faderift | and I'm haunted

Entry tags:

and I'm haunted

WHO: Hercules & Leliana & Ruby & whoever would like a thread with them 8Db
WHAT: a catch all for February-March;
WHEN: the next monthish :|b
WHERE: Skyhold, Emprise, maybe somewhere else.
NOTES:
1. individual starters in el commentos
2. specific themes and warnings will be dropped into subject lines as necessary.
3. if you are threading with Leliana it would be amazing if you could reply to this post re: information she could know about your character.
4. if we have discussed doing a thread but there isn't a starter here, feel free to just barge in and set one up! otherwise prod me and I can add it asap, I have a to-do list but I am also scatterbrained ;u;
5. I'm not doing open prompts this time for Leliana, but if you would like a thread with Leliana, please don't hesitate to get in touch with me! I am just trying to do custom things because she is in a particular state of mind, at present.
6. I am sorry there are so many notes

apparently I am being pretentious this month

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Recently. Recently so many things had been scorched down, literally and metaphorically, and her brow creases.

"Used to be?" Leliana cannot help sounding gently incredulous, trying to pin down Clarke's tone. Used to be hardly seemed as though it should even fall into the vocabulary of one so young as Clarke, but Leliana knows as well as anyone else that age can rarely be used as a marker for such things. Tilting her head just slightly, she observes Clarke for a moment longer before speaking.

"There will be plenty of time to resume your passions. Skyhold is home to many beautiful things, I think. An artist is more likely to find them than others. Showing things to people in ways they might not have considered previously is a gift well worth pursuing."

And what is art, music, storytelling... what are all of those things, if not the presentation of new perspectives and insights?

That's something to consider. Herc looks her way for a moment, and starts digging a bit of a part with his hands, heaping the snow in on direction before realising that it's probably going to be a waste of time. All the more to work with, sure, but he might need to wade a bit to find a spot where he isn't so likely to lose a Dalish under the snow, and so they can start actually making their griffon before the sun sets. He moves a little further along, effectively creating a bit of a path for Merrill to join him, as he goes. Knee-deep... better, probably. (Hopefully.)

"Ends happen all the time," Herc starts, after a bit of a pause, trying to figure what might be worth saying. "Life's full of 'em. My experience, though, is that they normally bring some kinda beginning along with 'em."

Not that it's necessarily the beginning of anything you want, but there's no need to tell her that, is there?

"Yeah, I can imagine. Not the kind of thing you see every day." And though he doesn't laugh, there's a whole lot of amusement in the look he gives her.

He doesn't know if he's distracted her at all, or made himself forgettable. He needs to be better at both of those, but how do you practice that? ...Maybe with the few rogues he knows, actually, but it's too late for this encounter. Anders nods to her and tries to seem like he's just busy.

"And I need to prepare a few things for the group in Emprise. Have a good day, and let me know if you ever need a cat in your tower. There are two close to having litters, and cats appreciate a home when it's cold."

There. That's casual enough, and it gives him the freedom to turn away from her and get back to actual work, letting Purrelden get back down on the table and bat at his hands in the meantime.

When and if - more probable on if knowing Herc - Bethany ever found out about this? She was going to probably watch the Nevarrans a lot more closely. After all, one of them had gotten a knife. From Herc.

"Hmmm ... friendly ones have never been the problem. Brave ones? That's a whooooole different contest." She waved her hand a little, before she nodded her head furiously. "We do. And pffff ... leather and fur look good. We have the best...bestest breeches in all of Thedas. Ask anyone who likes people in tight ...er ... lower garments."

She straightened, giving him a grateful smile, before nodding her head furiously again, "It Is! I don't mind being nice because I am nice but sometimes ... I wish people could just be ... nicer. You know?"

Harding's reaction is small, and subtle. Easily missed. Her face lowers as she purses her lips in thought; she's very still, as her arms go to her sides. It's that stillness that betrays her consideration of rifters as scouts, perhaps more than that. Harding has few qualms with the rifters - most earn their keep. There's the wariness, the caution, of anything new, yet... she's met a lot of different people from a lot of different places and cultures, and maybe some of what can be said of them is true, but not for that specific person. She holds that kind of judgement until it is deserved; she'd much rather give the benefit of the doubt, if they are willing to aid the Inquisition. Willingness might not be all there is to it; it's a shrewd thought, because a rifter would have little option, fewer outside influences.

It makes sense. A rifter could be entirely loyal. But that loyalty could derive from necessity, rather than trust.

"If they've caught your eye they must be something special," she says, after a second or so of silence. "As long as they know what's involved, and they're happy to do it? I don't see why not. Some have proven themselves many times... others are practically part of the scouts already, in all but name. Better we give them the chance than have them slip away before we do." She doesn't just mean to other callings, but she doesn't have to spell that out to Leliana. She'll know.

"Now's good," she adds, without much delay. She's of the same opinion of Leliana, mostly, but, well. "Not much of a challenge, honestly. We should probably invest in rigging up some moving targets before we both get sloppy."

She shakes her head firmly. There's nothing uncertain about her answer there. She might have a higher calling than just the Inquisition, yeah, but there's absolutely nothing she's about to do to hurt the organization right now. And, honestly, she doesn't think that she'd be able to even do any real damage if she intended it.

So, firmly, she answers, "No." Then a firm nod. "Not to the Inquisition and not to myself. Not beyond...the normal scope of danger posed when someone thinks that there are things much more important than their personal safety."

Don't worry, Herc. If Merrill gets buried, she'll pop out of the snow like- well, like a daisy, honestly. The path is appreciated, though, and she is careful to try and stay in his footsteps where they pack the snow down further. It isn't too terribly difficult, with snow keeping his strides from being as long as they might otherwise be.

"That's true. But they hadn't always felt so... prominent before they happened. At least, not for me."

But Merrill never could have guessed what would happen, even when she'd known something was going to.

She does laugh, though, shaking her head as she reaches down to scoop up some snow.

"We always did seem to find ourselves in weird situations. We even went to the Black Emporium!"

Leliana listens, sips her wine, and nods. "Very well. If you are willing to report in the morning, we can commence some weapons training for you. I would not see you in the field without a means to defend yourself. if you are already... proficient then it would do well to assess your strengths and see where weaknesses might be turned to strengths."

It will be more complicated, of course, but small steps in the beginning. No good would come of hobbling Kitty before giving her a chance to walk at all.

"Does that sound agreeable?"

"No." No, they don't always feel like that, and he exhales quietly, stopping finally and starting to gather up some snow, to start heaping it in one place. He's not exactly an artist, all right, this griffon probably is going to be a bit more like a potato with wings if left to his supervision. "They won't always feel like that, either, though. Some stuff takes a lot of time to get a handle on, but... eventually it'll be less like a pothole that could take the wheel off a cart, and more like a little bump."

He's not sure the comparison even makes all that much sense, but he's not exactly a wordsmith.

"You? Getting into weird situations?" A moment of pause, brows raising. "I don't believe it."

Potatos must also dream of flying, or something. But at least Merrill has some level of artistic talent; they'll get it to look passable, if nothing else. A meowing potato with wings, perhaps?

Another laugh and she flicks a bit of snow at him, not anywhere near enough to actually hit Herc but enough to get the teasing point across. "I think it was more Hawke than me, at the time. But now... well, here I am."

Hawke, again. Not a surprise, friends were like that. Herc doesn't really know what kinda man he'd be, without certain friends having shaped him along the way, and who he shaped right back.

"Here you are," he agrees, good natured and flicking some snow right back. His aim is more accurate, unfortunately, though not on purpose - more just habit. "Official Snow Ambassador to the Inquisition."

Hawke was so important to all of them -- Merrill honestly still isn't sure how she functions without her. She feels diminished, somehow, as if Hawke had made her more than herself and now she's just Merrill. Not healthy, perhaps, but true nonetheless.

"Official, hm? I've never had a title past 'First to the Keeper' before, and that didn't matter to anyone outside the Dalish. And I think I'm less likely to give this position up." It's not a flick of snow toward Herc this time but a small handful, Merrill grinning. You've got a new friend now, Hercules Hansen.

"Hey, careful now," Herc objects, laughing as the snow splatters against his stomach. "It's all fun and games until a snow fight gets serious."

Very sagely said, as he pats a a couple of handfuls of snow into a solid snowball, holding it up. He considers it for a long moment, before looking back to Merrill, and tossing it in her direction. Not full force, but if it hits its target, she might just get a shoulder splattered with snow.

It hits and Merrill laughs, almost shrieking with it. A brief moment of consideration has her decide that yes, they absolutely have time for a snowball fight before making their snow griffin, and so she forms a real snowball and lightly tosses it between her hands.

"Afraid to take on a mage in the snow?" It's all a tease -- for one thing, she's not going to use magic to make balls of ice and then pelt them at him -- followed by a toss of the snowball toward his chest.

"Yeah. It does."

Kitty takes a breath, and then smiles a smile that's a little self-conscious - but a little eager, too. She ducks her head slightly to hide it. She knows that she's doing a service for Leliana. She knows she's volunteering to put her life on the line. But at the same time, she feels compelled to say, "Thanks. For being willing to trust me."

There is something in that thanks, the touch of earnestness to it which weighs on her heart. Each of her scouts lives a life of danger and risk, dedicating themselves to the Inquisition and Leliana's service. The decision is their own, but the responsibility for their safety and their well-being falls to her. She hopes against all odds that none of them come to regret their choice.

"Thank you for coming to me. I appreciate your initiative, and your interest." She raises her cup of wine, in a little toast, of sorts. "To your good health, Kitty."

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Page 5 of 5

and I'm haunted

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i need an inspirational cross stitch of "potatoes must also dream of flying"

if i did cross stitch i would make you one

maybe I will learn just for this

if i ever need a new personal username it should be 'flyingpotato'

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