faderift | ( OPEN ) blending about as well as somebody wearing the glasses with a fake nose attached

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( OPEN ) blending about as well as somebody wearing the glasses with a fake nose attached

WHO: Emma Swan and PLEASE YOU don't leave me on my own
WHAT: Emma trying to make sense of the new place she's flumped in
WHEN: backdated-ish towards closer to her arrival thru now?
WHERE: Gettin all cozy in Emprise/Skyhold I believe
NOTES: Nothing dramatic yet. at least I don't think so. tba.

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It's at least a little bit ironic that she's more powerful than she's ever been and she still doesn't have much of anything. Being a rifter apparently rewards her no incentives, which is not surprising really but at least a little discouraging. She's been stuck close to a few weeks now and she's no closer to finding a way out, and no closer to finding a steady source of income, either.

She works little ends and odds here, yet she's not a great worker. When she can focus, she's quite dilligent and determined. It's focusing that is the hard part. Jobs that get more complicated than a monotonous repeated task tend to get scattered quickly. And it's safe to say not all residents of Skyhold trust a rifter to do even the most menial of tasks. She's lucky to put together enough coin to get some food for her and Ruby on occasion, she certainly doesn't have enough money to buy something to arm herself.

She can't actually be hurt, yet the lack of an ability to defend herself when she can't use her magic makes her very nervous.

So occasionally when the soldiers are out training, or weapons are out for polishing and display in the courtyard, Emma is there to look wistfully at what she can't have yet. Oh she could steal one, it's just that would be awful stupid when she still sleeps and is forced to exist here for the time being. So for now she just watches... and occasionally she'll point out sloppy form if she spots it. Hey, she isn't a master at a sword but apparently being the daughter of Prince Charming has taught her something in the past two years. And she knows poor form if she sees it. (That sounds a bit more like her pirate boyfriend than her father, though, doesn't it?)

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Something she didn't know about until it was far too late? Dark Ones don't require a lot of sleep. There's only so much time she can pretend to be sleeping for Ruby's sake. When that gets to be too much, Emma generally wanders around the open areas of the fortress, trying to keep to herself and keep fairly quiet at that.

She seems to like the courtyard best, and is often found doing something with her hands. Braiding straw or even something she never dreamed she'd get into — knitting. Hey, the place is freezing and she's ... okay she's not good. If anyone wants some lumpy socks, though, she's your lady. She's game for other tasks to distract her, too, even if they end up mundane like sweeping or other chores.

It's possible one might catch her talking to herself. Under her breath, barely a whisper, enough that it can be forgotten as a trick of the fortress that barely sleeps more than she does. You'd have to get pretty close to understand what she's saying, and that's probably for the best. Chances are you don't want to know.

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The last thing one would think Emma would be interested in is more magic. She's got plenty, thanks, and not a whole lot of places for it to go. Not to mention the fact she has magic seems more like a strike against her than a positive quality in this place, though to be fair, when has magic ever felt like a gift over a curse? She tries her best not to use magic, no matter the situation, just to protect herself...

Yet she still can't quite keep her nose out of it all the same.

The magic of this world is very interesting to her, and it's often she'll watch mages at work, though if they ask her to buzz off she will. They use techniques completely foreign to the ones she's started to understand back home. Emma is intensely interested in how mages control their abilities, quietly hoping that she can learn something from them.

She hasn't gone as far as asking questions, yet... but the way she lingers and watches has to be at least a little bit creepy, especially if the poor mage in question has no damn idea who she is.

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hit me up with whatever you like! Emma roams the castle a lot, and probably is distracted and weird while doing so. hit me up at goplayzelda if you wanna chat magic stuff!

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If Emma had any idea, she would probably be mortified by her joke. She doesn't know that much about Ruby's past, though, besides the fact she and her mother were close and that she was both the wolf and the girl with a red hood from the story. Emma didn't know a lot of what happened in the Enchanted Forest, and usually what she did learn about she finds she would have been better off not knowing after all. If there's a part of her history Red wants her to know, Emma thinks she'll tell her. Who would have guessed Granny had actually shot her once, though?

Emma does obligingly put her other hand on Red's waist, even though she's down too far for it to be a proper reenactment. "I don't know if you didn't notice, but I'm no DiCaprio." The guard probably thought the two of them were crazy, but at least so far he hadn't come over to order them to go back to the courtyard. As Red hops down to join her Emma adds, "And Kate had red hair, not a red cape."

The blonde does seem at least slightly relieved to have her friend on steady ground again. Apparently not even wolf instincts are enough for her not to worry, at least a little. "I'm glad that you managed to find it in you to not give me a heart attack," Emma noted dryling, tightening her arms around herself to try and fight back the chill of the wind. Up on the ramparts it was easy for the wind to cut through every inch of meagre fabric she had, leaving even a dark one a little cold. "I'm surprised Titanic even made it to Storybrooke. What other 90s movies did you get?"

"No?" Ruby is aghast! Except for, you know, that ridiculous grin of hers. "This could be, I don't know. A retelling. A retelling of a film adaptation of a historical event including two woman from a book of fairy tales..." Ruby trails off, eyebrows raised. "I don't know, but that sounds like we should get an award."

True facts about Ruby Lucas, she actually spends a lot of time reading, whenever she's not working. Other true facts: she doesn't actually have much of a life. But Ruby had been more interested in movies than Red, at least, and so she takes a moment to mull that over. "I'm pretty sure we had Steel Magnolias and The Land Before Time... actually, I'm not sure if those are even from the Nineties."

She'd go look it up if they weren't so very very stranded. Maybe Emma'll just have to take her word for it. "Any story that was depressing would probably have managed to fight its way through the Curse. No happy endings, right?" Maybe it just depends on your interpretation, of course. Some could consider Clueless a tragedy, if they were committed enough.

Gently knocking Emma with her shoulder, Ruby nods towards a cart in the courtyard below. "Come on. You look cold."

"I think I'd feel bad about getting an award for Leo's work before he did." Poor bastard, when was he ever going to get that Oscar? Well, from where she was currently, Leonardo could get the critical acclaim he'd been dying for and she'd never know. There's a lot she misses more than award shows she barely even watched, but it's just another reminder she's not where she wants to be.

"Honestly, I don't remember either." Most of Emma's experience with movies in the eighties had been from watching them in her late twenties. It was not like a kid in foster care was often found watching new releases just as they came out. Chances hadn't been that much better for a homeless teenager, or a recently released convict. It doesn't matter to much what Storybrooke had once, since not only were they past the 80s now, they were also not in Storybrooke. It was just nice to reminisce a little bit about the place she missed so much, and a little less painful than thinking about the people. "If you think about it, every 80s movie is tragic in their own way." Apparently Emma could swing most of that decade through curse limitations through sheer force of will.

As for being cold, she could argue. She's a dark one, she couldn't freeze even if she wanted to. She'll survive a little longer up here, out in the wind. She relents before the fight, though. She's more concerned about the company, not the location. "I'm fine, Mom. I guess we're taking turns with this." And in both situations, it's ironic, because neither of them really need to be mothered.

Certainly not at the 2016 Academy Awards, that's for sure. That'd imply he had a shot at a happy ending, after all.

"But that's the way the world usually works," Ruby replies, just a little too bright, as if this were not a real and pressing issue. In any case, it's easier to sass along with Emma, than to really start to analyse their lives or situation. "For the hair, if nothing else," she agrees instead, gently nudging Emma.

As it is, she's just fine with Emma thinking she's being over the top or too protective. The main thing? The main thing, really, is Emma knowing that someone has her back, even if they are kind of a pain about it. Caring is caring. She got pretty steamed about Granny from time to time, but she always knew she cared, no matter how mad she was.

"Maybe," Ruby agrees, easily and happy. "But since I'm always right, at least my turns will be just fine, right?"

Let her gently steer Emma towards the stairs and down them. Just gently and quietly, before Emma can object, or maybe despite them. Ruby and Granny are both kind of good at the being a bulldozer in human form branch of 'life skills.'

"I think you have to actually go through labor to get the always right mom perk." Emma is just geared toward arguing when it comes down to it. She's gone so long not having someone care about her that even now, years after being surrounded by family that did, sometimes she struggles with accepting it. She sees what Red is trying to do and that means a lot to her. She's getting a little better at people trying to help her, at least — though where Red helps her the most has nothing to do with keeping her out of the cold or trying to make sure she has a meal every night.

Emma sighs as she's elbowed toward the steps. She likes being out of the busy rush of the courtyard, but maybe it's better to keep her somewhere where her thoughts can't run away with her. "I helped out in the kitchen, earlier, they promised me a free plate tonight." A hot meal wasn't much of a gift, but Emma wanted to help Ruby as much as Ruby wanted to help her.

Emma earns a sidelong look and a look of aw, come on, for that. "Now you're just making up rules to exclude me. I'm pretty sure that's not fair. In fact, I think being unfair might mean you lose your 'always right' privileges."

So there. Never mind that Emma's assessment is totally fair, actually, because when is being ridiculous so very terrible?

That Emma is helping out gets a smile out of Ruby. Not because of the food, although that is a plus. More just that Emma is doing things, being active, being involved. That seems more like Emma, the woman she knew who just couldn't quite help getting involved in Storybrooke, despite herself. It's good to know some things stay the same.

"That's great. Can you con them into making lasagne?" A gentle tease, and Ruby loops her arm with Emma's as they descend the stairs. "I heard someone saying they have pasta and everything in Antiva, actually. Maybe lasagne is a thing here, after all."

From where they stand she spies a cart selling some bits and pieces, but makes no rush to it just yet. Slowly down the stairs seems like a good safety rule, even if she know, she knows being so cautious with Emma will probably drive her nuts. She can't quite help it. She's as guilty of smothering as her grandmother.

"No way, the life of a mom is predicated on being as unfair as possible." Thankfully, Henry never really balked too hard at her mothering, though there were moments. Like when he'd slipped his father to go blow up magic, or... you know, all the times she'd helped him ignore Regina's mothering to run around for Operation Cobra. Still, sometimes to be a mother it meant you had to make 'unfair' choices. Unfair to the person that didn't want the protection you were trying to lay in place, anyway.

Emma is helping, the best she can. Granted, she's not great at it. She's ribbed hard for not being a dedicated worker, yet it's hard to focus when there are voices that aren't her own in her head. Hisses that she use magic, that'd it be easier, faster — and those are the nicest of the whispers she spends so much time ignoring. It's not the kind of work Emma is suited for, or particularly wants to do. It's at least less dangerous than the alternative, though.

"Maybe not lasagna, but something more simple maybe." Thank god they didn't need to worry about changing things here, as far as Emma was aware, it was not the past of this world. She wasn't going to ruin their lives by teaching the cooks about chicken dumpling soup. Hell that would probably make it better! Next lesson: Handwashing 101.

Emma lets her hand settle on the arm of her friend and takes the stairs slowly, and honestly she doesn't think it's so much for safety as it is for the fact the savior does not find such exercises easy in a corset. Despite her faces and grumbles, though, she looks the part better than one would expect. She would rather not have to wear the same dress and ratty cloak that she arrived in every day, they just don't have much options until they are a little more established. It's hard not to admire the pretty things floating around but there's no chance in hell Emma would spend their short stipend on looking pretty.

"Huh." Just letting that hang in the air for a moment, Red carefully considers this insight. Interesting. "Being a mom kinda sounds like a means to just getting your way the whole time." Casually accusing, glancing at Emma like this was new information, like it's going to make her re-assess their entire friendship.

And the whole juggling a bunch of head voices thing is something to be proud of. Ruby found it difficult enough to spend a lot of time in the kitchen with just Granny to contend with, though it kind of goes without saying that it's a comparison not worth making, even in jest. The situation is precarious, and even with what little Ruby understands about it, she wants to make it better. Never worse. (She does have kind of a habit of screwing things up, but there's always hope for change - right?)

"You're right. Maybe pizza." God, but she misses simple junk food sometimes. She'd probably fight a man for Ben and Jerry's, right now. Or, not, but that's not the point.

When they finally make it to the bottom steps, Ruby hops down the last couple and beams back at Emma, before pointing to a cart with all manner of clothes. "I think you're due for an upgrade."

"At least with your kid, sure. As long as yours isn't the kind that decides he needs to blow up magic or save all of Neverland on his own." Okay, so mom rules weren't particularly peerless, yet Emma was going to take advantage of them anyway if people were going to let her. That mention does make her smile taint a little toward sadness; she can't help it. She misses Henry like she misses a part of herself. He's like a color that's been stolen from her spectrum and the world just isn't the same without it.

"Pizza I might be able to do." That's just bread dough with tomato sauce and cheese on top. They could kick off a whole new trend in the fortress, she is pretty sure nobody has ever regretted learning about pizza. Okay, maybe in the sense of their waistline. Surely not in the sense of taste.

When they make it to the bottom of the steps, Emma sighs a bit reluctantly to be back already. Cold as it was up above, it wasn't quite as smothering as the courtyard. It's easy to forget her disappointment with what Red mentions next, and Emma (quite literally) digs her heels in. "No, I don't think so. I'm fine with what I've got." They don't have money for extra duds, and as much as she dislikes wearing the same dress daily, she's not going to spend the few coins they've accumulated on something she doesn't need.

Ruby can't help a little chuckle, at that. "Henry's one of a kind, for sure. How many people could help figure out a curse all on their own?" It wasn't that simple, sure, never was, but he was still a hell of a kid. They owed everything to him, really. She nudges Emma gently, catching sight of that sadness. "Wonder where he gets that."

Not wondering at all, though. Emma's pretty amazing, too. Ruby thmemoruought so, and Red agrees. Pizza is sadly abandoned, though, as Emma tries to dig in her heels. Red just unhooks their arms and keeps walking without Emma, looking over her shoulder towards her. "I've been pulling some extra work at the tavern. Trust me, this is worth it."

Her attention is immediately drawn to a cloak that tugs at her memory. Not identical, but familiar enough to tug her mouth into a smile, pale and embroidered with flowers and leaves, and she asks the woman minding the stall if she can look at it more closely.

"He's something, all right." Emma manages a smile, proud as well as sad, at that. The little kid that pushed her through Operation Cobra has grown up a lot since then. He'd managed to save all over them from the Author's rewrite, too — he wasn't a little kid anymore, that was for certain, but that doesn't make it any easier for her to be so far away from him. How much is she missing, being separated from him for so long?

Emma can't see how it is worth it. She's invincible, basically, how can wasting money on a cloak the right thing to do when it is at such a premium for both of them? She sighs as Red skips past her, anyway, determined to do as she pleased whether Emma asked for it or not.

She makes her way next to her, impressed by the cloak almost despite herself as the peddler spreads it in front of them. The outside is far more delicate than the soft velvet on the inside. It does look cozy, even with the sweet roses decorating the pale fabric. "It's pretty," she notes begrudgingly, "But I don't need it, Red."

Waiting a moment before speaking, Red glances at Emma and reminds herself to pick up some stuff at the tavern, later. Maybe bribe the kitchen, if she can figure out a way. "I miss him, too," she replies, very quietly. Nothing like how Emma must, but Henry was... he was Henry. It was weird to get used to life without him.

The people that matter always stay with you, right? Something like that.

"Maybe not," Red concedes, holding the cloak up at shoulder height, a clear invitation to try it on. "But need isn't always the thing you should think about." A moment of hesitation before she rambles on, chewing her lip a moment in deliberation before he pushes on. "It reminds me of one Snow had, when we first met. It's not as good as having her actual cloak but this one's probably in a better state to be worn. We don't have photos, but we can still have something to remind us of the people important to us, right?"

And then her mouth quirks into a teasing smile. "And I'm pretty sure your mom'd tell you to wear a cloak, no matter how tough you are. I hear mom rules are kinda important, huh?"

Emma can't quite work up a response to missing Henry. She does, of course she does, yet a part of her tries to avoid admitting it out loud. Like that would make that claw slicing through her heart every day she's away from her son a little less painful. It doesn't, really, yet maybe it makes that pain a little less present. Tucked away and hidden in her heart where it festers like poison, instead of worn on her face and pulling down her attempts to find a way back to him.

The idea it looks like something her mother had worn once clearly hits Emma soundly. Even when things are still a bit strained between her and Mary Margaret, Emma loves her desperately. Wants to make her proud. And, yes, wants to have things in her life that remind her of her mother.

"Really?" she murmurs, clearly conflicted in a way she wasn't before. She sighs, trying to fight up the willpower to be strong and responsible, and failing. "I've got a few coins. You're not going to just buy it for me." They'd probably have to split it, that was the most compromise that Red was likely to get.

"That works for me," Ruby replies, a little more brightly than she truly feels. Family feelings are never easy feelings, in her experience, but there were sayings about blood running thick for a reason. (When she was a kid she might have thought that it was because it made wading through it for an escape that much harder, but she's accepted she was sometimes kind of a brat.)

"We'll take it," she tells the merchant, grabbing the leather pouch with her coins and shelling them out. Careful, though - she almost keeps going until she's covered all of it, although she does sheepishly glance at Emma, acknowledging the impending interruption. "Next time we'll get you some fancy boots, maybe?"

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( OPEN ) blending about as well as somebody wearing the glasses with a fake nose attached

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