[ action | open ] I'm a veteran of things I don't want to be

[inquisitor_lavellan]

(Note: I default to prose, but I'll follow your lead if you bracketpose at me! )

[ A ]

It was daylight hours in the large Garden Park in Genessia City. People were out doing park things; playing catch, reading books, painting...

THUNK!

Except, over in this corner of the park, a heavy wooden training dummy had been erected. Its torso was a chunk of a log from a tree, and it even had a head and arms, with a crude sword and shield attached. The stake that was its bottom half -- just the sharpened end of the log! -- had been driven deep into the ground with considerable force.

And there was an elf in full armor, attacking it with a mace that crackled with some sort of red energy.

CRACK!

That... that dummy probably wouldn't stay intact for long.


[ B ]

The problem with setting up a whole new garden every time she woke up in this world was, honestly, all the damn supplies. Bagged soil always looked like it would fill more containers more thoroughly than it actually did, and trellises seemed to fall apart if a stiff enough wind hit them hard enough from the wrong angle while her plants were still small and weak.

So here Alleyana was in a gardening store, again, staring a bit sourly up at a huge bag of potting soil on a shelf while she tried to picture whether it would do the trick or not. Her gauntleted fingers tapped rhythmically on the edge of the metal cart the store provided, absently rapping out a marching beat while her brain was busy.

Comments

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[trickking]

Well. The mace was new. He couldn't place the energy coming off of it, which did nothing to dampen his curiosity in the slightest. His approach was silent, though he was more than clever enough to stand a bit of a distance back, before he spoke.

"Is your intention to break it?"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[inquisitor_lavellan]

Fucking shit, the Inquisitor actually jumped a bit when Lotor announced himself.

"...I mean," nothing to see here you did not see her jump shut up. "Why not?"

u have outdone me

[trickking]

No, no he totally saw it. He's not gonna say anything but he saw that shit.

"I'm just curious." He directs a nod to the mace.

"Your weapon, what is it?" A pause, and... because he feels he does have to elaborate: "I'm aware it's a mace, I'm referring to the energy."

I win I win

[inquisitor_lavellan]

Shut up you saw nothing.

Alley straightened up from attacking the dummy, turning to look at Lotor more head-on than otherwise. Her shield was still on her back, and after considering it for a second, she flipped the mace and held it out handle-first for him to look over.

"It's a corrupting rune. It does more damage against the living."

You know, as opposed to the non-living.

The mace itself looked like three gryphons with their wings extended out and up, forming the actual striking surfaces.

[trickking]

Everything tho.

He took the weapon and examined it, apparently quite interested in the energy rolling off of it. The statement of what it was caused a brow to loft.

"Do you find yourself fighting the non-living very often?" Most would assume that would be said with an air of mocking sarcasm.

On the contrary though, Lotor was quite serious, handing the mace back to her.

"I've seen a skeleton or two on the network, they hardly seem any more dangerous than their living counterparts."

[inquisitor_lavellan]

"Almost as often as the living," Alley confirmed, taking the mace back. "Spirits re-animate corpses by the hundreds in places on Thedas, and they're not friendly."

Jethro really was an outlier.

She gave the mace a little swing, and the energy crackled wildly at the movement.

"But almost all the really important fighting I did was against some kind of living thing, thus the rune."

[trickking]

"How a peculiar universe you live in where the dead walking is so common." So many questions coming up, none of which stated. He had a particular one in mind as she swung the mace about.

"How skilled would you say you are?"

B

[notea]

[This wasn't planned. Solas had been looking for much the same as Alley had: soil, additives, starter plants, seeds. It was all material to help the burgeoning garden he'd begun to grow and dote upon in his idle time. It would have been impossible to miss the face of the woman who had vaguely threatened him the first time he decided to show himself on the network.

Her appearance (rather, what she wore and the particular insignia upon much of her dress) was enough to make him stop, an aisle over and behind her position, his expression ever carefully even even as he quickly slotting pieces together to fit along with the ones he already had. Strange, but it made more sense now, the way she had reacted.

He pauses for a moment and heads over, movements quiet. And once he's in the same aisle—]

...Inquisitor.

[A greeting, not a question.]

[inquisitor_lavellan]

[ Alleyana had known that they'd run into each other eventually. Even with five distinct cities, this world was really tiny. And he had no reason to avoid her the way she'd planned to try to avoid him.

Still, this hadn't been how she'd assumed it might happen. Certainly, it was sooner than she'd hoped. At the sound of his voice, Alley's expression and her tapping fingers alike... froze, for a second.

Startled, yes, but more... jarred than jumpy.

After that moment of freezing in place, she slanted a look over at him, forcing her hand to relax on the edge of the cart. ]

...Solas.

[ That voice wasn't any smoother in person. Rather like she'd gargled with ground glass. ]

[notea]

[Curious. His eyes flicker back to her face from where they'd glanced down to catch the sudden hitch in her hands. His head tilts to the side ever so slightly.]

I had not expected to run into you. It seems that these cities are much smaller than they first appear to be.

[he doesn't address her earlier efforts to hide her identity, it didn't matter now.]

Looking for something in particular?

[inquisitor_lavellan]

[ Don't mind Alley, she's just kind of dealing with her heartbeat being in her throat, here.

He's...

She'd known he was here, because of their prior chat. But now he's here in the flesh and she doesn't know what to do with all the different feelings that's bringing up. That heartbeat is a roar for what feels like a very long moment, and then she clears her throat and glances back up at the bag of soil. ]

Well, I'd... planned to avoid you, but I've never been very good at it.

[ Hey, it's honest. She's ignoring the polite deflecting question of his in favor of more important things to say than 'looking for dirt'. ]

I figured the mind-fuck of alternative universes could wait for a little while.

[ Plus she'd hoped to have a little more time to steel herself. There he is with his stupid freckles and his stupid voice and she doesn't enjoy all these clashing feelings going on right now. Missing him mixed with knowing what she knew now, mixed in turn with knowing she's a stranger to him in this place, mixed with... well, everything. All of it. ]

[notea]

An honest answer, one I expected considering how our first conversation went....

[This did not seem easy for her, his assumptions laid around his leaving the inquisition, the revelation of betrayal perhaps. But there was something else laid on the edges of her guard, something that he can't quite put his fingers on without ruining the puzzle he's slowly piecing together. But his thoughts are interrupted by what she says next. Fair enough.]

Ah, no matter. Concerning as it may be, there's much that could be learned from the revelation as well, could it not Inquisitor?

[inquisitor_lavellan]

[ Boy that bag of dirt sure was fascinating right now. ]

It's not near as big a change as the alternative timeline Dorian and I fell through.

[ Solas was still Solas, Corypheus was still dead -- she assumes he's dead in Solas' universe, too, to have not come up yet. He'd always been quick to discuss the motivations of an ancient hidden power hell-bent on changing the course of the entire world.

For. You know.

Some reason. ]

...

[ She glances over again, and while her expression is neutral enough, the glance turns into studying him right back. It's almost natural, almost like old times when she'd sat on the couch in the rotunda to watch him paint or study the books splayed out on the desk in the center.

Alley had started doing that when they'd been barely more than strangers. It almost feels normal. ]

B

[lazuline]

.. One of those can fill 7 of these pots here.

[she points down to the bottom shelf, stocked with medium-to-large plain ceramic pots. Azura wasn't exactly a green thumb, but she'd been here often enough to try while admiring the flowers. And, in that time she'd watched people ponder the exact same thing that Alley seemed to be pondering now herself.]

[inquisitor_lavellan]

[ Alley follows the pointing, and nods. ]

Yeah. Plenty of pots already, I just keep... not filling them enough.

[ Thus, trips for more dirt. Her landlord must be so pleased with what she's doing to her walled-in patio, between her packing in giant bags of dirt, and the zombie horse being glimpsed over the wall at odd hours. ]

[lazuline]

Ah, I've run into that before myself.

[She considers for a moment.] How big are your pots and how many of them do you have? [she tilts her head to the side, the hair that's always in her face falling to the side with the motion.]

[inquisitor_lavellan]

Well, I've got these big... [ Alley stoops slightly to indicate something a little over knee height, ] and about ah... [ more gesturing, this time side-stepping with the gesture about four feet. ]

Like that. Four of them, plus two of those big round ones like they sell here.

[ More like raised beds than pots, those main four, but she didn't know what else to call them! ]

Do you mess with plants a lot?

[lazuline]

[Azura nods along with Alley as she talks. That certainly is a lot... One bag might not be enough, depending on how much they've already been filled with. At the question her lips turn up in a micro smile, briefly.]

Only some since arriving here. I don't have the time back home. [being in the middle of a war can do that.] How much dirt have you filled them with already?

[inquisitor_lavellan]

[ Alley had claimed a sizeable corner of the courtyard in Skyhold for her hobby of poking at soil and ripping out weeds and in general just doing something that the fate of the entire world didn't rest on.

Mostly.

The potions from those plants of hers had played a role in saving things, after all. ]

Nothing but time around here, save for when the world goes all wonky.

[ Alley considers the question for a moment, head tilting a little to one side. ]

I'd say about two thirds, on average. Some a little more, some a little less. I've piled the dirt up higher where my current plants are.

[B]

[storiesofmyown]

The drumming of fingers against metal caught Martha's attention and instantly put her on edge. She reached for her perception filter key around her neck and when it wasn't there, panic seized her by the throat. She ducked around the corner into another aisle and put her back to the shelves, hands out to steady herself and breathing hard.

Shite. These flashbacks were murder.

[inquisitor_lavellan]

Unfortunately, Alley was no empath, unable to sense the panic in the air and come looking for it. The drumming continued, following an old Ferelden marching beat. One-two, one-two-three, one-two.

After a few minutes the drumming stopped, followed up by a grunt and the crinkling of the paper-plastic of one of the huge bags of potting soil as the Inquisitor lowered it into her cart. And then there came soft cursing in another language, followed by squares of tape peeling from metal and being slapped onto the bag.

Just another day in the garden center.

[storiesofmyown]

While Martha caught her breath, the drumming resolved into a rhythm that was familiar in a different way than the Master's beat. It sounded like a military cadence, and didn't worm so deep into her head.

She pushed herself up off the shelves and debated a moment. No need to meet whoever that was, but it would probably do her some good. She sighed. Doing herself some good was already exhausting, but not doing it wouldn't help.

Another sigh that was more of a bracing breath and she walked around the end of the aisle again. "Hullo."

[inquisitor_lavellan]

As an elf in full armor, the hatchet-faced woman with the many-times-broken nose probably didn't resemble whoever was haunting Martha. So there was that, at least. Alleyana looked up from smoothing a final patch into place on the huge bag of soil. "Hello," ok, well, also, "--I don't work here."

Look, half the time when Alley went to a garden center and started lifting hundred pound bags of dirt, she got asked.

[storiesofmyown]

The unexpected response prompted a chuckle from Martha. A relief, that, for how it broke the tension and let her get on with what she'd come for.

"No, not in that armor, I shouldn't think." Was she an elf? Best not ask even if her inner nerd girl was squeaking a bit. "I just thought to say hello, in case my running off just before seemed rude."

[inquisitor_lavellan]

That's Alley for you, icebreaker extraordinaire. Being socially stunted but accustomed to having to say something could do that to a person.

"Well, I wear it at work, too."

And everywhere else.

Speaking of her social stuntiness--

"...You ran off?" And there's a slow blink from the armored woman, who apparently hadn't seen the dive back around a corner. There'd been a staring contest going on at the time between her and the bag of soil now in her cart, and the jury was still out on who'd won.