Voices from Heaven (
thespaceopera) wrote in
driftfleet2015-10-20 10:06 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
Sweet dreams are made of these...
( for A-M characters )
Before you post your topcomment, please:
1. Check the first letter of your character's name as its written in our tags. A-M names comment here, and N-Z names go to the other post.
2. Make a note in your topcomment if anything especially triggering or graphic might show up in the Calibration. If you're not sure if something's worth noting or not, we suggest listing it anyway, just to err on the side of caution.
3. Put your character's name (it can be shortened or different from the tag, this time) in the subject of your comment. This will help visitors find you easily, and help us update the list below.
4. Post your comment! It's fine if everyone's Calibrations end up looking and reading very different from one another. As long as you're having fun and following our guidelines, you're good to go. :)
5. If you have any questions or concerns during Calibrations, you are welcome to send them towards the mod team at any time, as always.
no subject
The room is the same, though the wolf is gone, as are the myriad of odd items. There's a fire burning in the fireplace, all is quiet. The door of the room opens and a man steps through. Dark haired and dark bearded, his face hard and gruff. Not a friend. Not an enemy either. Hawke. He has the book in his hands, which he offers over to you.
"I got you something."
You take it, unsure. You look at the title, but it's just a jumble of illegible symbols.
"I...it's a book," you say.
"This one is quite rare, actually. The book is by Shartan, the elf who helped Andraste free the slaves. You know about him, right?"
You bristle at the tone. Fucking Hawke and his arrogant swagger. As if you don't know anything. Just because you've led a different life to him doesn't mean you're an idiot.
"Of course I know about him. What do you take me for?" you huff. "I certainly didn't learn from books, though. Do you think they teach slaves to read?"
Hawke lets out an annoyed sigh, then offers a flirty smile. You know it's going nowhere. The man takes Anders to his bed every damn night. You're not going near that mess with a ten foot pole.
"It's not too late to learn, Fenris."
It goads you into a reaction, which you're certain the man was aiming for anyway. He likes to press your buttons. You explode with bitter, angry rage.
"Is that what this is? Let's teach the poor slave to read?"
...Judging by Hawke's face, that wasn't actually his plan. And you let out an annoyed 'augh'. How can you find someone so maker-forsaken annoying and yet still not actually want them to come to harm? It's stupid.
"Ignore me. You are not responsible for my deficiencies. I do appreciate your gift. I've always wanted to learn more of Shartan, perhaps this is my chance. "
[The memory ends, and she's back in the room. The wolf is watching her, tail wagging a little. ]
no subject
It threw her, and she rests her hand on the table to settle herself.
Touching things, it seems, may be dangerous.
She glances at the wolf and smiles a little, speaking to it]
I should be careful what I touch, shouldn't I. There are secrets here, it seems.
[She had been alone so long that it was a gift to speak her mind as if she were with her companions in Terre D'Ange. So much had to be kept inside here, with no way to know who was watching or when.]
no subject
Lucky her.]
no subject
Eventually, her meandering takes her closer to the large wolf who - so far - seemed friendly enough.]
no subject
no subject
[Phedre stoops and lifts the doll with every intention of setting it back within the wolf's grasp.]
no subject
You move your head to take in the room, but you feel a sharp TUG at your neck. There's a collar there, attached to a chain. On the other side is the man the doll represented. Tall and dark haired, a cruel smile across his lips.]
"Pay attention, my little wolf, it's time for me to entertain my guests."
[The words "yes, master" pass your lips. The doors open and a child is brought through, his clothing is torn, his skin dirty. A child of the streets. No one will miss him. No one important, anyway. The man with the chain beams, waving the group of people over, enjoying being the center of attention. ]
"My friends! Did you think I'd bring you here without giving you something to talk about on the way home tonight? You'd be very wrong if you did."
[He laughs and gives a nod. A knife goes into the boy from the slave who'd brought him in. He doesn't die. He bleeds and the man with the chain waves his fingers. The boy dances. He bleeds and dances and SCREAMS. ]
[And then, just like that, she's back in the run down room. The wolf has stood up, his hackles raised, growling. ]
no subject
Nothing could outshine the cruelty of men.
The growling wolf has her dropping the doll with a start and shuffling back, still on her knees.
That wolf was a man. A man who she had just intruded on immensely.]
I am so sorry, my lord.
[Sorry for intruding, sorry for his experience.]
no subject
no subject
Instead of continuing her exploration, she will settle next to the wolf. This was a delicate place, and she wouldn't just bumble in again.]
May I ask... who you are?
no subject