it takes strength to live this way

[qunari]

WHO: Iron Bull and OPEN
WHAT: General summary of events during the end of the month. Drinking, fighting, more drinking, maybe a little flirting.
WHEN: Mid-to-late Wintermarch
WHERE: All over the damn place. Mostly the tavern and sparring ring, though.
NOTES: n/a

He was starting to feel a little restless. By now, the boss would have taken them all out on some exploit or another, and even if he was glad to be at Skyhold again? Sitting idle could grate on the nerves a bit.

The best way to counter that seemed to be throwing down in the training ring just outside the tavern, taking on all comers as well as training those that seemed of a mind to ask. Cullen had most of his people following their own regime, but if they wanted a swing at something else? He wouldn’t refuse them. Not everyone fought like a templar.

The rest of the time, Bull made himself easy to find. Easy to avoid, too, if that was the preference of some. And he knew it was, from the glimpsed he’d gotten of the Vashoth inside the keep. But it was no hardship holding court inside the comfort of the tavern, indulging heavily in drinks and working his way down the menu of available meals and snacks.

It was business as usual, for the most part. Even if he did feel a little more restless than usual. Had to find a way to get out, hit something that really had it coming.

Or find someone to pass the evening with. That might help.

Comments

[apostasia]

"The rift prevented me from dying," Martel says, critically, "or the healer wouldn't have made a difference. It was far too late."

You don't forget what that feels like. He wakes up nights in a cold sweat, choking on nothing, a heaviness and a psychosomatic burn in his lungs; that he lives is magic of some sort beyond what can be offered by a healer. Dark? A matter of opinion, he suspects. It's difficult to argue that the rifts aren't inherently harmful.

It's hard to argue that he isn't, all things being equal. But he has a rather intimate experience of forbidden magic, and it feels different. Slicker.

"I'd say that qualifies for serious magic. Whether you think I'm pretty or not is entirely your own affair."

[qunari]

Whether he's pretty or not has ceased to matter. The rift kept him from dying. But the rift is meant to be a hole in the Veil, a path to the Fade. Where dead things go. So how is it it managed to save his life?

It results in a very skeptical look. One thing that makes the Bull nervous above all other things, after all, is the possibility of demons. Not that he's afraid of bashing their faces in. That part's easy. It's the part where they get inside your head, where all your strength and cunning mean nothing in the face of something that insidious.

Martel doesn't act possessed. There's definitely something off about the guy, and he'll keep an eye on him, but for now? The answer more than warrants a raised eyebrow. "Hn. Yeah, well...better than the alternative, I guess. Still creepy as shit."