faderift | Skyhold

WHO: Anyone & everyone
WHAT: Open post for business as usual around Skyhold
WHEN: The first couple weeks of Harvestmere, 9:41 (aka October)
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Please mark any necessary content warnings in thread subject lines. Also, make sure to check out the other log posts already made!

Far from the glamorous adventurous world-saving people signed up for, most of the hustle and bustle in Skyhold at present is cleaning. The Great Hall is a disaster, and crews are assigned to haul out the cracked and rotting planks fallen from the wide-open roof, and tear down the vines covering the walls. Ivy encrusts the main staircase outside and many of the fortress walls and is cleared in section while other groups assess or begin shoring up the stonework as it's revealed. There are scaffolding to build, materials to sort, crates to unload, tents to stitch together or set-up, and on and on and on, endless mundane chores vital to the survival of the organization.

When not hard at work, people cluster around fires across the courtyards. Many mingle freely, going about their business, running errands and messages, planning scouting missions, tallying up supplies, distributing or playing with the sending crystals that were found in a basement vault and which a group of mages have just today finished preparing for use. Once a good number have been passed around and the first Inquisition-wide transmission made messages start being broadcast; maybe you can help someone out.

The rebel mages and renegade templars mainly keep to themselves at opposite sides of the complex given the choice. Mages assist with healing and research and bicker amongst themselves about their options and their fate. Templars help train recruits in swordforms and basic combat techniques or spar with the more advanced and bicker amongst themselves about their options and their fate. Despite having all pledged themselves to the Inquisition, they still feel like separate factions and tension between them is palpable wherever they cross paths.

Like at meals, or the communal message board in the courtyard, or at the Herald's Rest. The mess hall/tavern is so new it still smells of sawdust, and its stock has been limited to one type of strong ale until today, when a shipment of West Hill brandy has finally arrived. The mood in the place is convivial in celebration of that, but there's still plenty of muttering, especially as the night drags on and the discontented get further into their cups.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You notice women?" She's teasing. She knows he has female friends.

He chuckles a bit. "Oh, you're right. I can't see them at all. Who is this invisible person I'm speaking with? Where did you go?" He makes a show of looking around without having to dislodge her.

"Dread Wolf take you," Pel answers unseriously. "One of the clan's best hunters and I can't say it surprises me you can't find an invisible woman when she's leaning against you."

"It's evidence that I've really only been riding Merrick's success this whole time," he replied, grinning at her. "I'm sorry to finally come clean after all of this time."

"Since we've already left the clan, I expect I'm not the one you'll want to apologize to. Eventually. What is it you plan to do for the Inquisition, again?"

"Entertain the troops?" Cyril suggests, though of course that's not very honest. He wants to do whatever he can for the Inquisition.

"Mm!" Pel hastily swallows some wine and raises her finger. "Did you see the entertainer on the cart? The elf with the songs and the lute and a tattoo on his cheek? Not vallaslin, just a tattoo."

His smile widens at that description. "Yes. I've seen quite a bit of him." That means exactly what he implies it to mean. "He's Zevran Arainai."

"You--ugh." She deflates somewhat. "Can't you leave one for me? Just one?"

Cyril raises his brow a bit. "Oh, Pel," he says. "He doesn't seem the type to mind that we're related."

"If I was with him I'd be remembering he was with you and that would very much keep me from having a good time."

Which is sort of all she wants. Just once, wants to know what that's about. She's only ever been with Gavin.

He's quiet for a moment, because he doesn't want to say something to upset her. He considers his words carefully.

"Is there anyone else you're interested in? I'll keep my hands off."

She turns to give him the stink-eye.

"How generous. Because someone would never choose me over you."

She's not completely serious, nor is she completely joking. It's a jest that masks the deep uncertainty in her own desirability.

Cyril raises his brow a bit. "It's not that," he tells her. "You're devoted, beautiful, hard working. Any man would be lucky to have your attention." He says it all very sincerely, as he means every word of it.

"I'm easy. I'm like choosing a meal that is already made but less healthy, to one that will provide nutrition and energy to last but requires more preparation."

The thing is that he isn't really being down on himself so much as honest about their personalities.

"So I'm too inconvenient and difficult to be bothered with." She knows that's not what he meant, but it's how she feels like taking it. "Maybe I shouldn't worry. Maybe I should drink a lot and fling myself into someone's arms and see what happens."

It is a terrible idea. She's almost ready to do it. Isn't she overdue for another terrible decision? One more fun than Gavin?

Edited 2015-10-19 01:27 (UTC)

"You should do what you feel comfortable doing, Pel. This isn't a race." The thought that she might do that just for the sake of doing it and not because it's what she actually wants worries him.

"Not with you, anyway."

She rests her head back against him.

"Nothing is comfortable, Cy. I thought that was the proper way of things and then she tells me it isn't."

Their Keeper. Who told her to replace the pieces of her that she gave away to her clan.

Cyril shifted a bit to press his face against her hair. There was a soft, little nudge there, a bit of open affection. "It takes time to find out what does, lethallan."

She relaxes at the little caress.

"What is," she corrects him belatedly. Because that's what's important.

He chuckles a bit, comforted that she still finds time to focus on those details. "Yes, good to know you're paying attention."

"I will always protect you." The serious-but-not-serious tone is back. "Including from embarrassing yourself."

He grins a bit. "Oh, well that's not a concern as I am pretty shameless."

"Pretty and shameless." Spoken like another correction.

He laughs more openly at that one. "You are the one who said it this time."

"So I did." A sip from her cup. "I don't know how people have the energy to stay up late drinking when there's so much to be done."

It's her way of saying she's exhausted.

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