Skyhold

[faderifting]

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.

Comments

[lacere]

If she's embarrassed, she doesn't show it; just blinks, and half smiles back at him, which has been known to emphasise the freckles and make her seem mischevious. She can do the playful thing back, right? It's just banter. And if he keeps doing that thing with his face and his voice, she doesn't really object.

"I bet. How often does that extra bedroll disappear?"

[ombranera]

And now she smiles and it is mangificent. All playful cheeks and curving lips and Zevran would be a fool not to take the bait as given. He tips his head forward enough for a few strands of hair to fall over his shoulder, brushing against his cheek. The contrast is, as he has been told, striking.

"As often as my companion finds agreeable." See? He is a respectful Lothario.

[lacere]

Now that smile is all a smirk. Is she impressed or just coy or none of the above? A lady never tells. Harding sits a little straighter, folding her arms against the table as she leans forward herself.

Huh, the angle is better just here. Consider her struck, and, y'know, just stay like that forever.

"And do they? Find it agreeable?"

[ombranera]

He can't quite get a bead on her- and that is more exciting than it should be. He lets his voice drop low, as though spelling a secret only for her ears. Voice warm with promise he murmurs. "Far more than agreeable, Piccola."

[lacere]

She does like the way he says that, it's true. A noise of agreement - maybe consideration, maybe not - is all he gets for a few long, laborious seconds, coupled with that same grin.

And then, just like that, she stops leaning forward. "Interesting. Can't say I'd ever use that information, but interesting."

Well, she didn't say no, but she is smirking good and proper.

[ombranera]

...What?


He. What? Usually this is where the flirting becomes more intense, not less. What just happened?

His surprise is fleeting, his smile wide. "It is an offer that stands from now till the end of days."

[lacere]

However fleeting, she catches it just enough for that smirk to spread - you just got purposefully outplayed by Scout Harding, is what happened. Sorry, handsome stranger - she requires a little more wining and dining and wooing than that, as pretty as your face is (and the rest of you also likely is).

But she chuckles, none-the-less, his answer endearing him to her. "Maybe I'll think about it. Does an offer like that come with a name?"

Handsome stranger works, but she's sure you have something more personable.

[ombranera]

It is not often someone outmanuvers him. He is impressed- which only makes him want her all the more. Of course the round goes to her, the rest is his to make up. He shall manage. Somehow.

"Zevran Arainai, at your service." He offers his hand, long fingered and warm.

[lacere]

She takes it, with a strong grip and a firm nod. She doesn't wink, but she might as well have with the curve to her lips.

"Scout Harding," she says in return.

[ombranera]

"A pleasure to meet you, Harding." He squeezes her hand in turn, leaning back out of so a seductive pose and settling into something more casual.