[ Contrary to the impression he might have given by asking the entire Inquisition via crystal if any of them were possessed, Kostos does have a discreet bone in his body. Several, actually. He just only uses them when they're necessary—and in this case they are, since Colin specified discreet.
The first step: not using a crystal to try to contact someone with only one name for the first time. There may be another Colin somewhere.
The second: waiting until the young man's shop is otherwise deserted to approach it. ]
You needed help with spirit magic.
[ ... Hi. ]
The first step: not using a crystal to try to contact someone with only one name for the first time. There may be another Colin somewhere.
The second: waiting until the young man's shop is otherwise deserted to approach it. ]
You needed help with spirit magic.
[ ... Hi. ]
( Colin the shopkeep, a man who receives dramatic visitors who wear a lot of black. Herian waits until he is free, the shop quiet save for himself, and then steps from the shadows where she was (politely, not ominously) waiting. )
Good day. Are you Colin, who spoke on the crystals of Darktown?
( She doesn't mean to be dramatic, it just kind of happens. )
Good day. Are you Colin, who spoke on the crystals of Darktown?
( She doesn't mean to be dramatic, it just kind of happens. )
[ Gentler people could deliver the news, and even Kostos could deliver it more gently, but— ]
Can you take care of his cat?
[ —is what Colin gets, out of nowhere, when Kostos finds him in the infirmary. In his defense, he hasn’t slept in a while, and he looks it, in last week’s clothes and several more days of scruff than he usually allows. He also looks like he’s lost someone, but that’s a look—set jaw, moments when his gaze drifts to the floor and goes unfocused—that’s harder to place. ]
Can you take care of his cat?
[ —is what Colin gets, out of nowhere, when Kostos finds him in the infirmary. In his defense, he hasn’t slept in a while, and he looks it, in last week’s clothes and several more days of scruff than he usually allows. He also looks like he’s lost someone, but that’s a look—set jaw, moments when his gaze drifts to the floor and goes unfocused—that’s harder to place. ]
It's chill outside now, which means they're bundled in several blankets on the chaise out on the covered balcony (with one extra because Alexandrie has, to her slight chagrin, gotten used to the greater warmth that Loki prefers). It is a common enough lounge these days, Colin's head tucked at her shoulder, her cheek resting against the top of his head, one arm slung lazily around his shoulders as she absently strokes fingers through his hair, the other resting against his where it's draped across her chest.
Although it is no less affectionate than usual, she seems preoccupied today.
Although it is no less affectionate than usual, she seems preoccupied today.
[ When Colin wakes, he'll find that he's been ordered on a short day's mission along the Minanter river to collect ingredients for the Inquisition stores. The directions are beautifully calligraphed in a terribly mysterious hand, but seem to be legitimate. When he prepares to depart, a stranger (terrible, mysterious) may already be waiting.
An elegant hart previously unknown to the Gallows (mysterious, etc) will be provided. There’s only one, so they’ll need to share. The map takes an unusually long and scenic route for what would otherwise be a very short journey — they really aren’t going that far from Kirkwall — and on closer inspection, most of the ingredients seem to be a fish recipe. A selection of more esoteric spices have been included in their packs at no small cost, and upon closer inspection the hart’s blanket is sumptuous. If either included their own rations, they’ve been removed from their bags when they weren’t looking.
There are also no pans, pots, or utensils. Good luck.
OOC Note: Finel is played by H. Feel free to play out a thread, handwave things, or ignore it entirely, but check with each other first! ❤ ]
An elegant hart previously unknown to the Gallows (mysterious, etc) will be provided. There’s only one, so they’ll need to share. The map takes an unusually long and scenic route for what would otherwise be a very short journey — they really aren’t going that far from Kirkwall — and on closer inspection, most of the ingredients seem to be a fish recipe. A selection of more esoteric spices have been included in their packs at no small cost, and upon closer inspection the hart’s blanket is sumptuous. If either included their own rations, they’ve been removed from their bags when they weren’t looking.
There are also no pans, pots, or utensils. Good luck.
OOC Note: Finel is played by H. Feel free to play out a thread, handwave things, or ignore it entirely, but check with each other first! ❤ ]
Edited 2019-02-13 06:28 (UTC)
He seeks out Colin the day after he's gotten back, eventually finding the young man at the apothecary. For a few minutes Anders just hangs back, watching. There's no real cause for pride, Anders didn't really teach him that much about this, just the healing, but he's proud nonetheless and he can finally be honest with himself about the root of that pride.
"Do you have a minute?"
"Do you have a minute?"
There's a stranger in the apothecary. He saunters in, his large frame blocking the light in the doorway for a moment as his eyes cast around to eventually land on the person behind the desk.
"You, erm..." he says, lifting one hand to point awkwardly at the merchant, "...this is yours?" He's smiling, at least.
"You, erm..." he says, lifting one hand to point awkwardly at the merchant, "...this is yours?" He's smiling, at least.
It's gotten late, the sky is dark and the dungeon is too, but light from the torches and what little he can see filtering through the tiny window is is enough that Benedict isn't drowning in blackness. Or... at least not visibly.
It's not out of cruelty that he's in the same cell as he was years ago: it's the one they keep up the most, rotating people through, changing the straw, but he knows it by the now-faded charcoal drawings hidden here and there, where they were shielded by an outcrop of stone or the bed from the water of a washbucket.
Benedict is sitting with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest, still wearing the too-large clothes provided by Leander in addition to the beaten-up shoes that took him to Tevinter and back. He's shivering lightly from the chill and fear but otherwise perfectly still, his gaze fixed forward, expressionless.
It's not out of cruelty that he's in the same cell as he was years ago: it's the one they keep up the most, rotating people through, changing the straw, but he knows it by the now-faded charcoal drawings hidden here and there, where they were shielded by an outcrop of stone or the bed from the water of a washbucket.
Benedict is sitting with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest, still wearing the too-large clothes provided by Leander in addition to the beaten-up shoes that took him to Tevinter and back. He's shivering lightly from the chill and fear but otherwise perfectly still, his gaze fixed forward, expressionless.
It's the day after her very productive therapy session with Benedict that she finds Colin again. On his way to or from somewhere to do something, surely. She falls in step alongside him coolly and matches his stride until he notices she's there.
[ She approaches very calmly and steadily, fingers interlaced. It's not to keep herself from fidgeting, of course. It's just a very normal, calm, unremarkable posture for an unremarkable visit from a friend. ]
Colin, I don't want to alarm you, but...the walnut is gone.
Colin, I don't want to alarm you, but...the walnut is gone.
Do you cut your own hair? [ An idle question, while she has her fingers threaded through it. Even though Laura no longer needs lessons in plaiting, Athessa has kept up braiding the hair of whomsoever allows it.
Kind of seems strange that the habit didn't start with Colin, considering how easily broached the topic was with him. That is, she didn't broach any topic, she just started to braid his hair on one of those nights when they needed a warm fire and soft company, but it actually started with Deimos.
If anyone is the polar opposite of Colin, it'd be him, wouldn't it? Rough company juxtaposed against soft? Anyway, back to this seven-strand braid she's working on... ]
I was thinking about cutting mine, maybe.
Kind of seems strange that the habit didn't start with Colin, considering how easily broached the topic was with him. That is, she didn't broach any topic, she just started to braid his hair on one of those nights when they needed a warm fire and soft company, but it actually started with Deimos.
If anyone is the polar opposite of Colin, it'd be him, wouldn't it? Rough company juxtaposed against soft? Anyway, back to this seven-strand braid she's working on... ]
I was thinking about cutting mine, maybe.
It's not all that long after Byerly's crystal announcement asking for more members of diplomacy, but Colin has no real reason to make the correlation when Benedict appears in the doorway of the infirmary, slightly out of breath, wild-eyed, and holding a packet of coffee.
"COLIN," he exclaims, and holds it up, "HOW... DO YOU MAKE COFFEE."
"COLIN," he exclaims, and holds it up, "HOW... DO YOU MAKE COFFEE."
Colin—it's Leander. Might I have a moment of your time?
Alexandrie is not often at the apartments anymore, save to gather canvas and easel and paint when the day is fine. A bright quickly moving thing, all smiles and laughter and jests and kisses when her comings and goings intersect with Colin's.
Today, however, she is sitting on the balcony when Colin comes home; back straight and tall, still but for the tugging of the sea breeze at the few ringlets hanging free from the careful upsweep of her hair.
Today, however, she is sitting on the balcony when Colin comes home; back straight and tall, still but for the tugging of the sea breeze at the few ringlets hanging free from the careful upsweep of her hair.
[ She does knock on the door of his apartment before she makes herself known in other, more silly ways, so nobody can say she didn't do the common courtesy.
But then she presses her face between the door and the jamb as if that'll facilitate talking through the door better. ]
Colinnnnnnnnn! Colinnnnnn, [ in a spooky ghost voice, ] I'm here to haunt you, Colinnnnnn!
But then she presses her face between the door and the jamb as if that'll facilitate talking through the door better. ]
Colinnnnnnnnn! Colinnnnnn, [ in a spooky ghost voice, ] I'm here to haunt you, Colinnnnnn!
[ As always, the walk from Lowtown after curfew requires some nimble navigation of the streets and alleyways, avoiding the Guardsmen she knows to be particularly strict.
And as always, she makes it to Colin's apartments in Hightown without incident (if you ignore that mess with Byerly). Rather than smushing her face between the door and jamb or climbing onto the balcony or any of her other unorthodox ways of announcing herself, she just knocks. Like a normal person. Knock, knock. ]
And as always, she makes it to Colin's apartments in Hightown without incident (if you ignore that mess with Byerly). Rather than smushing her face between the door and jamb or climbing onto the balcony or any of her other unorthodox ways of announcing herself, she just knocks. Like a normal person. Knock, knock. ]
Edited (subject line ig) 2020-09-10 20:28 (UTC)
[ Sunlight spills in through the window to stretch out and bask on the floorboards like a lazy cat.
The light bounces around the room and gives it a gentle glow, so unlike the Gallows that Athessa can really see the appeal of living on the mainland. Maybe someday. For now, she feels the warmth of sunlight on her eyelids and pulls the blanket up as far as it'll go to block it out. In doing so she draws the edge of the blanket across Colin's nose.
She has curled up against him in her sleep, face smushed against his shoulder and a leg draped over his. And of course, her hair is a mess. ]
The light bounces around the room and gives it a gentle glow, so unlike the Gallows that Athessa can really see the appeal of living on the mainland. Maybe someday. For now, she feels the warmth of sunlight on her eyelids and pulls the blanket up as far as it'll go to block it out. In doing so she draws the edge of the blanket across Colin's nose.
She has curled up against him in her sleep, face smushed against his shoulder and a leg draped over his. And of course, her hair is a mess. ]
If the bright singsong “Bonjour, mon cher!” is to believed, this visit to the apartments is a great deal more pleasant than Alexandrie’s last.
“Es-tu ici?“ It’s called entirely for show; she knows he’s there, she’d asked when the door was opened for her. “I have a present for you.”
“Es-tu ici?“ It’s called entirely for show; she knows he’s there, she’d asked when the door was opened for her. “I have a present for you.”
"Colin,"
comes the whine from the door, and Benedict shuffles in, holding all his limbs apart from his body, bruises beginning to form on the visible skin of his neck and face.
"I'm dying."
comes the whine from the door, and Benedict shuffles in, holding all his limbs apart from his body, bruises beginning to form on the visible skin of his neck and face.
"I'm dying."
[They're in the hookah room, though it isn't burning presently; it's just an escape from the group quarters that isn't as far away as Colin's apartment, a good place to lounge around and eat some post-dinner snacks while winding down before bed.
Benedict is lounging expertly, stretched out like a lazy cat over several pillows, his shirt half-laced as he looks down into it. He's poking his belly, or lack thereof, and seems pleased by the results.]
Benedict is lounging expertly, stretched out like a lazy cat over several pillows, his shirt half-laced as he looks down into it. He's poking his belly, or lack thereof, and seems pleased by the results.]
[ Sawbones doesn't know what time it is when she finally gets back to the gallows. She is not a mess. Physically. All right, she's a little bit of a mess, but she's clean at least. Wild eyed and rumpled and radiating an air of manic irritation.
She finds Colin and points to the kettle in his hands. ]
Gimme a cup.
She finds Colin and points to the kettle in his hands. ]
Gimme a cup.
Page 1 of 2