driftfleet | 004 || video;

Entry tags:

004 || video;

Who: Leliana
Broadcast: yes
Action: aboard the blue fish
When: now

[Leliana's address to the network came somewhat late - someone had gotten revenge for her prank, after all. Her cowl is pulled back resting about her shoulders and her skin and the ends of her hair are still drying after she'd scrubbed the ink off. Schmooples could be heard snuffling from her lap, his long ears making a cameo as he was cradled against her.]

I apologize. It seems I mayhap have fallen victim to a long slumber. I don't recall the ships leaving the planet we were last on, but I am to understand some time has passed.

[Guaranteed, Riona waited a good few days before daring to draw on her face.]

I will be resuming my duties in the Interfaith Center – Stefan, I apologize sincerely for my absence. I hope it has not caused an inconvenience.

[She smiles warmly, blue eyes lit up as she continues speaking.]

For those who do not know me: I am Sister Nightingale and I assist the Interfaith Center for those of Andrastian faith, hailing from Thedas. I can also be found aboard the Blue Fish, should anyone ever seek counsel from me outside of the Center. You do not have to be Andrastian to do so, of course.

Private: Riona Cousland Theirin.

[There's a bit of an evil smile on Leliana's face as she switches the feed to private.]

You got your revenge, no?

[She laughs warmly, her eyes alight with mischief]

Care to join me for lunch? I'm feeling a bit peckish after being out of sorts. You can catch me up on all the latest gossip.

[She runs her fingers through the wet ends of her red hair and Schmooples crawls up her chest into view to snuffle at the camera over her shoulder.]

I hope I didn't worry you too much.

Action

[Leliana can be found either aboard the Blue Fish or in the Interfaith Center praying silently before her own hand made totem statue of Andraste. The nap seemed to have done her at least a little good. Still she felt the lingering grief of home and the troubles it faced but she was slowly becoming more at peace in her new life. Perhaps she could finally lay down her burdens? She wasn't so sure yet. For now she moved on to the next stage of things – normalcy.

Aboard the Blue Fish Leliana makes her security rounds, stopping to take a break to make some tea and enjoy some quiet in the kitchens. Something seemed amiss, though she couldn't put her finger on it nor guess that perhaps that it was because a crew member had gone missing. Still the stillness put her at ease.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Cole keeps up his petting and rubbing and the slug explores Schmooples, tapping over his long ears with little feelers.]

She's good. Nice. I had to try and explain to Anakin what the Blight is. It was hard.

Did you? I suppose it is rather hard to explain to someone who hasn't been through one...

[Excuse her not concealed grin and pleased gasp of unbridled joy because the slug is playing with her Schmooples!!]

Can I hold one of your friends? They're rather adorable.

[She decides to join him, sitting across from him where he was perched on the floor with Schmooples and his slugs.]

My- oh, yes.

[He reaches up a hand and one of them shuffles onto his hand. He extends his hand out to Leliana and dear Maker, his nails are filthy.

Without Jove and Solas, he's not doing brilliantly on the personal upkeep front. No one on his ship it making sure he does people things.]

They like being petted and held. That was why they came with me. I have... seven of them living with me on Pathstone? Mostly in the plants Jove gave me.

[Leliana takes over for the little slug gladly, actually giggling a bit when the squishy little thing gets settled in the palms of her hands.]

They're lovely creatures. I don't doubt many in the Fleet were taken with them and have some of their own as well.

[Dirty hands or no, she was glad Cole at least seemed happy even if he wasn't very good at being human just yet.]

[The slugs are curious. There's lots of tapping of hands and fingers with feelers and like suction feet. And a second one drops from his hat and starts shuffling towards Leliana.]

They wanted to come with me, from the island with all of them. They wanted to explore.

[Leliana doesn't disturb the little slug that makes its way towards her, petting the one already exploring her hands and trying to make its way up her arm. It was a slimy and fuzzy little thing and the contradiction was entrancing.]

Do you take them to visit your friends on other ships?

[Already she has an inkling that he might be here for more than just her reemergence from her slumber. He probably senses the negative energy rolling off of each of them in light of Anders' memories being more current to what she knows. He would want to help. Truly, she wished that he could.

Leliana wanted any other solution than making sure Anders atoned for the crimes he'd committed. She sympathized with mages and understood that when pushed too far they often resorted to extremes. The reports of Hawke in her version of events told her that the woman had killed him, but that didn't seem to be the case here. He had been allowed to live and he would be allowed to live and potentially become a danger, should Justice emerge and wreck havoc. The thought clouded over everything else, making her feel uneasy. In a sense, she wished it could help ease her grief over Justinia. Had the Kirkwall incident not happened there would have been no war and no need for a conclave at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.]

Edited 2016-08-12 21:31 (UTC)

Sometimes, yes.

[He settles Schmooples into the crook of his arm more comfortably.]

No. The war was coming, and I think you know that. White Spire rebelled, because they were being choked. Lambert wanted mages to suffer and he liked making other people hurt them. Making templars hurt mages and rewarding them for it.

He was evil. And he didn't have anything to do with Kirkwall. If Cole had lived, he would have had rebellion in his heart, because they hurt him and they made him do things...

But I'm just Compassion. I don't really understand... um, Solas called them wider consequences? But I think I'm learning.

Corypheus still would have been real. Active. Angry. Tainted.

[He curls down a bit more.]

You weren't meant to think about those things for a while. I'm sorry.

[Schmooples was enjoying the pampering, resting in Cole's arms and making the occasional snuffle sound and wiggling here and there to get comfortable. Leliana, on the other hand, wasn't quite so content with herself.]

I do know that. White Spire could have become Kirkwall.

[And she regretted that mages faced that choice again and again - to stay compliant or to rebel against their shackles. Even more, she hated that Wynne had to die that day. She wished for reforms but the way to make them happen would be just as hard fought as any war. Still, she feels guilty that Cole had come here to cheer her up and yet here she was dwelling on what ifs, thinking of possibly raising her blade against Anders. Cole wasn't the only one who worried about doing bad things.]

You have nothing to apologize for. Wanting to help make it better - there's nothing to be sorry for in that. Thank you for thinking of me, Cole.

[Cole didn't know if Anders and Vengeance should be stopped. He wouldn't try to work it out, it was beyond his scope.]

I don't think I am helping. I'm sorry for not helping more.

Leliana... who was your Inquisitor?

She was a human by the name of Trevelyen. I had heard that there was an elven Inquisitor by Lavellan but I did not have the good fortune to meet her.

Yes, Jove. She called me 'spirit son' and asked Cullen to try to be nice to me. Cullen was from her Thedas and so was Dorian.

Um, there was a man called Lavellan here, before I was here. Dorian told me about him. And Solas was there, with that Inquisitor.

[He looks up at the ceiling, fingers absently stroking bare ears.]

I can't remember who Cassandra had for an Inquisitor. And Varric was from before an Inquisitor. There was a Garrett Hawke, but none of them are from my Thedas.

... I don't know where Fenris is from. I said that if I stayed away from him, he wouldn't hunt me down and kill me. Or, he told Dorian that, and he hasn't done it since Dorian left, so I guess he still feels that way.

Cullen should be nice to you. You don't move his desk like Sera does, after all.

[Leliana smiles a bit, attempting to inject humor into the situation. Sadly she was not Alistair, in that regard. Only he could truly add humor to even the most horrible of situations and somehow turn it around.

Though Cole did have a way of getting under the skin that she recognized. She could see why Cullen would be bothered by that. If Cole ever tried that on her she'd probably be as unsettled as the former templar was.]

Fenris knows not to harm you. There are too many in the fleet who would be upset by such a thing - myself and Warden Cousland included. It wouldn't be worthwhile for him to attempt it. You've done nothing to him to deserve that sentiment from him, I presume?

I scare him. I remind him of the Circle in Fereldan, the fall of the tower. Sole survivor, standing in a circle of sickening, cycling...

No.

[He shrugs slightly and hugs Schmooples.]

Fenris? No! He saw me, pain, brilliant, white hot rage, demon, abomination GET AWAY-

[He suddenly bit his hand, silencing the flow of words and panicking Schmooples. The slugs immediately starting purring in response.]

Sorry. Sorry, Schmooples. It's okay. You're safe.

Fenris would like me to go away. He saw Cole's memories, and he thought 'good'.

Ah. What happened at Kinloch Hold was not your fault, though. He knows that.

[Still, she listens to him, reaching forward for his arm to try and stop him from hurting himself. Schmooples let out a startled sound before he was quieted by Cole and Leliana retracts her hand.]

There was nothing good about what happened to Cole.

[Leliana can't help but frown deeply, shaking her head.]

He should understand that mage or templar - we're all created in the Maker's image, created equally. Some are so stuck on the belief that the way things are should be accepted and they're wrong.

[She remembered her time as a cloistered sister, the judgmental looks she got whenever she spoke her mind - why shouldn't the Maker love everyone? Even mages or sisters who did not always have the Chant of Light memorized to perfection - sisters like her who sought acceptance and peace after the things she'd seen and done in her past. Marjolaine may have made her in her image but she could not change her true heart of hearts. That part of her was pure and belonged to a higher calling, whether others doubted how true she was to Him or not.]

But then, I don't suppose spirits wonder overly much about what the Maker views them as, no?

Edited 2016-08-18 00:31 (UTC)

He knows, but it sits, silent, sullen, sinking into his soul. I know things like they did. I know what they did, because it still hurts him. He knows I'm not them, but the fear is still there.

[And he doesn't blame Cullen for it. Being scared is never something someone chooses.

He listens to her, watching, feeling, flashes of memory and clarity.]

We don't know about your Maker. Except what we see in dreams, in feelings. Maybe Faith knows more, I think it would, but I don't understand 'Maker'. I don't understand the story about a parent who abandons their children, but their children must keep proving their worthiness.

[It doesn't make sense to Compassion. It doesn't make sense to Cole, for a very different reason.]

[It's on the tip of her tongue to say something about Cullen - their little interlude meetings with Josephine had often run her nerves raw but then Cullen was a capable commander and cole didn't need to know everything about their occasional squabbling. Part of her wished Cullen would put aside his issues with Mages, but then that was not her battle to fight.]

I am sure that Cullen will understand in time not to place fear onto you.

[It was interesting to hear a spirit's perspective, however - to say the least. Not everything about Andrastian lore made sense but then that was for the scholars to piece together, not her.]

It's a strange story, isn't it? But then that just makes it more fascinating to think about, no? A lot of stories are like that.

[Cole already knows a lot about it, their hurts screaming and screeching from the war room.]

He knew. But his heart had been so hurt and they hurt had been dug into, inflamed, poisoned for so many years. He was fighting to claw it open and let it drain and heal despite her.

[He wrinkles his nose. He doesn't understand the Chantry or the Maker.]

No. I just don't understand. I think that's because of what I am. I don't undertand what there is to think about. He made people and they weren't what he expected, so he abandoned them and make generation after generation suffer and bleed and Blight.

I don't understand that sort of cruelty. Like Corypheus. Too much. No feeling. Too far from Compassion.

The stories say he's abandoned us, but I don't believe that.

[Or at least she used to not believe that. It was easier to say so and put on a brave face, though. Riona had been what kept her faith alive after Marjolaine had tried to kill her.]

I don't believe he's as cruel as the stories say.

[And it had caused her scorn among the others in the Chantry, when Justinia had been Dorothea. Now all she had left was her faith, while all the rest was gone.]

[Cole looks up at Leliana, brightening a little.]

I can't believe in their Maker. But... your Maker sounds much better. Believable. I like yours more. I don't understand cruel. I understand caring. I understand a Maker who wanted to have Dorothea as his voice.

It would have been nice, to hear her voice one last time - even if it wasn't truly her.

[She feels vulnerable admitting so. That's not a feeling she takes lightly. Cole did his best to be helpful to members of the Inquisition and while doing so he often got straight to the heart of their deeper problems. Though, why he insisted bees could substitute honey in wine was beyond her.]

Were you there in the Fade with the Inquisitor?

It might have been. Maybe, she became a spirit of faith. Or, like me and Cole, she was so much part of her that they couldn't tell each other apart.

[He doesn't know.]

Yes. Solas, me, Blackwall, Cadash, Marian Hawke, Jean-Marc Stroud.

Hmm. Not Alistair, then?

[She'll make a mental note of that, considering Adawolfe Hawke was adamant that King Alistair had gone into the fade.]

No.

Alistair was in Denerim, being King. Fondness in the ink, a bright smile and laughter shared between scribe and king, he's king, but he never acts like he's better than anyone, always laughs at the soft jokes made at his expense.

Stroud stayed. Charged. Flash of sword and relief that the Calling would end.

[That earns him a genuine smile. He can probably feel the warmth that fills up her heart with fond memories. The Blight might have been awful but she remembered the nights at Camp, Alistair misplacing a sock in Wynne's pack, Schmooples sitting in her lap by the fire while the two of them laughed together with Riona about some joke he'd made in his transparent attempt to win her affections. He'd been adorable and sweet and then he'd become Ferelden's King and Riona his Queen. They had not lost the joyous part of themselves, thank the Maker.

It was a pity that some part of her had.]

Oh, he used to get so confused when someone made jokes at him. I think the only time I've ever seen someone tease him earnestly and he return it was Riona. Morrigan teased him to be cruel, of course.

Morrigan...

[He flinches.]

Sharp edges, sharp words, dark spirits cling and call and fall under her heel, will wrapped like wire, biting and burning-

[He shakes himself, like he could shake off her presence and the memories of it.]

Not at. With. He laughed too.

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