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

Entry tags:

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

(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.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

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?"

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?"

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."

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.

[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.]

[ 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. ]

[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?

[ 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. ]

Edited 2018-06-27 05:25 (UTC)

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?

[ 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. ]

[Ah, he remembers hearing about that. Though... of course with an entirely different inquisitor than the one that was currently standing in front of him. He also distinctly remembers his inquisitor still being in possession of his anchor.

Alley, on the other hand...he could sense traces of it, of course, but it was gone, as was most of her arm. Replaced instead with something that seemed mechanical in nature.]

Yes, I recall that being a particularly bad alternate timeline that both you and he spoke of after all was said and done. Fortunate that it did not come to be. [He's very dead, Alley, yes.]

[ Intricately carved, enchanted obsidian plates and runes, under the armor on her left -- the magic of it is hooked into the residual Anchor, but it's certainly not her original flesh and bone. ]

So we killed him in your copy, too. Good. I'd hate for there to be versions out there where we failed.

[ And because she can't quite help herself, face to face like they are... her gaze hardens, a bit. Shifting out of neutral and into something a bit colder. ]

...So did you fuck off afterwards, like mine did?

[ Alley, that's not very nice. ]

[The change in his expression is small, a raise of his eyebrows at a particular word in her question. Rude yes, but it also raises more questions. He tucks both of his hands behind his back.]

With Corypheus dead and the orb destroyed, yes. I did leave the inquisition. I had little reason to stay, and he seemed capable enough to lead the inquisition without an apostate elven mage at his side.

[ Alley only managed to win the Game in Halamshiral through a strict adherence to keeping her cards much closer to her chest than normal, and keeping her mouth shut more often than not. Not unlike her demeanor in past times as a lookout and enforcer, just with a lot more polish to it.

It's a skill that she wishes wasn't so rusty, now.

The eyebrows are a tell that he's sniffing after something; so is that change to that familiar posture of his. Ever the scholar, ever attempting to be the impartial and distant observer. ]

Did you say goodbye to your Inquisitor, or was he not worth the time? I'd hate to assume you were friends.

No, I did not. Perhaps he will find it in his heart to forgive me, perhaps not. I would not fault him either way

[And yet, he also finds it hard to believe that he would take it as personally as Alley seems to be...]

Neither did yours, judging by the way your words are cut. [there's emphasis on that word, as he glances towards the soil she'd been so intent on looking at before.]

No, he didn't.

[ Alley doesn't see much wrong with that word; her world, her Inquisition, 'her' Solas. It's for clarity as much as it's for anything else, surely. Surely.

He hadn't been hers in any other respect in a while by the time Corypheus had fallen. Her vhenan still, always, but not her Solas. ]

I worried. I still do. I know he -- you, whatever -- I know you can look out for yourself, but knowing something rationally doesn't stop the worry.

[ Her left hand, the artificial one clad in identical armor to the right, goes to her sash, where she unclips the single elfroot potion that hangs there, palming the thick glass vial and hefting it like she might toss it his way in a moment. If his hands don't stay behind his back, anyway. ]

This is the only one I have ready, but I'd feel better if you had it.

[Playing the game as they were, Solas had not expected such an unguarded expression of emotion as he's greeted with.]

I assure you, your worries are misplaced but they are not unappreciated, Inquisitor. [a shroud of guilted weight settles itself over his shoulders for a moment, but he shakes it off by straightening his posture. And then again by addressing the potion. One hand reaches out from behind his back.]

I had not expected such a kindness from you before meeting you here today, despite what you'd said before. Thank you. I'll have to return the favor in the future.

[ Alley tosses the vial underhanded once he seems ready for it. Because no, she's not going to approach him. She's barely keeping it together as it is, thus the fluctuation between the game and... not. Taking her background into consideration, she's pretty damn good at this stuff, but she's not perfect at it and there's an awful lot of clashing feelings going on inside her head. ]

I don't need anything in return, I'd do the same for anyone from Thedas, no matter the version. I'll send you some more when the plants are ready. Even if you don't need them for yourself, I know you well enough to know you might need them for others.

[ Look at that, she's made it back to neutrality. She's every inch the Inquisitor again, not Alleyana. If she can just hold onto that, then she may make it out of this situation in one emotional piece.

Just gotta take that sentiment she'd expressed and lock it away. Just gotta lock it away. Just gotta... ]

[The vial is easy enough to catch one handed, it isn't as if Solas lacks hand eye coordination or grace. He bows his head ever so slightly in thanks before tucking it away in a pocket or belt satchel, or something.]

No, I suspect you wouldn't. But returning a kindness isn't something I would do out of obligation.

[and again, a pause.]

You are not what I expected. Guarded as you are, this has been a pleasant meeting. I can only apologize that I am not the one you know.

[ You are not what I expected. She's heard that before, and Alley's expression drops just a hair... just a little micro-expression toward melancholy for a moment. It's mostly around the eyes, and the way her gaze slants down and away for a second. Just a tiny hint of what's going on inside her skull, and it's over as soon as it's begun. ]

Don't apologize, I prefer it this way.

[ And in fact, she forces her attention to the massive bag of soil she'd been having a stare-down with before, rolling her shoulders once with a series of wet crack-pops of the much-abused joints themselves before she reaches up for the bag. It's a good hundred pounds, and even as careful as she's being, the sharp tips of her gauntleted fingers still punch holes in the bag, like talons, as she lowers it down into her cart.

If she's lucky, maybe he'll be gone before she's done slapping the little squares of duct-tape she'd brought down over the holes. ]

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."

"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."

[No, not gone. Unfortunately for Alley. Instead he's leaned in to plug up a hole that she seems to have accidentally left open.]

You seem to have missed one. Perhaps it would be a good idea to grapple these more carefully in the future, Inquisitor.

[He's trying to be helpful, not startling, but considering the manner in which he moves and the fact that he's a fucking weirdo elf that doesn't wear shoes, she might not notice until he's all up in her business...]

[ Let's be real, it's more that Alley's a weirdo elf who wears boots, than the reverse.

But there's Solas, suddenly a lot whole closer. Hands too close to Alley's, voice right there, and the Inquisitor startles with all the grace and elegance of the mabari war-hound she's often compared to. A yelp and a jump, and those gauntlets of hers are sharp, each and every plate a hazard to the world around them.

She knows immediately that the edge of a knuckle just sliced skin. There's a drag, a tug whenever that happens. And so, too fast to be anything but instinct or habit, Alley grabs the wounded hand in one of hers before any blood can start to well up, pressing a cloth from her sash against the slice. Her expression's already gone from shock to something much more complicated; guilt. ]

Fenedhis! You need bells on you.

[Well, that could have gone better. To Solas' credit, despite the pain that initially burned in the wake of Alley's quick motion, he manages to pay attention to several things that happened in this particular exchange.

Particularly the hand holding.

Despite raised brows, Solas does not seem to be concerned, and even manages something of a upwards quirk of one corner of his mouth at her exclamation.]

Ah, be that as it may. I'm fine. You have nothing to worry about. Perhaps I should have said something before helping. I had no idea you would be quite that jumpy.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 6

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

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

u have outdone me

I win I win

B

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject