faderift | I can do it with instruments,

Entry tags:

I can do it with instruments,

WHO: Leliana & open;
WHAT: the many adventures of Sister Nightingale - open prompts and some custom made.
WHEN: Some prompts can be backdated, if you like! Otherwise, spanning the end of fantasy land January.
WHERE: various!
NOTES:brackets or prose are fine, I'll match whatever you prefer :Db feel free to pp me on @swoons on plurk, or pm me if you'd like a custom starter! I'm more than happy to whip one up.

( herald's rest. )

( and there goes someone slinking out of the tavern, and they may just have knocked into your character on their way. they have lost a fine dagger and a bag of coin to a woman sitting in the corner, who is presently shuffling cards with a slight, pleased smile. it was foolish to let skills atrophy, whether it is the wielding of blades and arrows, or the brutal delivery of a winning hand. she has finished her wine, and is waiting for the man at the bar to deliver more. )

( gardens. )

( In the past she would spend more time in their little improvised Chantry, have lit candles and murmured prayers. She finds herself lacking the inclination, today. The Chantry has been a comfort to her for so many years, now, but she has always existed at odds with others. The brothers and sisters in Lothering had doubted her, and there had been part of her that relished the attention, even as she was appalled by their self-centered obsession that the Maker's love must make you unique. The memory makes a sharp, unpleasant smile tug at the corners of her mouth as she wanders the garden. It has become something of habit, letting the sun's descent and the pulling away of the yellows and oranges pooled across the sky and the inky blue and black of the night sky truly falls. Perhaps it is dramatic of her, but she would like to allow herself the indulgence.

Perhaps she hears the approach, and it breaks her from her reverie, or perhaps it is one of the rare occasions where she chooses to make the approach. )

It is beautiful, no?

( wildcard. )

I'm lazy, hit me with whatever idea grabs you :]b Rookery? Nug adventures? idk ANYTHING

( alistair. )

( Most people give their friends some warning before visiting.
Most people, however, are not Leliana, and so it is that she is standing at the entrance of Alistair's chambers just as he is leaving to go somewhere, a squeaking nug following at her ankles. She cannot loom over Alistair (it's not like she can physically loom over most people, actually) but she still has something of a presence, and she sometimes forgets not to loom in social settings. Or maybe she just wants to see the look on his face, because Alistair is so terribly expressive. She can't imagine a worse spy, but that's an endearing quality in a friend. ) Did I catch you at a bad time?

( That smile suggests that she isn't overly concerned about it, actually. )

( maria hill. )

( There were not many templars she held in esteem. Or, perhaps, there were not many templars that she deemed worthy of their rank and responsibility-- no. Leliana frowns, discontent with her own thoughts. The Chantry was a flawed thing, a thing that needed gutting and reworking in its entirety, as much as she suspects the very mention of such thoughts would make some amongst her frequent company less than easy. The Maker was a being of love, of acceptance - and he made mages, and granted them their gift. Why, then, was it the Maker's will that they be torn from their families, treated as if they were abominations before a demon could so much have dreamed of tempting them. Their gifts were shackled, and their wills, and all the while murderers and thieves like Leliana herself could walk free. It was not right, and the thoughts of Chantry corruption, of templar abuses of power and the suffering that those who claimed to do the Maker's bidding brought was insufferable. It could not endure.

Leliana paces, one hand balled into a tight fist as she walks the ramparts, eager to gain some air away from the rookery. And perhaps these thoughts leave her a hypocrite, because what is she, if not a bringer of death? She could bring men to their knees with a threat and a whisper, and cut their throats for the sake of certainty. She was no better, that she knows, but it is not for herself that she Chantry must be reformed. No, she knows the darkness within, and it is only one so well-versed that could dream of cutting away such a foul infection with the surgical precision required.

Perhaps the Maker has a sense of humour, that she looks away from the stretch of blue skies and mountains, only to be met with... a templar, and a cooperative one, at that. The hand that was so tightly clenched relaxes, and Leliana eases her posture, leaning against the ivy-strewn wall. ) Maria. I trust all is well?

( zevran. )

( Luncheon between assassins. It was laughable, in a way. Still, she has put off catching up with her old friend for far too long, and of all people, Zevran is one of few she has the most tolerance for. It is not that she is impatient, and she can play parts well, it is simply... Zevran knows her well, better than most, and so there are those who wish to make an impression on Sister Nightingale, on the advisor and the spymaster, or they are afraid of what she knows and what she can do. Neither particularly bothers her, but sometimes it is pleasant to be in the company of those who do carry the same expectations. Perhaps being in the company of one who remembers the earnest bard come lay-sister is a relief, as well, who has seen her evolution.

Leliana is sitting on a rooftop, eyes closed and inhaling deeply, relishing the way the mountain air stings her lungs on the deep breath, and has something of a picnic - if such a term can be used, in these circumstances - laid out. Eyes still closed, she smiles ever so slightly. He may move silently, stalk with the best, but she is Sister Nightingale, and detection is something she has known for decades, now. )

You made it.

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( Interesting. Some might have recoiled rapidly, and yet the healer did not. Leliana Slightly Approves. It suggested a degree of concern for his friend that was quite pleasing. Others might have taken it as a threat, an undermining of Harding's position - and that either spoke well of his steadiness, or undermined his intelligence. She finds herself doubting that it is the latter. )

Our resources are stretched, ( she allows after a moment's consideration. ) We none of us have much time for idle pleasure.

( Still. ) But I would not see diligence rewarded only with exhaustion. If she raises the matter with me, I will consider it.

( And not before. Good intentions did not always reflect the wills of those they are intended to benefit, and if Leliana were to approach Harding herself? That could end poorly, no doubt. ) You, at least, find some time for yourself. Something to celebrate, no?

[Well, at least that's something. Bruce's smile widens a little more and he inclines his head in gratitude.]

Just that alone would suffice. You have my thanks.

[At least if Harding thinks about it in the future, there is more in her favor than before. That's much better than having nothing at all.

With that matter settled Bruce actually steps out of the garden, turning back to glance at it before he replies.] Just a bit, although I use most of it helping out here.

[Though there have been a lot of progress since then, the damage done by the abomination is still not wholly recovered. It will take more time before that entire incident finally fades away enough in the minds of most people.]

( dryly, ) You're quite welcome.

( Leliana does not follow too closely, just drifts close enough to maintain conversation, following his motions, analysing and assessing out of habit, before her gaze follows his own to sweep over the garden and its progress. )

That seems more akin to further work than to recreation.

( Mind you, none of them really have the time for personal indulgence, do they? She's barely seen anyone beyond the capacity of work in longer than she cares to consider. )

It's work that I enjoy. [Well he does enjoy being able to help people as a surgeon too, but working in the garden -- its satisfying in its own way as well. To be able to help grow life and keep it there... it helps him and the thoughts in his mind, on some days.

He gives the garden a sweeping gaze and smiles, looking pleased to see its progress after the damage it suffered. It had come a long way since then and Bruce is glad for that.]

That much I understand.

( To be a bard, that for the longest time had been the greatest thrill. She still enjoys the Game, songs and music and so much brightness, but she sees it differently. Now... now Leliana knows she is very good at what she does, perhaps even brilliant. Whether she enjoys it is another matter entirely. She sees the venomed fangs beyond the bejewelled and glittering scales of the beast. Intrigues are fascinating, puzzles she must solve, and a job well executed (or target, for that matter) is matter of great satisfaction.

She misses, sometimes, the simple life of the lay sister in Lothering. Some people are never intended for such things, however, and she would do well to remember it, straightening her back just slightly, expression sharpening as she, too, observes the garden. )

Perhaps we can see to ensuring the scouts bring back more seeds and saplings. It would not hurt to augment our collection.

That'd be appreciated.

[Bruce can easily think of a few more people who would like that as well. Sina, the strange not-dwarf that comes around, Adelaide... all of them would love to see more varieties of plants flourishing here, and the scouts' aid would be a boon to the progress made here thus far.

He inclines his head in Leliana's direction, showing her his thanks. When he glances back at her, there's a slightly questioning expression on his face.] Do you like gardening as well, if I might ask?

Not at all. ( Too quick, perhaps. Too blunt. ) It is not a practice that I have learned much of, ( she amends, a little more slowly. ) My talents lie in other areas. I create music. The creation of life is a talent quite beyond that. An art I appreciate, rather than emulate.

( Though with that said, she does look over the garden with a certain fondness. ) Tremendous inspiration can come from even a single boom, especially in times such as these.

[There's nothing bad in Leliana's response. Bruce's initial response is to smile at her words, looking faintly amused, but still holding a fair bit of respect at the same time. He knows better than to go and somehow insult the Left Hand of the Divine, after all.]

Creating music can bring life in its own way, too. [And maybe that life isn't as literal as plants or helping patients, but it still counts. Uplifting the spirits of others through song and tunes - that, too, is life in its own way.] That's something you're much better at than I am.

I had impressive tutors, ( she allows, although... impressive is ambiguous enough to offer some gloss to the brutality of it. For so long she appreciated Lady Cecilie's indulgences, her eagerness to give Leliana whatever she could, and so too had she marvelled at Marjolaine and her gifts. Marjolaine, however, had been a poor choice of bedfellow. ) But you must well know that bards often employ their music for rather more sinister purposes than bringing life.

( As she speaks, Leliana drifts forward, idly reaching out to trace the leaves of ivy ascending the walls. So little she does is truly idle, though. There have been times when she envied those who truly could be idle, when she holds so much of Thedas fate in her hands with the secrets she gathers. )

We must exist in balance, I suspect. ( To heal the body and the soul, even if... she is not so focused on her part in that, these days. )

[Of course Bruce knows. There's no way where he can't, having had to exist as he had while going around Thedas as he is. He's met and seen bards, although none of them have ever been to the level of Leliana's. She didn't get her infamy and titles from nowhere after all.

But at the same time there's no denying what she's done for the Inquisition. She's worked tirelessly to keep it going, back at Haven and now, with the passing of the Herald. It's something to at least be respected.]

Even so, I'm sure your music has helped others in some fashion or another. [A brief pause.] Perhaps now more than ever.

[To enies perhaps the song of the Nightingale meant death, but to the people in Skyhold? It meant something else entirely.]

( Ah. She suspects that Bruce may be an astute one, more layered than he might appear. So many see only the weapon, and not the other elements. It is pleasing, in a certain way, a relief. In another? Deeply unsettling. Leliana knows it would be easier to be as severe as the Left Hand must be, without dwelling on those other elements that make her. Alas, even after so many years, the struggle rages on. )

Perhaps. ( Mother Giselle had cemented something when she lead them all in song. She had offered songs of inspiration and solace to the Hero of Ferelden, when they travelled together, had sung before and since, in more circumstances than she cared to count. She had sung at Wynne's funeral. ) Should I consider this a request for more musical renditions, ser?

( A joke, a deflection, was far easier to stomach. )

I can think of a few people who might like that.

[Bruce can't fully understand Leliana's struggles, he knows, but he can at least relate to it, in his own way. To be a person who destroys so much, who sees the danger in every turn and the darkness in others? It would be a lie if Bruce said he hasn't experienced that himself.

He attempts a small smile; he can see the deflection but he doesn't call her out on it. He understands her struggle but knows that he's in no position to help her in it. She probably wouldn't appreciate a random person prying into her personal affairs, anyway.]

I would love to hear more of it myself as well, personally.

And some who will not. ( Herself included, as the case may be. Time for the gardens, and then for singing? When there is business to be seen to, and the fate of Thedas rests in her very hands? )

A personal favour, then. I will see to re-stringing my lute.

( and dusting it, and making sure the trip through the cold has not left it a little warped. Besides, it never hurt to do favours. here and there; it simply meant that people owed you something in return. )

I look forward to hearing your song, Sister.

[She may not like it, but Bruce thinks it'll be good for her - to help her take her mind off all the responsibilities that she has to attend to, if only for a while. When you have so many things to do its important to keep yourself in perspective.

And as far as personal favors went, there were definitely worse things to owe others for.]

I'm sure. ( Leliana turns to start to leave, but stops herself short, first. ) I thank you for your time. I trust you know where to find me.

( She could go, yes, but she has not moved quite yet. She will stay, will listen, if he has more he wishes to ask of her. Time is so often, however, an indulgence she does not have, and what precious little people have should not be intruded upon by spymasters. )

Of course. [Bruce returns quickly and politely, inclining his head in a small bow.] I won't keep you from your duties.

[He's well aware how busy she must be and would rather not keep her from what she has to do. And besides, he's sure they'll see each other around - Skyhold is only so big after all.]

( Her nod is respectful, hands behind her back and shoulders and back painfully upright and rigid. ) Nor will I keep you from your project.

( It is not quite a good evening or look after yourself or anything so light hearted and jovial, but it is something, and her respect is genuine.

She casts a final, appreciative gaze over the gardens, and then she is moving with the stretching shadows, returning to her tower. )

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I can do it with instruments,

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gargles sadly I AM SO SORRY house moving hell + heatwave = terrible tagging practice

its cool! I am sick as balls so am slow too

hooray for... mutual suffering.... D: I hope you feel better soon ;u;

suffering together, wheeeeeeee.... but ty!! i hope you'll feel better soon too!!

the heat wave rages on BUT I WILL BE SO VICTORIOUS gdi

believe in the me who believes in yoooou

INSPIRATIONAL MUSIC AND YELLING

YESTERDAY YOU SAID TOMORROW, SO JUST DO IT

I WILL TRAVEL ACROSS THE LAND, SEARCHING FAR AND WIIIIDDEEE

TO CATCH THEM IS MY REAL TEST, TO TRAIN THEM IS MY CAUSE

i have had this song stuck in my head for days now gdi

Its a good song to be stuck with

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