stop being so defensive i am just trying to hit you with weapons

[cicatrices]

WHO: Cassandra Pentaghast + whoever
WHAT: Anything
WHEN: The third week of Harvestmere (October)
WHERE: Around Skyhold
NOTES: Open to all! Feel free to pull from the top post or start something totally different. I may be slow to respond sometimes as mod work cuts in, and may have to prioritize plot-related threads at some points to make sure I don't hold others up, but hopefully not too much.

Cassandra isn't a difficult woman to find.

Most of her hours are spent training the Inquisition's recruits, often with Cullen or several of the other more senior soldiers, many of whom are greener than the Dales. She demonstrates sword forms, corrects stances, and insists on the importance of shields even though half of them are still using wooden planks with straps on the back because a merchant cancelled a shipment when they heard about Haven and despite the quartermaster's frantic scrounging there aren't nearly enough to go around.

Time to herself is spent in what is already her usual spot, beating the padding off of the dummies near the quartermaster's tower or sparring in the ring, sword flashing in Skyhold's unusually-present sun. She's methodical here, too, each strike fast and strong but also well-placed. She's not a very graceful fighter, motions too jerky and abrupt, but what she lacks in fluidity or creativity she makes up for in power and precision, and it's considered a great feat among the soldiers to have ever come close to getting past the constant guard of her shield, thankfully not one of those lost in their hasty flight into the mountains.

She takes most of her meals in the hall with the rest, even if she usually spends them sitting at a far corner of the table, methodically putting away her food with neither a recruit's grateful hurry nor a noble's dainty manners but a perfunctory low-level annoyance at the necessity of it. Occasionally she'll speak to those around her, particularly if they're other members of the Herald's inner circle, but nothing about her manner invites conversation from strangers.

It's partly intentional-- she's not very good at small talk-- and partly an artifact of her upbringing that has left her bearing both imperious and dangerous even when all she's doing is sticking a fork into a bite of potato. The effect is multiplied when she has what looks to be a letter in hand, brows lowered into a skeptical frown as her eyes scan the page. When they reach the bottom she snorts, and begins folding it back up, uncaring when she accidentally flicks a spot of gravy onto a corner.

Comments

[hugeinorlais]

To say Cassandra Pentaghast was agitated would have been a truly staggering achievement in the art of understatement. Varric had seen her whole Fall Collection of irritated expressions, he was pretty sure he'd inspired a few of the more vehement ones all by himself, and this one was a prize. This particular shade of aggravated gesturing was on the farther end of the Cassandra Pentaghast spectrum of anger and, frankly, a little too close to murderous for his liking.

This made, what, twice now that she'd actually shouted at him while leveling a blade in his direction?

Maker, he certainly hoped he wasn't forgetting an instance. The day he could forget being threatened, by her, at swordpoint was the day his life had officially become far too interesting for his own good.

"Hey now," Varric replied calmly and slowly, as one does when addressing an irate woman with a particularly large knife. Fortunately even Varric couldn't actually patronize the Seeker, no matter how hard he tried. He held up his hands in a gesture that was torn between 'gently placating' and 'about to be frisked by the city guard'. "Would I do a thing like that? I'm practically made out of team spirit."

For a given value of 'team' and 'spirit'.

"I'm Mr. Morale," Varric added and paused. It was a terrible idea to egg her on, absolutely dreadful, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. No one had ever accused him of making solid life choices. "But you know, and this is a crazy idea, if you're going for positive morale it might be a good idea to really emphasize the not stabbing other members of the Inquisition part."

His charming smile was still charming.

"Shit, you could even set up a reward system. Gold stars for everyone who didn't stab somebody today? It could really catch on."