faderift | 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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"That you aren't." Is he repressing a smile? Barely, because he's teasing her and he's not sure if he should, but he's doing it anyway because his sense of self preservation has never been top notch.

Maybe that comment is exactly why he deserves stealth cauterisation, that earned a surprised, sharp intake of breath that almost sounds like a hiss. There's no reprimand, no explosive outburst, because he thinks he understands what she's doing - though whether it's being helpful and avoiding him tensing up, or just being a bit of a shit, he's not sure. Also seems apt enough for a politician, if he's being honest.

It takes only a couple of moments for him to relax after the sudden flame biting into his skin, and he releases the breath he's been holding slowly. "They're both pretty incendiary," Herc agrees, and the pun is not deliberate, though it does occur to him and he does roll his eyes at himself.

If he asks, it was to keep him from tensing up and anticipating the pain, but let's be honest - Benevenuta isn't a healer, she doesn't know how much difference that actually would've made. There's every likelihood it was at least fifty percent being a little shit where she can get away with it.

(Always an ulterior motive.)

...she rolls her eyes at him, too, glancing up from what she's doing underneath her lashes. It's a sidelong, sly thing that doesn't really argue for or against it being a good idea to tease her, since his mileage may vary on whether it's actually a good thing that she might react other than prissily repressive. Does he need any encouragement. Should he get any. Probably the answer to both of these questions is a resounding 'no', yet here we are.

"I am a firm believer that if you want something done, you should do it yourself."

She doesn't delegate well, historically.

A quiet laugh, at that. "Well, that's how I became a Warden. Seems stupid expectin' other people to go fixing the world for you." Even with that, though, his smile is crooked, and he casts his gaze towards the rest of the camp. "But wanting to get something done and actually following through are very different things."

He hasn't saved the world, yet. They haven't even managed to save the Wardens. There's no self pity in it, just a grim determination. Keep going, no matter the cost. Make the world a better place, hopefully. Might be the best he can manage, at the end of the day, and he can make his peace with that. Saving one person wasn't the same as saving the world, but it might just be enough.

And then, after all that, he nods to the work he's doing on his arm. "Apparently, though, sometimes people come along and say they'd do a better job."

"Everyone a critic," she says, her smile a bit brisk and aimed roughly at his shoulder as she fastens the new bandage in place - more secure, yes, better, if you like. "Most of them wrong. But most of them, also, announcing it in a strongly worded letter that they would have, if they had this, that and the other."

She pats his arm when she's finished--

"Don't worry, I'm sure you still sword very good."

But if she could pull off strolling up and doing that better, too, she absolutely would.

"You've saved my best hacking and slashing arm," Herc replies, so very serious. "Thanks for that, incidentally."

Not that it was a dire, life threatening thing, but he does appreciate the quick stop to the bleeding and the superiority of two-handed bandage work, over his own, and leans back, both arms propped across his knees.

"So," and he exhales, trying to figure out where exactly the conversation should go from here. They seemed to be doing better than the last time. "Max'll be sorry he missed you. Think he's gone run off with Asher's mutt." A beat, of consideration, and he rubs his jaw as his brow furrows a little. Or just with Asher, maybe. Funny bloke, that one, probably not above stealing a man's mabari with how much he loves them. Thank the Maker for imprinting.

"It is my lot in the south to be better regarded by mabari than their masters, I think," she says, a little bit amused by the mention (and absolutely not mentioning the gift she has for Max, all prepared and even wrapped, ready for Wintersend), "though Captain Reynolds would never tease me so."

Out of fear, mainly. Mal Reynolds has a healthy respect for Thevenets elder and younger, and Benevenuta should probably leave the poor man alone.

Herc laughs at that, a rough and quiet thing, leaning back to observe her. "I never said that," comes first, and then, "and I wouldn't have thought the opinion of stinkin' Fereldan's would matter that much, anyway."

Love his country he might, but he's not blind and he's definitely not deaf. And they do maybe have an excessive enthusiasm for brown, leather and dogs, with a distinct lack of delicate pastries that Orlais and Nevarra seem to be so good at.

"I don't tease. That doesn't sound near serious enough, for me." (He said, teasingly.)

and I'm haunted

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