faderift | ( open ) one of these days letters are gonna fall from the sky

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( open ) one of these days letters are gonna fall from the sky

WHO: Lacey Harwood and you!
WHAT: Learning her way around.
WHEN: Through the end of Drakonis.
WHERE: Various locations around Skyhold.
NOTES: None! Come say hi.

Library

One of the first places Lacey goes is the library, once she hears that there is one and finds out where it is. It's occurred to her quickly that she needs to orient herself in this strange place — that she's not yet totally convinced isn't some illusion created by the Capitol, but she should probably play along just to be safe — and since she doesn't yet know whom she can trust enough to talk to, if anyone, she may as well consult a book or two.

Which is where one might find her, starting in on a thick volume that appears to be about the history of the Chantry and looking more and more confused with each passing second. There are a handful of others on various other topics sitting on the table next to her, a couple of which she's already tried to read and found she couldn't; looking at the books' spines, they're in Orlesian and Nevarran. Language barriers aren't really a thing she's ever had occasion to encounter before. Even people in the Capitol with their bizarre accents speak the same language as people in the districts.

This one she can read, but the topic is... not so easily understood. Another thing that doesn't really exist in Panem: organized religion.

Garden

Later, Lacey takes another walk around the fortress and stumbles upon the garden. Even after having been in the Capitol, which isn't short on public parks, seeing dedicated green space is still a bit of a novelty to her, the woman from District 8 who only ever sees green growing things at home when she's looking at the neat lawns in front of the houses in the Victors' Village. This isn't like any of the parks in the Capitol, either; it seems more... wild, somehow. Clearly a space intended for people to be in and tend to, but not so neat and clean and perfectly ordered. If anything, that makes it more interesting, not less.

Careful not to disturb anyone who might be tending to the plants, she steps into the garden quietly to take a look around, pausing near a flowering bush briefly and leaning down to sniff the blossoms.

Battlements

At some point, Lacey climbs up to the battlements, where the air is crisper and colder — though that hardly bothers her; winters in Eight aren't exactly what one would call warm. Aside from a couple of passing guards on patrol, there's no one else up here for now, and she leans her hands on the parapet and just breathes. To say the mountain view is striking is a vast understatement. She can almost, almost believe this is real, that she's not in Panem but instead in some other world entirely.

But she's still waiting. Waiting for Snow or the Gamemakers to shatter the illusion. They've always been told there is nothing else outside of Panem, not anymore. The idea that this is another world entirely is so unbelievable as to be totally absurd.

(The hope, though — that doesn't go away so easily.)

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Now there's an expression that's graced Ellana's face plenty of times as well. Plenty of what she reads in the library has confused her and it's taken time and cross-referencing to work it all out. She doesn't want to be rude and just come up to stare at the woman's book, so she comes to the opposite side of the table and gently clears her throat to announce her presence.

"Not very clear, is it? I find a lot of books here aren't written with a wide audience in mind."

It's about time he took out some more books, really. There's a lot to study, a lot to learn... and a new face among the shelves. Anders is more focused on finding what he's looking for while there, but her growing confusion becomes evident and he looks over.

"...Going for some light reading, I see." The comment is sarcastic, a little wary, a little friendly. Someone who is a fan of the Chantry is not going to exactly be a fan of him, after all. "Do I want to ask why you seem to be researching the Chantry?"

Korrin often comes up to the battlements, for a breath between training or whatever else, and just to enjoy the view. As much as she needs action to thrive, moments of calm have their place as well. It's easier to remember that when faced with the best spot to enjoy the Frostbacks.

Upon seeing someone in her usual area, and someone unfamiliar at that, the Vashoth woman slows down her pace. "You're in my spot." Her tone is friendly, not menacing, and the smile hopefully indicates as much. She's never quite sure how newcomers will react to a very tall, horned woman given that no rifter seems familiar with them. "I'm kidding, by the way. Enjoy."

Lacey startles — but only slightly — and glances up. The woman on the other side of the table is smaller than Lacey is by just a touch, with tattoos the like of which Lacey's never seen before and ears that taper into points. A few of the people who had been there when she'd come through the rift had had them too.

Right now she's just assuming it's a cosmetic alteration, like they do in the Capitol. The idea that there were people of other races here — that there might even be other races at all — hadn't yet crossed her mind.

"It's a little dense," she admits, trying to sound composed and not quite so uncertain and thrown off as she really is. She studies the other woman for a moment, then ventures, "I can't say I'm from around here."

She's not wearing gloves, and the shard in her left hand, while not glowing so intensely as it was when she first arrived, is probably obvious on a moment's inspection.

Edited 2016-03-27 03:31 (UTC)

Fortunately for Anders, Lacey doesn't even recognize him. The sarcasm registers easily, and she arches her eyebrows slightly in a bit of dry humor, though she is otherwise trying to keep her composure. To say she's still somewhat rattled by her unexpected arrival is an understatement, but she's too used to having to seem unruffled and poised to let herself show it.

"Someone mentioned it. It seemed important," she says, aiming for neutrality, for something that doesn't show too much interest. She sets the book down, laying it open on the table. "I suppose I have a lot of catching up to do."

That is certainly a very tall, horned woman, and — Lacey tries not to show how caught off guard she is. She really does. It might not work all that well, though.

It's not so much the horns that take her off guard, though they're an interesting touch of what she assumes is just aesthetics. Nor is it the unusual skin tone. But it's hard not to feel intimidated when approached by someone who more or less towers over you.

She takes a breath, pulling her composure together. "It's quite the view," she says, steadily. "I haven't really seen a mountain range like this before."

The Capitol was in the mountains, but those were never quite this... majestic, there's the word she wants. Something that practically compels you to stop and take notice.

"It's quite the view, isn't it?"

Kain is wandering up here as he does all the time, on one of his usual routes along the battlements. He's dressed in his armor, which is distinctly nothing like that worn by the natives to this world. It's peaceful up here for whenever he needs a break from the usual training and from being around the activity of Skyhold in general. But another huge reason he's a regular up here is that he has a real love for heights. He could stand here forever just enjoying the sensation of the wind in his hair.

Reaching the edge, Korrin crosses her arms and nods as she stares outward at the mountain range. "It's a lot prettier when you don't have to slog through it, that's for damn sure. The Frostbacks tend to lose their charm when that's necessary, though at least it isn't right now. Well, as far as I know."

Whether or not it will remain that way for any length of time is another issue, one which Korrin can't begin to make an accurate guess. She's not one of the advisors, nor does she know their plans for the future.

Ellana likes getting to welcome rifters and help them settle. Part of it has to do with the fact that they don't see an elf and automatically hate them, so she isn't afraid to approach. She nods as her eyes check out Lacey's hand, knowing she must feel so confused by Thedas history.

"Is it something you'd like help with? I can't say I know everything about my world, but I'll tell you what I know."

There's another thing, Lacey notes as the other woman looks at her with curiosity, but no recognition. No one here has recognized her. In Panem, she's a celebrity; all the victors are. The Capitol knows her better than the districts, but even then, with the Games every year it's impossible to avoid the media coverage. And she's always in the Capitol for the Games every year, whether she's mentoring or not, because she makes herself go — and so someone's always talking to her or about her. Maybe not the way they talk about Cashmere, or Enobaria, or Finnick, or the new girl Johanna who so intrigued everyone with last year's unexpected win, but she's not invisible, either.

So the fact that this woman doesn't seem to know her is both confusing and refreshing. She can't quite trust that everything about this isn't all a lie, but... maybe it's okay to talk to someone for a little while, play along and see what happens. Maybe.

"I'm not sure," she says carefully, and lays the book on the table, pages open. "Someone mentioned something about a 'Chantry'. It sounded important."

And then there are the other books stacked on the table next to her, but... may as well focus on one topic at a time.

"'Right now,'" she echoes. "Was it before?"

She's not prying, just asking questions partly to see how this woman takes to them and partly to try to understand the scope of what she's gotten herself into here. Lacey thinks maybe she can let herself sound a little curious, interested, even though that's not normally part of her usual script.

Her posture is straight, but not tense; she's careful to let herself look relaxed, even though she doesn't really feel it.

She notices that, the strange — purple? — armor, so different from what she's seen from the soldiers here. To see anyone dressed in armor who isn't a Peacekeeper is strange to her in the first place, and even Peacekeeper armor looks nothing like any of this.

Maybe this place is as foreign to him as it is to her. It's a bizarrely comforting thought.

"It's certainly something," Lacey says, without really anything in there to convey how she feels about the view except a vague sense of appreciation. Expressing anything like wonder or amazement wouldn't fit with her usual image. Emotions are a thing she has to keep in check, or people will start to talk. She hasn't yet realized no one here would care how she does or doesn't comport herself in public.

She regards him for a moment, steadily, then says, "You're not from here either, are you?"

She could be wrong, of course, and if she is she'll know it in a second, but she doesn't think she is.

Ellana takes a seat across from Lacey and lifts an eyebrow. Well, it seems she's studying the one topic Ellana knows the least about. Even though she's read a great deal since arriving at Skyhold, Ellana has only gotten glimpses of the Chantry through her readings of other topics. And of course she grew up on tales of the horrors of the Exalted Marches the Chantry set out against the elves.

"I'm afraid my education is lacking there. We Dalish elves worship our own gods, not the Maker as the Chantry does. I can tell you some things, but others can give you more. A Chantry sister will talk your ear off, and give you a very biased account. The average Andrastian may be a bit more balanced."

Her eyes drift to the stack of books before back at the woman.

"My name is Ellana, by the way."

Korrin nods, tilting her head up to feel the passing breeze.

"Several times, yes. The Inquisition's trying to restore order, which is a tall order when there are rifts spewing demons everywhere. That's not even touching the Venatori, Red Templars and red lyrium, all of which are significant threats. It's left Emprise du Lion a complete mess, and it's probably worse the further we get away from Inquisition influence."

It's definitely something that Kain is used to... He's a rather obvious rifter what with the draconic armor. He'd heard that some more newcomers had arrived recently, so he's guessing she must be one since he's not seen her before up here. So he nods agreement. It's always worth getting to know others in this similar situation. There was no telling when they might have to be on the same battlefield, one day, after all.

"I am... I've been here for a few months now. It seems like forever sometimes... Did you come with the most recent group of arrivals?"

He looks over the titles, shifting the books so he can see their spines. Other than the Chantry, he doesn't see a theme. It's all over the place. Anders raises an eyebrow as he looks back at her.

"What, the Chantry on the whole?" Rifter, then, likely. It's far too early to tell if she's lucky she's run into him, if this is her area of interest, or entirely unlucky. "If you've questions, I could help, but I can't say I'm unbiased. The Chantry doesn't exactly care for my kind."

It's not a place Rachette finds herself often, but it's...nice. It's green and wildly organized (? if that's a thing?) and calm. Sometimes she could use calm. That, and while she's used to the plant life in general, the wild abundance of the different kinds of plants, sometimes across Thedas, is...amazing. That some of them are used in grenades, and some in potions, and they're tall or fat or many-budded or purple or red or green or sweet smelling or brittle or--

There's just so much she doesn't know. "Pretty sure you could ask one of the sisters what that one's called. Or an herbalist? Or an elf. There's a couple of people that work around the herbs. ...Maybe they could use signs." Which wouldn't help if you couldn't read them, but hey!

The words are unfamiliar to Lacey: Venatori, Red Templars, red lyrium, Emprise du Lion. Nevertheless, she commits them to memory; they seem like something she'll need to know later. Rifts and demons she at least knows from... well, from having arrived here, even though she doesn't exactly understand what they are. And the Inquisition is... all this.

"Restore order." There's a pause. "What does that mean, exactly?"

In Panem, restoring order would involve Peacekeepers cracking down on restiveness in the districts, usually with intimidation or violence. Something about the way this woman talks gives Lacey the feeling that's not what she's talking about, though. Or... that that's not what she intends.

There's no immediate defensiveness in Korrin's demeanor at the question. It's certainly a valid one, all the more so for someone new to this world. "It means a variety of things, from protecting and feeding refugees, to clearing areas of demons and rift-addled wildlife, to wiping out high dragon breeding grounds, to rescuing those that the Red Templars and Venatori captured to work for them, and so on. We try to help the civilians caught in the middle as best we can, while working toward that ultimate goal of stopping Corypheus. Because if he succeeds, then all our other efforts will have been for nothing."

"You are in my light." Zevran murmurs from where he's sitting not far from that very bush of flowers, sketch of the same dabbed with color here and there. Still sorting out how to make the blooms the right shade when a woman steps in and- well.

Habit dictate he dedicate a few moments to altering the image, adding her in with slow sweeps of charcoal. "Though this may have improved things. A happy accident, yes?"

"Your 'kind'?" she asks, coolly, but also sounding most certainly as if she has no idea what he's talking about.

Suffice it to say there's no such thing as magic or mages in Panem.

"Lacey," she answers, feeling decidedly awkward at the fact of having to introduce herself. It's been a long time since she's been in a situation where her conversation partner didn't know who she was.

She has no idea what Dalish elves are, although she is just going to assume they're some sort of group or organization, not... an entire race.

And while organized religion is totally unfamiliar to her — she's still not really gotten the gist of what Ellana's saying — belief in a higher power is at least something she's aware of. In Panem, though, more people are superstitious than outright religious.

"You have your own gods?"

If Ellana can't tell her much about the Chantry, maybe she can tell her about something she's more familiar with instead.

"I must have," she answers. Lacey can't say she's seen anyone else show up here since she arrived, although it's possible she's missed someone. Skyhold seems... well, it's big, and big means easy to lose track of things or people.

"How long have people been... arriving here?"

"Mage. Specifically, mage who believes mages should be free and are people, rather than simply objects to be feared." It's said with calm determination, almost as a challenge. A moment later, he tilts his head and looks back at the books, at all they cover.

"Most people can tell from the robes what I am. And you're taking on quite the scope of research. Are you a rifter?"

"Yes, the Evanuris, or the Creators. Gods and goddesses who shaped the world and helped the elven people in the ancient days, before they were lost to us." Her voice holds a hint of sadness to it. What wonders would the world have now if the Creators weren't locked away?

It really is easy to keep track, so he definitely has to ask, just in case. It’s possible she’d been here and their paths hadn’t crossed. Though it sounds like she perhaps came recently enough.

“It’s getting close to six months that people have been… arriving, coming here through the rifts from other worlds.” Give or take. He can’t believe the time has gone by so fast, he’d have been here for roughly five of those months. “I hope it hasn’t been so terrible, getting used to Skyhold… not to mention the rest of this world.” Some people come from very different worlds, after all.

The almost-challenge in his tone makes Lacey raise her eyebrows at him. She’s… not amazing at analyzing people’s behavior, but she’s had practice at it, had to in order to get by in the Capitol. It’s not as if she said anything to provoke that kind of reaction, so perhaps he’s used to having to defend himself to everyone he meets.

She, on the other hand, doesn’t know enough about “mages” (whatever they are) to disapprove or approve either way. At his question, she draws a breath, then nods. Makes a mental note: people are calling people like her rifters. Awkward, but she supposes it fits.

“I just arrived recently. It seemed a good idea to try to get my bearings.”

Whether or not she’s doing a good job of that is another story.

Considering Lacey’s not trying to put her on the defensive, that’s a good thing. She listens, quietly, to what the other woman says. Feeding refugees, rescuing people, helping civilians.

No one does that in Panem. Half the districts are in poverty and all of them are oppressed by the Capitol — but no one knows how to stand up for themselves, for each other. Fear is a great motivator for getting people to sit down, shut up and do as they’re told. Take tesserae to feed your families, or starve to death. Send your children to the reaping, or be executed for treason. Don’t stand up for your neighbor unless you want to end up tied to the whipping post too.

She doesn’t know who Corypheus is, but the way Korrin talks about him, she can tell he’s someone terrible. “I see,” she says, calmly. Takes a breath, and adds, “It doesn’t sound like an easy task.”

Lacey looks up when she’s addressed, maybe a little too sharply, only to see the man sitting nearby with paper and charcoal in hand. She’d seen him when she had walked in, but hadn’t really thought she’d be getting in his way.

Her shoulders straighten as she shakes off the instant of surprise, hands smoothing her skirt out of habit. “I suppose it might be,” she says, noncommittal, arching her brows. Lacey’s not sure how she feels about the fact that he’s probably drawing her — she can’t see his sketch from here to be sure — but she is, if nothing else, used to being paid attention to. It’s just that that’s usually with cameras and lights, interviews and photographs. Being drawn is a slight novelty.

“I thought I would get to know the fortress a little,” she says, even though she doesn’t think she really needs to explain herself to him. “There’s a lot to see.”

Which probably, and correctly, implies she’s new in town.

Lacey is a little startled to be approached, though it smooths over quickly. It takes her a second to realize the voice came from a short woman — a very short, stocky woman, silver-haired but not elderly. If nothing else, familiar with the Capitol as she is, Lacey isn’t thrown off by the unusual hair color. The height… well, some people are just that small.

She doesn’t quite smile, too practiced at the composed demeanor to do much else. What she does say, after a moment, is, “Maybe.” A beat. “We don’t really have anything like this where I’m from,” with a slight gesture with her shard-marked hand at the garden.

It’s an oversimplification; she’s sure District 11, the agriculture district, is full of gardens and orchards, and there are ornamental gardens in the Capitol. But District 8 is all concrete and glass, factories and warehouses with barely a blade of grass in sight.

Korrin shakes her head, a half-smile forming. "That's a vast understatment. He wiped out our last base of operations with his army and that damn dragon. Don't panic, though, that place was a lot less defensible than the fortress we have now. Which isn't to say we're completely safe, but if he comes here, we'll be able to make a stand that isn't hopeless."

Rachette follows the motion of the hand, but catches on the shard. Oh. That does explain it, then. "Not where I'm from, either." To find common ground, put the Rifter at ease. "Though I guess the plants here must be weirder than wherever you're from," she adds with a shrug, splaying her non-sharded hands. "I'm more used to dirt and stone than...all of this. It's pretty. In its own way."

New, which definitely explains the raised eyebrow, and maybe, just maybe, he's putting it on a little thick for someone who hasn't had a chance to start learning. Especially when if he and Justice can get a handle on their approach they can help matters.

"The Chantry is powerful, and it helps to know about it, but remember that history is written by the victors." He needs to start writing again. He needs something for the Rifters, to prepare them for the world so that they're not brainwashed into fear. It would be a good project, actually.

"Did someone recommend the Chantry to you in particular? I could assist with it. My view is biased, but so is the view of anyone here, and the books are especially so."

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( open ) one of these days letters are gonna fall from the sky

library

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Battlements

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