faderift | Our aspirations are wrapped up in books

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Our aspirations are wrapped up in books

WHO: Hermione Granger and Open!
WHAT: There's a new ~~witch~~ mage wandering around Skyhold. Come say hello?
WHEN: Backdated to her arrival near the end of Guardian and onward throughout Drakonis.
WHERE: ~~The library.~~ All over Skyhold. ~~But mostly its library.~~
NOTES: Feel free to run into her pretty much anywhere, or have her run into you. And be prepared for all the questions about your character and Thedas/their homeworld and everything in between.

If not for the fact that Hermione had spent so many of her formative years in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Skyhold might have been overwhelming

As it was, the sprawling fortress was a little hard to get used to, since the academic environment that had given Hogwarts some sense of structure amidst the chaos wasn't present here. There was a library, thankfully, and she spent much of her time there, though it was so small that she was certain she'd end up reading every book in there in two weeks' time if she didn't actually go out and explore the rest of her surroundings.

And so every so often, she pried herself away from the cold little corner she'd set aside for herself and wander the rest of the area, though granted, she more often than not was carrying at least one book with her. Usually it was one of the books that had survived the trip through the Fade; anyone who might spot her in the garden or tavern or a safe distance away from the sparring going on in the training grounds might notice her engrossed in such unfamiliar titles as Hogwarts, A History or occasionally digging through Spellman's Syllabary in the vain hope of finding recognizable runes on various inscriptions throughout Skyhold.

After all, just because she was endlessly fascinated by all the new people and cultures and history and magic, it didn't mean she didn't occasionally need a bittersweet reminder of home. Especially when her other major reminder was her wand, which - despite the fact that she'd taken to finding the most solitary places she could find and practicing with it harder than she ever had the night before an exam - still wasn't behaving properly at all. Apologies to those of you who end up slipping on some wayward ice or getting sprayed with pebbles from a spell gone wrong.

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Korrin doesn't often seek out-of-the way areas, but when she does it's usually with the purpose of reading letters from 'home' and writing back. She has a stack that needs answering, having accumulated since her departure for Emprise du Lion. Now that she's around again, they deserve some decent replies in turn. Hence her picking that abandoned tower not too far from the tavern. Given it's decrepit status, no one seems interested in claiming it and as such its a perfect spot.

The Vashoth mage steps inside...and promptly yelps as she slides on a patch of ice that shouldn't be there. She reaches back for the doorframe but misses and promptly falls on her back, her letters scattering everywhere. There's a hiss of pain, though she can barely manage more with the wind knocked out of her lungs. "Vashedan!"

Mia comes to the garden now and then, when she isn't otherwise occupied bustling around the castle. That does take up a tremendous amount of the day, partially by design, but she's been told more than once that taking a break won't hurt.

And the garden is such a lovely spot for sitting, taking in the sunshine and the smell of flowers, and setting up for a game of chess. Some days she plays herself, for lack of any competition, and other times people invite themselves over to join her. She's just in the midst of moving towards the pavilion to set up such a game when she spots the unfamiliar girl nearby, her nose pressed into a book.

"Good reading?" she murmurs, by way of greeting, before stepping up towards the table already sitting at the ready.

Hermione wasn't the only one looking for a solitary space. Ellana didn't mind others coming across her practicing her lute, but that was because she was switching between the few songs she actually knew rather well by now. There were still a few slip ups that left her flustered, but she decided to move on to something new rather than go over the same few pieces yet again. She'd asked the minstrel in the tavern to write out a simple song for her -- only a few repeated chords -- and now Ellana was looking for a quiet spot to practice this new song. She knew that the ramparts above the barn rarely saw people, and the wind up there would carry away her poorly played notes, so she headed up there, lute strapped to her back.

To her surprise, someone was already there, and holding a strange little stick. Ellana was just about to make her presence known when a load of pebbles came flying at her and she let out a yelp, dropping a glyph under her feet to raise a barrier over herself out of pure instinct. There was a brief moment of panic, born out of the fact that some people just really, really hated elves, but then logic kicked in and she knew that if this person wanted to hurt her, she wouldn't use pebbles.

"What are you trying to do?" she asked tentatively, still unsure if she was unwelcome.

New figures near the Rookery do not go unnoticed. Her scouts keep track of those lurking nearby, and the library was extremely nearby. A young woman, they said, sometimes seen with a stick. Some manner of mage, perhaps, and although one of her scouts had skidded on ice after seeing her working with her exceptionally tiny staff, the act had apparently not appeared to be a malicious one.

Leliana finds herself curious, one day, when she spots the young woman in the Library, and not for the first time that week. She, herself, has a gift be blending and being unseen, but then that is what she was raised to be. Minstrel turned monster, you could say.

Approaching the potential-mage potential-rifter, Leliana takes note of the book she is reading, eyebrow quirked as she stands, posture overly correct and hands behind her back. "That one is a less than reliable account of elven history," Leliana offers, quietly. "Better you speak to the Dalish and to our Arcane Advisor, if you should wish to gain some understanding."

Understanding of the Dalish and the plight of elves is skewed enough, as is. Better to go to those who have lived it, and those who have dedicated so much of their life trying to piece together whatever understanding they can gather.

Ariadne had found the absolute, perfect tree branch. It was high enough off the ground to feel safe, but low enough that she wasn't quite hidden by the leaves of higher branches. It rose at just such an angle that she could tuck herself into the nook where branch met trunk and feel stable, but it wasn't so high that she was uncomfortable straddling it.

It was such a little thing to find. But somehow, it made Ariadne more comfortable than she'd been in months. If she just squeezed her eyes shut the right way, she could almost fool herself into thinking that she was back in the forests of Deleo.

Funny. She'd never really been all that homesick for the forest before. Not while she was living in Valeria, a place full of bustling and energy and life. It was only now, when the possibility of ever going back to her childhood home seemed so remote, that she found that she missed it.

The branch would have to be a good-enough substitute.

And for the moment, it was. She was stretched out and content, absently playing a few notes on her pipes when an unfamiliar scent caught her attention.

Someone new? How exciting!

It's after a long practice session in the training ring that Sam actually notices her, reading on her own off to the side, but still within eye shot from where he was. It was not a typical spot for someone to try and read considering the amount of noise and wind that usually swept through this part of the area. Curious, he makes his way over, loose shirt a bit wet from sweat and water and towel wrapped around his neck.

Upon getting closer Sam tilts his head, unfamiliar with the title of the book. Not that he knew every title, but certainly Hogwarts did not ring a bell. "Afternoon," he greets warmly, trying to grab her attention without startling her.

Josephine is returning from an errand when she notices the stranger. She doesn't get out of her office too often these days, so it is not so unusual to run into more people that she doesn't know. However, Josephine likes to know people, and she hasn't taken the chance to strike up much idle conversation lately.

Mind made up, she begins to make her way over. It is when she draws closer that Josephine realises that this young woman is no mere refugee or soldier, but as a matter of fact, most likely a rifter. She falls into step with the woman, almost shyly before asking, "If you're busy, I'll not disturb you further, but I couldn't help but notice..." Her eyes fall to the books in the woman's hands. "I don't believe I've heard of Hogwarts before."

Emma has done a lot of traveling in the past few years, yet somehow that doesn't make it all that much easier to be plopped into a different magical world. As far as she can tell, there aren't too many connections with this world and the ones she was at least vaguely used to. It wasn't some far adjacent country in the Enchanted Forest. It wasn't some sisterstate of Wonderland. Which meant she had no idea where the hell this 'Thedas' was meant to be, relative with where her family was. It was very unnerving.

It would have been unnerving all on its own. When she's carrying the weight of more dark magic than any person could possibly want? It's even worse. She's usually better at blending, finding her own way into the thread of daily life through sheer survival. It's a hell of a lot harder when she tries so desperately to keep everyone at arm's length — for the safety of everyone, not just herself.

She spends plenty of time wandering around, though. Idle hands and thoughts were a bad combination for her these days. She's definitely not expecting to walk across a sheer patch of ice in the middle of the castle, and there's little grace in her arm windmills to keep her footing. Apparently not even dark ones could look cool when trying not to fall on their ass. She spots someone, a girl, with a stick at the ready, and it takes her a horribly long time to realize what it must be.

"Is that a wand?" The last time she saw a wand, it was when she was using one. The wand of the dark fairy to open a portal to get her and Hook back to Storybrooke. It feels so long ago... her gut clenches at the memory, and she misses him despite herself. No, focus on the present... thoughts like that won't get her anywhere. "I'm guessing the impromptu slip and slide is yours too."

He's got a few books to return that he'd been studying, mostly discourses on how various nations and their mages viewed and worked with spirits. They haven't been helpful in the least. It's little surprise.

What is a surprise is a new face in the library, one he's not run into before. Anders nods to the young woman as he slips books back on the shelves for what may be the last time.

"I think I saw you briefly in Emprise du Lion?" His time had been spent healing those injured by demons, and there'd been a lot of them, so few names and faces had really stood out. "What are you reading?"

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/random horribleness

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