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 there's one thing that tends to draw attention, it's that of a tall (easily a foot taller than most human men) horned woman wielding a glowing blade in the training area. Korrin is going through her usual Knight-Enchanter drills, her every move precise and deliberate as any warrior's. Her blade is hardly typical of one, though, vanishes after every stroke, leaving just the hilt. She can quickly summon it again, though, her pace relentless.

The spirit blade isn't her only weapon, either. Today, it's as much about balancing the use of her staff as it is her typical blade drills. No mage goes inot battle without a staff, of course, and she's no exception to this rule. If anything, she seems to enjoy the challenge of learning how to balance them both.

Over and over, until she no longer has to think about it due to muscle memory. There is such a thing as too much training, though, and Korrin finally allows her glowing blade to fade out one last time, before her sword hand cramps up. Wiping her forehead, she glances around...and realizes she has an audience. That in itself isn't shocking, but she doesn't recognize this particular woman.

"Knight-Enchanter training. I'm still new to it; if you want a real show, Vivienne's the one to seek out."

Combat is something that Ellana only has some experience with, and she gets the feeling that if she's ever caught unawares on her own that she'll be dead before she can call for help. Every battle she's been in so far has had at least one other person there to take the weight of it off her. Mages are mainly ranged fighters; it's the battlemages and knight-enchanters who charge forward. Ellana, meanwhile, gets the sense that she wouldn't even be able to move in armor any heavier than what she already wears, so gearing up and charging forward isn't for her.

So she trains. She knows she's no tactician, and it's something she needs to get better at. Which spells work best for which situations, and how much mana is needed to place protective spells over herself if the enemy draws too near? She's been slacking lately, so now she devote a little time each day to practice.

Today she notices she's being watched and she stops, her wrist rotating her staff to sink the staff blade into the ground. Being that it's a human watching her, she braces herself for a rude comment even as she offers, "Hello."

Even this late at night sleep does not come easy- if it comes at all. Adelaide rouses Roul before she slips out of their room so he and the rest of her students won't be so concerned if they wake and she is still gone. A walk, perhaps, would clear her mind. Through the halls and past the gardens, lingering for a moment over that patch of grass that had been burnt to cinders months ago. What more can be done for it? For any of them?

At the moment, precious little. And thus she continues wandering out to the courtyard, pacing the perimeter in an attempt to exhaust herself before the soft murmurings of something and the telltale click of needles catches her attention. Curious- she follows the sound, peering at one of the newcomers. "It is an odd hour for knitting."

An elf with a tattoo of a tree on her face is sitting at a spinning wheel and spinning. What a shock. She doesn't always have to look at what she's doing, and her proximity to Emma means she's watching her out of the corner of her eye. After a moment, she pauses and looks up.

"You want to ask questions about mages?"

It has been a long few weeks, but Emma can't deny how grateful she is that she hasn't had to face those weeks alone. It hasn't been perfect, she knows that. Mostly because she's a mess, and she knows that too. She can't help but try to hide the worst from her friend, because no matter what Ruby says she doesn't deserve the burden that she knows her curse offers.

She keeps the dark tilt to her thoughts to herself, even if on occasion they escape in whispers. She doesn't talk about how the desire to use her magic is a constant struggle, and how it's often dark magic that calls to her most. The fact she hardly sleeps is something Ruby can't quite miss when she has the hearing of a wolf when Emma slips out every night. Still, having Red with her has helped her immensely, from someone to help scrounge together enough money to have dinner at night or someone else just as lost as she is.

Honestly, having someone she trusts is worth more to her than anything else. Emma is far too used to facing things on her own. The companionship Red gives her keeps her together more than the brunette's desperate attempts to take care of her, which seems ironic when she's immortal at the moment. Having a friend is what makes her feel a little closer to human, when most of the time it's easy to feel like a monster.

She can't be the best company lately, either, yet Red does not seem to let that slow down her antics. And today it has even earned a laugh, Emma shaking her head as the quickfooted brunette jumps from rampart to rampart, despite the fact it is setting Emma's mom senses off like crazy. "I know you think you're cute, but it's freezing and icy and you could fall and break your head open and then what are we going to do?" That's probably the mommest thing she's ever said, and that included the year that all she remembered was being Henry's mother.

Spinning, huh? That makes her think of someone she's not sure she wants to think about, but at least the woman (elf?) behind the wheel looks nothing like Rumpelstiltskin. Emma has seen more than enough of him lately, so clearly it's almost like he's trapped here too. It's a nice reprieve from his scheming face and dark whispers.

She shakes off her distraction — something she has to do a lot lately — stepping a little closer with one last look at the group of mages she'd been watching. "I don't know," which sounds like a dumb answer, but, "I hear that knowing about magic isn't always considered a good thing around here."

It is an odd hour for knitting. It's an odd hour for anything, even though time is harder to keep in a world without clocks. She wishes she had a watch, but even if she'd been a watch-wearing person she lost everything when she'd taken on the dark curse. The courtyard has a bit of lighting here or there, but definitely not a lot, and that makes it harder to see the stitches that she's never been good at in the first place.

The comment takes a moment to sink in, and Emma glances up to find that suddenly she's not quite alone anymore. The woman looks familiar, in a way that's almost uncomfortable before she shakes it off. "When you're me, any hour is apparently an odd one for knitting." She lifts her shoulders in a shrug that shows how very badly the project she's working on is coming out. "It's kind of hard to get to sleep here," and that's kind of true but in the end, not really.

Sometimes you just really need someone to help you smile. After Peter, after everything that came with the wolf, smiling had been the hardest thing, as if happiness were a thing she no longer had a right to. And sometimes she still feels that way, decades and worlds away from the event itself. Those things that change how you see yourself, they work their way into you, and if you let them, they can expand outwards until they drive ravines into you that you haven't got a hope in hell of filling in. Not by yourself, not without someone to help you hold it together. Becoming the Dark One wasn't the same thing as waking up and realising you were the monster in the dark that had killed so many people and tasting the blood of someone you loved on your tongue, but Red figured there wasn't any way something like that could be easier, even if it was different. The Dark One was dreaded for a reason, after all.

But this is Emma, and she'd always be Emma. And if Ruby maybe indulging in that childish side of herself from time to time to try and get a spark of a smile out of her helped? Well, she wasn't going to fight the urge. And she probably would have had fun doing this, anyway.

"I don't think I'm cute," Ruby replies, bright and cheery, turning on the ball of her foot and holding her balance as she faces Emma. The wind is brisk, and its icy, but she's got sharper reflexes than most people would give her credit for. "I know for a fact that I'm cute."

She flashes a grin, the full Ruby Lucas charmer experience on display, before she hops along to the next stone, landing on her opposite foot, and then along to the next. See? She's a natural. "Oh, don't worry. I got my form signed by Granny, so I've got permission to be here. You won't be liable, promise."

If Emma is going to act like a mom, she's going to act like a... obnoxious child. Oh well, close enough.

"Hello," Emma answers back, not so much hostile as awkward. Because it's awkward to be caught staring at someone. Everyone knows it's rude to stare and Emma would probably say something smart if she was the one being stared at. She looks apologetic, and she is. If she's made the woman uncomfortable enough to say something, she probably hasn't been very subtle in the fact she's interested in what she's doing. She momentarily considers making a run for it but probably the only thing more rude than staring at a perfect stranger while they practiced would be running off the second she's caught redhanded.

So she steps a little closer instead, shrugging her shoulders as a finger twines around the tie of her cloak. She's got no necklace to toy with when she's anxious. Heartbreakingly, she can't find Graham's shoelace either. "Sorry. I shouldn't stare. It's just... It's interesting. Watching you work."

It could be interesting even if she didn't have a basis in magic herself. She's only barely started to master the push and pull, the flow and movement required to cast her magic. And the way it's done in this world is incredibly different from what she's accustomed to, though granted, she's not accustomed to much.

It's definitely eyecatching to watch an amazon woman use both a staff and magical blade all at once. Emma herself has a little practice with a sword and a little more with magic but she's never thought to combine the two and has no idea how she'd keep them straight even if she wanted to. She leans against a pillar and fiddles with the overly long hem to her sleeve with rather wide eyes as she watches. She admires the dedication and consistency. She always gets frustrated when she practices and things don't come to her quickly.

When the woman seems to slow, Emma does an admirable job of pretending to pay attention to something else, but the something else is a wall so she is pretty easy to see through. She can't even be surprised when she's called out for watching, she'd been staring quite intently. It'd been incredible to watch.

"Oh, I don't—" know who that is, is the end of that sentence. Emma isn't sure if she can learn the magic of this world and even if she could, she isn't sure she needs any more. "You looked pretty good to me, for what it's worth. I find it hard enough to just swing a sword most of the time." At least she's improved from the messy flailing she used on the dragon... That feels like a pretty long time ago.

Emma rolls her eyes, stepping closer to the rampart wall as she walks alongside Red, the thought being that she can reach out and stop her from falling if it comes down to it. Their walk is away from the warmth of the castle and the courtyard, enough that even a dark one has to hold her cloak a little tighter to protect from the bite of the cold. She doesn't regret it, though, it makes her head feel a little clearer to be out in the cold — and she's paying too much attention to the potential of Red falling to worry about the whisper of darkness in her head.

"That's funny, because I know your granny, and I think she'd say if you want to risk your life, she could just shoot at you with her crossbow and cut out the middle man." Bless Granny's heart, she had a pokerface so ice cold you could almost believe she'd do it.

Emma reached upwards to knot her fingers in the red of brocade cloak as the daredevil next to her risked another jump. A few times Red was lucky, how many could anybody get before they were risking their luck? Emma didn't want to take the chance that she'd have to use magic to save her friend from tumbling however many stories back down to a very rocky landing. Wolf reflexes or not, she would prefer Ruby to have her feet on solid ground now. "Come on, we get enough attention as it is." The guard posted at the end of the battlement was giving them both a pretty ugly eye right about now, though that could be for just the plain fact they were rifters and not because he would be annoyed to clean up the mess if one of them fell over the wall.

Korrin doesn't seem to actually mind the attention; if she really wanted to practice without an audience, there are far more secluded places she could pick instead. Granted, garnering attention not her main goal, but she can take it in stride. The path of the Knight-Enchanter isn't a common one here, and rarity tends to draw interest.

She rests her staff against a tree, flexing her hands before they start cramping up on her. The compliment gets a small grin out of her, as Korrin isn't immune to flattery. "Thanks. It used to be just the staff for the longest time, so balancing that with the spirit blade is a relatively new thing. You'd think with the spirit blade being lighter than a normal sword that it'd be easier, but you're still learning how to dual-wield. A challenge, but I like to think a worthy one."

She moves a little closer for the sake of conversation and that makes how tall her company is even more obvious. Emma is a fairly normal height for a woman in her world, five feet and five inches that she's used to hiking up a little bit with a lifted boot. It means she's a least a head shorter than her present company, maybe a head and a half. She crosses her arms and maintains the same degree of confidence she'd have if things were the other way around, though. A massive amazon woman is impressive, by she doesn't think she needs to be afraid.

"Well if two heads are better than one, two weapons can't be a bad thing." Emma thinks she'd rather focus on one over the other, but she's also not particularly skilled enough in either to be able to multitask. "I can tell you've really been working at it. It shows." Emma is good at practicing when she's good at something. She likes the feeling of doing a spell properly or completing something without being taught. She gives up fast when she's not very good, and immediately when it feels too dangerous to learn. "Do you have to focus on the blade the entire time? Or is it like summoning it and it's there for a bit?" She sounds like maybe she's not completely ignorant to magic and maybe that's true, but she's not likely to openly admit it.

"That's ridiculous," Pel says bluntly. "The more you know, the better, whether you're a mage or no. Fear is our worst enemy, and knowledge fights fear. Now, you can ask me anything you please. I promise not to be offended or say you've asked something silly."

Constantly aware of the size difference between her kind and humans -not to mention even shorter races- Korrin keeps enough distance so that the woman doesn't have to crane her neck too much when they speak. That's more or less the only reason, as she doesn't have a huge personal space bubble. She crosses her arms and n

"I always have to focus on it to summon the blade, every stroke. It's worth it, though. Spirit blades slice though even the toughest hides, putting me toe-to-toe with actual warrior types. It also never breaks and can deflect projectiles if used right, a huge boon when Barrier spells aren't enough."

She lifts her dragon-shaped spirit blade hilt for a better look. "I had to craft this -admittedly with assistance- before I could begin training. A willing spirit is bound to it, that weaves mana into a blade at my command. It's nothing like those rift demons, just a wisp. That's more than enough for this purpose."

"Oh?" she asks, expression shifting a bit. While she knows full well this could be a set up to some comment about how it's interesting an elf can do this or that, she tends to be an optimist, always willing to give the benefit of the doubt. And so her instinct is to be friendly because more elves and humans need to be kind to one another.

"I've been trying to get back in the habit of practicing every day. I know my spells backwards and forwards, it's just that combat is unpredictable."

Taking up her staff, she sets it on her back and walks closer. "I'm Ellana. Nice to meet you."

Technically Ruby could say that she's already been shot by her grandmother, and with a silver-tip crossbow bolt no less. She doesn't say that, though, because this is about being light and happy, and she still hasn't really come clean with Emma about a lot of the circumstances surrounding the Wolf. There's Henry's storybook, but what's that going to have said, exactly, and how much of it had Emma even read and absorbed? Nope, no way. Happy times and silliness, that's what this is about.

"Yeah, well. If you want to be accurate about it then I guess you could go with that."

A glance at Emma, at her hand reaching out, and Ruby raises an eyebrow. Both her feet are on the wall, at least, but she looks back over her shoulder, hands outstretched to each side. "Or I could recreate that scene from Titanic? Or--" And she leans back a little, then, totally in control but definitely a little beyond what's probably reasonable, "I could pretend to lose my balance?"

With a little exaggerated effort to keep her balance, before she straightens up and hops off the wall, landing beside Emma. "But fine, I guess I can behave, instead," she finally concedes with a teasing smile, gently elbowing Emma's side.

"Now, those are the same eyes I get whenever I see someone sticking their bare feet in mud all day long."

Hard to not notice how the rifter studies the soldiers and the miserable form they take. Twisted Fate is far from a warrior himself, but he's seen many different kinds of ways to swing and hold a sword. The newer recruits do, indeed, stick out poorly.

He approaches Emma, tilting his ridiculously fancy at in greeting. "I suppose sword swinging's the same, no matter where you're from, eh?"

"Too much noise and movement?" Too much activity, too much strangeness. Too many demons. The reasons are many but the expression? Familiar. It is one she has seen before and wears herself more often than not on rougher nights. Adelaide walks closer to peer at the knitting- not something she has ever taken in hand before as it bored her- and considers the dropped stitches. "I can be of little help with this, I fear."

A wound to mend, certainly. But a sock to knit? Not something she knows how to do.

The wistful looks aren't missed. But there's not a lot that gets past him.

"Want to take a swing?" Bull makes certain he's a good distance behind her before speaking up, as a courtesy. People tend not to like something as big as a Qunari sneaking up on them, and while he doesn't think she'll spook? Better to err on the side of manners, anyway.

He crooks a grin at her before nodding to the sword rack. "Had your eye on those for a while, now."

That all was pretty impressive. Emma doesn't know that much about normal swords, but she has to guess that a conventional one didn't have all the properties that a magical one apparently had. It was honestly a bit confusing. The magic of Thedas was completely different from what Emma was used to. Still, she can't deny her interest, it's obvious on her face, even, as she peers at the hilt, though she doesn't try to touch it.

"There's a spirit inside the blade?" She's unfortunately heard of souls being trapped in items — Sydney in the mirror, or genies in lamps — willingly is new to her, and smaller spirits are new to her too. "Is it from the Fade?" Emma sounds about as uncertain as she is, because as much as she's trying to understand the magic of this world, there's a lot she doesn't know about it. She asks with full expectation that she'll probably be wrong, or at least not entirely correct.

Sad to say, there's a few parts of this world Emma hasn't caught onto yet. It'll be impossible to be a resident of Thedas long before she catches on to the hatred of Elves, but so far she's been distracted by the hatred of Rifters and individuals with magic. She doesn't think that she might be unexpected company, or that the woman she's talking to might expect the worst of her because that's what she's used to getting. She'll learn soon enough.

"Yeah, you can have strategy memorized but when you have to put it in action it's a hell of a lot harder." It's one of the reasons Emma would rather use her fists than her magic in an altercation, because that's instinct. Sadly, more and more lately her curse overrides her instincts, and not in a positive way. Emma offers a sheepish smile, nodding at the introduction. "Emma. I hope I didn't distract you too much."

"Yeah, something like that." It was true, so many people packed into the hold was definitely a new experience. She lived with her family in a loft with no more than four rooms and even still she wasn't used to the feeling of being in such a populated place. It would have made it harder to sleep, if her curse wasn't so deadset on her never sleeping, ever.

"I don't think anybody can. I'm kind of a lost cause." She drops the yarn, for now, brushing her hair out of her face and trying to take a better look at her company. "I take it I'm not the only one that can't sleep around here. I'm Emma." She doesn't recognize the woman, though considering she'd only been present for a few weeks, there were plenty of people she hadn't personally spoken to yet. Maybe on purpose, considering she was doing her best to keep a low profile.

Emma isn't sure she buys that, especially when it seems like having magic made you a second class citizen in this place. She looks doubtful but she doesn't pick a fight with a stranger, at the very least. She knows that's not going to get her anywhere. "Sounds like you speak from experience. Are you a mage?"

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?"

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

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Insomnia

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courtyard

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