player plot | when my time comes around, pt 2

[cozen]

WHO: Anyone who didn't die here.
WHAT: A sad week.
WHEN: Approx Solas 21-30
WHERE: Granitefell, the Gallows, wherever else you want.
NOTES: A second log for this plot. Additional posts/logs will cover the time travel/fix-it components—this one is for the time period where no one knows that's a possibility.

Those who fly out to Granitefell arrive a few hours after dawn to find a smoldering gravesite and fewer than twenty living souls, Riftwatch's five included. The survivors have done what they can in the intervening hours, but there's still work to be done to tend to wounds, move the bodies—especially the delicate ones—and help the remaining villagers, mostly children, build pyres to see to their own dead before they're relocated somewhere safer. Somewhere with roofs that aren't collapsed or still lightly burning.

Carts to carry Riftwatch's dead won't arrive for some time afterward, and bringing them back takes just as long. It's a few days before they're returned to the Gallows, preserved from decay as best everyone could manage but nonetheless in poor shape from the battle. Pyres are an Andrastian tradition for a reason—to prevent possession—but burials and mummification aren't so unheard of that anyone will be barred from seeing to their loved ones as they see fit.

Before, during, and after any funerary rites, there are absences. Empty beds, empty offices, voices missing from the crystals, pancakes missing from Sundays. Belongings that need to be sorted and letters that need to be written. And, perhaps most pressingly, work that still needs to be done, including the work left behind by those who can no longer follow through on their own projects or tie up their own loose ends, as the world and its war keep moving steadily onward as if nothing happened at all.

Comments

[heartstumbles]

Peter nods. "Yeah, and I get the whole...angry at the gods thing. I've done my share of yelling." Usually either internally or up on rooftops where no one can hear him, and typically not to any one god in particular.

He gets where Mobius is coming from, being angry at the Maker. It's good to find a way to let that anger out, he knows; the way it festers when you try and keep it in, that's when anger turns sharp and dangerous. But it's maybe less helpful to let out that anger in a quiet place of worship where people are trying to pray, so he's glad Mobius has followed him outside.

He manages a small, wry smile back at the 'sorry,' but he does appreciate the sympathy all the same. He's also grateful when Mobius asks about May, and asks Peter to share memories of her. That, he can do. Easily.

"She was the best," he says, stating this like it should be obvious to anyone. And he does believe that; anyone who would meet May would know she's the best, he thinks. "She always listened to me when I needed to talk, and she always responded like I was an adult, even when I was just a kid."

He smiles a little more genuinely as he speaks. He misses May every day but talking about her helps keep her with him. "She was a terrible cook, and she always tried to roast or bake something, but usually set off the smoke alarms. She helped teach me how to tie a tie, and she always pushed me to do better. To be better."

"I try to keep her memory alive by living up to that," he admits. "By trying to do better."

[favoriteanalyst]

This, at least, is soothing to the aches in his soul. If temporarily. Learning things about Rifters will always be his favorite pastime, yes, but just listening to people talk, and talk excitedly, fondly...especially about what they love. Who they love.

"It was just the two of you against the world, huh?" He won't ask what happened to the rest of Peter's family. It can't be anything heartwarming. "Sounds like she made sure to raise you right. You may have come here by happenstance and not by choice, but she'd be proud of what you're doing. For people you don't even know, a cause that isn't yours."

Just because Rifters are brought here for their own safety doesn't mean they're obligated to entrench themselves in Riftwatch, to put themselves in harm's way.

"And hey, you're keeping an old fool from making an even bigger fool of himself. That's not nothing."

[heartstumbles]

"Yeah, exactly! And she would say that too," Peter says, nodding emphatically. "And that we help people, that it's what we're meant to do." He smiles, sorrow and pride both shining through the quirk of his mouth as he talks about May. "She did raise me right. She was the best family I could have ever asked for." She was his only family, and he lost her. He will never stop missing her, or mourning the fact that she died because of his mistakes.

He glances at Mobius when he tells him that May would be proud of him. He smiles, a little bit brighter and wider this time. It means a lot to hear that, especially from someone more experienced with Riftwatch.

"Hey, I'm supposed to be the one making you feel better, remember?" He teases. But he is grateful, all the same.

He shrugs when Mobius mentions Peter helping keeping him from making a fool of himself. "Yeah, well," he says, "I've acted foolishly plenty of times myself. If I can help people from making my mistakes, I'd like to try."

[favoriteanalyst]

"Nobody's ever too old to make dumb mistakes. It just means we keep learning and growing all throughout life. We're never done doing any of that."

What kind of lesson 'lose several of your good friends and a not insignificant chunk of your forces' teaches, but that's something to do inside yelling about. And not in the middle of a chapel yelling.

"A lot of my raising was done by the Chantry." Which maybe speaks volumes right there. "I don't remember much about my family, but the brothers and sister I ended up with, that was family. Lotta things have changed, and I've had to start over a couple times. But here...this is a real messy, complicated family. But it's the one I've got now, for better or worse."

[heartstumbles]

Peter nods. There's something comforting in the idea of never being too old to make dumb mistakes, he thinks. In all honesty, he assumes he's got a whole lot of dumb mistakes ahead of him, both here and back home. If he ever makes it back home, that is.

Mobius tells him that he was raised by the Chantry and Peter empathizes with him, hearing that. From what he can tell, the Chantry here shares a lot of similarities with the Catholic church back home, and he imagines that being raised by the Chantry is as harsh as being raised in a Catholic orphanage, maybe even more so, given that a lot of the people raised by the Chantry here seem to become soldiers for the Chantry.

"I can't imagine it was easy, being raised by the Chantry," he offers. "But I'm glad you were able to find family there. And here, now. I think all families are complicated and messy, no matter what people tell themselves. It's holding people close and people getting on your nerves but you still love them anyway."

He pauses, shakes his head. "And when you lose them it always hurts like someone's taken a dagger to your chest and started carving."