwise nothing yet. Open starters in comments.

Comments

Loki

[icasm]

[ If you would like a bespoke starter, please reach out to me! ]

quarantine in the gallows | ota

[icasm]

It's a trying couple of weeks for one Loki Laufeyson, for several reasons. First of all, he's here, and he's not sure where here is in the greater cosmology of things. Were Thedas more technologically advanced, perhaps he would. Or perhaps it doesn't matter; all he knows is that he's far from the reach of Yggdrasil, the Nine Realms, or the TVA, despite how many (not native to Thedas) Midgardians there are here.

So. He spends a lot of time in the library but also in the room he shares with what he can only presume is the help (what fun!) pouring over the books that were suggested to him and copying documents given to him by Alexandrie.

When he isn't in the library or the group rooming situation, attempting to sleep in and failing miserably, he investigates the apothecary, the docks (of course), and the prayer garden as it is nice, quiet, and presumably, he won't be disturbed there. Presumably.

Disturb him, please.

[armd]

Not the only person combing through the library, then. Abby has been whittling away her quarantine time in here, for a couple of hours a day. It has a good atmosphere; she likes libraries, always has. There's a lot to read up on.

In fact, she's got her eye on one of the books in a stranger's stack. She'd been reading it the other day. Actually marked her place when she realised she wasn't going to finish it up, just to come back to it later, because she didn't think that anybody else would have been interested... the library is often sparsely populated.

"Can I borrow that." She's wedging it out from between the stack without waiting for a reply.

[icasm]

"Are you used to making questions into statements and ignoring the possibility of rejection?"

Loki frowns at this girl, before making a decision and lifting the books on top of the one she's trying to pry free. "Don't move the bookmarks." If she dog-eared her page, she'll find it's been replaced with a piece of blue ribbon. "And bring it back when you're done."

[armd]

Abby grunts, because it's not a question that actually needs an answer, and flips to the spot in her book. There are quite a few spots marked but she remembers the number, and finds the thin blue ribbon in place of her dog-eared page. It's quite pretty, actually. She rubs her thumb against it, before she tucks it into her pocket.

"Will do." What else does he have there, in his stack? She glances down the spines, walking her fingers along them.

"How soon are you gonna need this?" She's eyeing another, at the bottom.

back at the docks~

[coquettish_trees]

[ The slight narrow of his eyes against the wind and the way it ruffles fingers through his hair, the attentiveness in his gaze that she marks even in profile at a distance because she knows it is there, the lines and shapes he makes against the water and sky: Alexandrie is watching Loki watch the water.

And she is trying not to behave as if he belongs to her. The amount of work there is to do means she cannot sit with him all hours of the day, and when she makes herself take half a day his mandated stay on the island means she cannot tempt him to go to the theatre or the market or a café in Hightown with a view of the sea.

It makes her... tentative. Unsure, in a way that rustles nervous wings in her chest. Not wanting to be too near, not wanting to be far, not sure yet if she is succeeding in making separation in herself between the man looking at the boats and the one she leaves a candle in the window for. Not sure what she wants of him, not sure if she should have it; she had spoken to Byerly as if she did not know if this Loki would care for her, she had spoken to Byerly as if their loving one another had been inevitable.

She struggles in this way. In others. But she is quiet to watch him watch the water. And then she breathes, adjusts her courage around her shoulders like a shawl, and moves to stand beside him. Look up. Smile. ]

How was your meeting?

[icasm]

[ There's something about watching the boats on the water, the bustle of people coming and going that soothes Loki's continually slightly frayed nerves. When the rest of the Gallows feels like the walls are constraining him in, the water reminds him that there's an entire planet he can explore (eventually).

He misses the longboats amongst the stars of his youth; the boats here are different, as are the stars, but the whisper of freedom still exists there.

Alexandrie is different. A small bright spot in a landscape wholly unfamiliar to him; a constant in a world where his expectations and understanding continually changes. He feels guilty, sometimes, being so drawn to her, when he feels uncertain that it isn't just his own narcissist tendencies playing themselves out over and over again.

But he does wonder if Sylvie would be something like her, had she grown up properly in Asgardian courtly life.

And then he feels guilty all over again.

But when she stands near him he can't help but smile down at her, with her voluminous skirts and subtle finery and perfume that lingers around the Gallows office rooms he's been in. ]

Ah. [ A sigh. ] Your Ambassador is a difficult man to read, but it did not go as poorly as I might have feared. He wishes proof that I can be of some use to the Division, I think, but what the proof will look like I don't know.

How was your conversation with him?

[coquettish_trees]

[ Her eyebrows raise slightly. Proof. Everyone belonging to Riftwatch is obligated to join a division, and everyone who falls from the rifts is essentially obligated to belong to Riftwatch.

She cannot recall there ever being a need for anyone to prove themselves initially.

And so a special case, the way to mistrust paved by another’s feet. Although, given Loki’s history with the Provost, perhaps his own as well. ]

I imagine “proof” will look somewhat unpleasant in a way tailor-made for you and he shall be watching to see if you balk at it.

[ Perhaps watching to see if I do.

She turns toward the water and sighs ruefully through her nose, then smiles when a sail billows out on the water as if she had been the wind. ]

My conversation was—

[ Fraught. Laced with the fears that eat at the both of them. Alexandrie sighs again and looks for movement in the sail, but she is not the wind. ]

—he is worried things will change between he and I, and I could not say they will not, though I did not think the change would be ill.

Even if…

[ Even if nothing comes of this.

She looks at the boats. Water. Boats again. The clouds racing one another across the sky, the summer afternoon storms that seem particular to Kirkwall gathering on the horizon. His hands. Her own. ]

He knows I am like to love you.

the docks.

[hornswoggle]

"Keep staring at that cargo and someone is going to pitch you into the harbor," comes a voice, administering what is actually fair advice. Whether or not it comes from personal experience, well.

John wasn't always a quartermaster, after all.

However, he has ascended to the docks out of a small dinghy, which is now departing. Under one arm is a large, leather-bound tome, which John keeps close as he leans his weight onto his crutch.

[icasm]

Loki raises a single eyebrow in question. "I suppose it's a good thing I can swim, then." Please don't push him in the water, good man, he'd rather not have to deal with whatever is in the water around here. He sincerely doubts it's that clean.

But! In the interest of... being sociable or something, Loki turns away from his watching of the water to turn towards this man. "Are you native to this world or one of us who fell through, dreaming? If you don't mind my asking."

[hornswoggle]

"You could buy me a drink, before prying," says John, a man who certainly never prys.

But it seems to be an idle request, as he tips his head at Loki, moving past him to ascend the steps onto the street. This is a walk and talk situation.

"I'm native to Thedas, semi-recently of Kirkwall," is the answer, one that Loki will have to keep up with him to hear. Nevermind that he's edged out of semi-recently terms with Kirkwall, after the length of time he's been present. "But you, I assume, are the latter? And newly so?"

closed to byerly

[icasm]

Loki has been here a week and a half, by this point, and while he doesn't exactly know if Alexandrie has spoken with the Ambassador but he does know this:

He needs a room of his own. Or else he's going to start screaming the next time half the room wakes up at the crack of dawn, noisy and chipper and whatever else. He can't handle it anymore. He just can't.

So. He makes his way up the stairs (too many stairs, honestly, way too many) and knocks on the door of the office labeled "Diplomacy".

At least he didn't find the housing quarters first.

[bouchonne]

It's a rare moment when Benedict isn't in the office. Which - Perhaps it's a good thing for Loki that Benedict isn't there, indeed, because the young man has sense enough that he'd likely try to keep distance between Loki and his sour-tempered boss, cutting off all access to the Ambassador. But on the other hand, that distance would be for Loki's safety as well. So really, who's to say?

Regardless, what it means is that after Loki knocks, it's Byerly's voice that says, "Enter."

[icasm]

This is going to be great, Loki thinks to himself, because really if he doesn't give himself a pep talk he'll never go through with this.

Alternatively, he'll set the group housing room he's in on fire tomorrow morning, and see how well that goes over with everyone.

No, this is definitely the correct action, even though he's completely unsure how it will actually go. So. Loki pokes his head around the door and then the rest of him follows, dressed in the typical clothing Riftwatch grants their wayward Rifters use of upon arrival. "I was hoping to speak to you about joining the Diplomacy Division."

There. Short, sweet, to the point. No presumptions and no attitude. He clasps his hands behind his back and waits to see what happens next.

slithers on over

[altusimperius]

Enough time has passed since Loki's quarantine and their last, uh, encounter that Benedict has almost had an opportunity to forget the strange lookalike was even here. When he spots him across the room at some meal or another, there's a brief look of surprise, and then he remembers-- his smile turns wry, and Benedict offers a nod of greeting.

[icasm]

It's less that Loki had forgotten about Benedict and more that for one thing, there are a lot of people coming and going in the Gallows, and for another, he's been... distracted. Mostly with the developing situation between him and Alexandrie, but she's not here, and Benedict has nodded, so Loki takes that as an invitation to bring over his plate of fruit and coffee mug and situate himself across from this person who is not quite his friend and definitely not quite a stranger.

"Hello," he says as he sits down. "How've you been, Benedict?"

[altusimperius]

Maker, it never gets less weird.

'How've you been, Benedict,' he mimics in his best Loki impression, grinning between sips of his own coffee. "Fine, fine, just having a laugh with a childhood acquaintance's body double. How about yourself?"

Erik

[clawings]

kirkwall & the gallows | ota

[clawings]

Erik is a man who likes to keep busy. On his return to the Gallows he continues his combat exercises in full armor, plays some tennis, and takes advantage of the heated baths on a several-days-per-week basis.

For his part, generally, when he's not in the Gallows, can be found in the Market District of Lowtown or in a Lowtown bar here or there. Erik doesn't appear to have a favorite watering hole. There's also city projects to work on, like building temporary refugee housing

He also pops in on the Alienage from time to time, a familiar albeit human face amongst the elves he's much taller than. He's often making haste through the neighborhood in the thirty to forty minutes before the last ferry to the Gallows makes its departure from the docks, not weaving as he walks but only just barely. For someone that holds their liquor well, he seems to be taking it pretty heavily these evenings.

[armd]

Abby's only just getting used to working with swords let alone in sets of full armour; nobody has spoken to her about missions or her own gear, and she has a vague feeling that it's up to her to sort it out. Turns out asking around gets you practice equipment, all of it ill-fitting and surprisingly heavy. Nothing she can't handle, but bewildering to think that people typically fight like this at the same time.

She's watching people practice, while she gets her grieves on. Better to keep it simple, and layering the armour on as she gets used to how it changes up her movements.

"Need a partner?" There's only one other person out practicing right now. Abby likes that, the dedication, so she calls out. Might be able to copy over a couple moves, too.

[clawings]

"Always," the man replies. He's dressed in his own armor, primarily colored in blues and silver, with a blade that lets off heat even when it's not actively on fire. Erik takes in the armor the girl is layering on and nods in her direction. "You new?"

Adrasteia

[kantikoy]

closed to ellis

[kantikoy]

There are holes in the walls of the Warden's office in the Gallows.

Adrasteia doesn't even really care how they came to be there; she just wants them gone. This means patching the wall, and repainting it, unless whoever uses the office wants to stare at caulking holes which, she doesn't, so... repainting it is.

She's got the paint and a ladder. Now all she needs is a soul taller than her to help.

[heorte]

And one materializes in the doorway, as summoned.

Ellis takes in the space, considering the wall for a long moment before turning his attention to Adrasteia.

"What color have you picked?" is almost teasing. He crosses from her to the window to press open the shutters, take some measures against the scent of paint growing overpowering as they work.

[kantikoy]

Adrasteia grins at Ellis.

"A soft robin's egg blue, for that wall." The one with all the... pit marks in it, or whatever. "A cream for the rest." She indicates the paint cans in the corner, which have little stripes of their indicative colors painted on the lids. She also has brushes of various sizes and widths and thicknesses. "I have coffee, and water, from downstairs. Thank you." Just, ahead of time, for all his help.