driftfleet | Video

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Who: Lark
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Paisley
When: Evening

[It's a grisly scene that the video opens up to. Lark sits in the kitchen of the Paisley on a table. Every surface around her (and visible behind her) is taken up by strips of meat. There's even some meat hanging up where she'd run out of surface. The elf herself also isn't the prettiest sight right now, there's smears of blood on her cheek and her shoulder appears to be a bloody and ragged mess of red fabric.]

I've failed to introduce myself officially. My name is Lark Mahariel, I come from Thedas. I'm in charge of communications on the Paisley and it's a pleasure to meet those of you I have not stumbled across on my own.

More importantly, I've spent the better part of the last couple days tracking and hunting one of the planet's predators, I suspect it's meat will make for good long-term rations, if anyone is interested; there's plenty. It's been cleaned and cured and is currently drying, but of you'd rather it fresh, feel free to get some now.

I also have the beast's armor if anyone has any skill with crafting.

[She starts to reach for the off button, but pauses.]

I...might also request the attention of a healer or someone similar, if one is available.

[If not...well, she's Dalish. She'd make do.]

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[Maker's balls, woman are you trying to give her gray hairs? She hasn't been this worried for a Warden since the incident with Riona and the High Dragon at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.]

I can take you to see one. Is it a serious injury?

Edited (hur dur forgot you rp anders too) 2016-12-09 23:46 (UTC)

[Lark's expression brightens considerably to see Leliana, but her hand comes up to gently touch her shoulder.]

It's nothing, Vhenan. Did you fight a dragon with Riona? Believe me, that fight was much worse.

[She didn't fare much better...and it honestly left her terrified of the great beasts. But this hadn't been a dragon, thank the Creators.]

I did and she nearly died, with a scar to show for it. If Wynne hadn't been there she probably would have died.

[Wynne had been an amazing woman, Maker rest her soul. Leliana still thought of her frequently now that she and Riona were here together and not separated by their personal duties.]

Please... tell me you didn't nearly die during that fight.

[She smiles a bit, hesitant to really give in to the feeling behind that term of endearment she was giving her. She didn't want her to feel like she was reciprocating. Truthfully she didn't know if she should. It almost felt like a betrayal even if the woman she was with was still her.]

[She hesitates, her other hand coming up to wipe at the blood smear on her face...and only making it worse in the process.]

Of course not, Wynne was there for me as well, it never would have happened.

[She definitely had a scar down one thigh and a healed puncture wound through her abdomen, but she wouldn't have died, she would tell herself and Leliana that. No one needed to know how scared she'd been or how terrified of dragons she now was.]

Besides, had I even thought about dying, you wouldn't have let me do it so easily.

[Leliana had been there too. It was for her that the puncture wound from the dragon's claw had happened. IT could have been her Leli and what if it had gone straight through her heart instead? Wynne never would have gotten there in time...

She could remember Leliana's touch to her cheek and fingers through her hair, something grounding while Wynne worked her magic. Something solid in the pain and guilt.]

You were mad enough at me after it was over...I was the one who struck the gong.

Ah, I suppose I would have been angry for that - having one Hero of Ferelden risk their life is bad enough. But you both do so willingly.

[A pause]

Ogrhen struck it. He'd rolled down a hill - drunk as always.

[She just shakes her head at the memory.]

Riona had a hell of a time fighting the damned beast. It was definitely no Flemeth.

[Lark laughs, a light but full sound, only to wince with a smile as the laugh jostled her shoulder.]

I feel like I should be surprised about this turn of events, but I'm not. I adore Ogrhen, but it sounds like something that would happen to him.

[As for Flemeth...she decidedly avoids the topic. Even though there'd been intelligence in that dragon's eyes, it had still frightened her so close up.]

Mm. I'm just glad we made it through the Blight without him eating Schmooples.

[Still, she can't help but smile at the memories. They were all fond, even the worst of them.]

I suppose he remained the same mostly-drunken fool in your version of things?

[Her expression is a mixture of exasperation and amusement.]

I can't imagine him any other way. I suppose...you're the same and he's the same, perhaps it was only she and I that were different. What a strange idea.

[She shrugs, but then winces when it pulls her injured shoulder. That was silly.]

Have any of the others shown up here? After a year of having them nearby, I find myself missing them more often than not.

Maker's breath, what did you kill?

[Oh god, it's like when Allen and Sokka took down that dinosaur all over again.]

Is there a medic on your ship? If not, we have two, either of whom would gladly take a look.

I think the locals called it...a 'Sand Shark?' It sounded formidable and, apparently, there's been an increase in their numbers.

[So, clearly, she was doing them all a favor by killing it.]

I believe there is. I think he's also the Captain. It's truly not that bad, perhaps it will scar in an interesting pattern?

[A small smile slinks it's way onto her face.]

Not formidable enough, it seems. [Because damn.] Were you a hunter in your clan?

[She nods, glad help is on the way for her.]

A collector of scars? I'm sure you have your share from the Fifth Blight alone.

I was. A damn good one, too.

[She knows what she's good at, even if it definitely sounds like boasting.]

I did manage to collect more in that one year than I had in my twenty before it, I'll admit.

I may assume you amassed some of your own as well, then?

[Y'Allah.

Stefan's booking it as soon as he recognizes those familiar barstools. His - their kitchen's coated in blood, and it's all because of their new crewmate. He doesn't care about the why or the hows, but someone's hurt and - ]

I'm on my way right now. [He sounds frantic, and that's because of the blood, and Y'Allah.

He can't think straight.] Don't move, don't touch anything else, and most importantly - wash the wounds. I've got antibacterial cream in the cabinets.

[She's almost startled by how suddenly his voice cuts from her communicator.]

There...is no need to rush, I am not bleeding out on the floor.

..but how am I to not move and clean the wound at the same time?

[She's smiling, at least.]

Edited 2016-12-12 03:46 (UTC)

[Right!! Stefan laughs at his own blunder.] You got me there. Just be careful.

I'll be there in... really, really soon.

[Indeed, that would be the sound of his footsteps in the cargo bay. He's a vampire on a mission.]

[She waits patiently, though she doesn't do a great job at not moving. The blood she'd gotten all over the kitchen she's cleaned up and the blood she'd saved from bleeding the kill before skinning it had been put away. The meat left out drying was still hanging around the room, however. The kitchen might only seem appetizing to them right about now.

When Stefan comes in, Lark gives a small wave from the counter where she'd sat again.]

You are the medic of this ship? Then you must also be the Captain, a pleasure. I'd heard they were one and the same here.

It would be wise to seek out your ship's medic, if you have one.

[Look at him, faintly giving a shit if you die or not. ]

Still, I have to say I'm impressed. It looks like it was quite the adversary.

We do. He seems to be seeking me out rather hurridly. I think he believes that I'm bleeding out all over the kitchen.

[She points to her cheek.]

This is not mine.

The creature was called a Sand Shark and it had the anger of an ogre to it. You could have it's armor, if you'd like. It's too heavy for me to make use of, but it's scales are tough.

There are plenty more, should you like to find another.

Ah. I suppose it is better to have one a little too invested in his work than one who cares little.

[A gift! Fenris looks surprised, but wow, he sure does like getting gifts. ]

I...thank you. That is...considerably generous of you.

[You should know by now, Fenris, Thedas protags always give gifts.

She offers a smile.]

I would rather know my bounty ended up in capable hands. I have cleaned the armor, as soon as I'm 'suitably' patched up, I'll deliver it to you.

[He really should be more used to this than he is. ]

It would be, I assure you. Thank you again.

You're welcome.

[A small pause.]

Take care.

[Another Thedosian and Adalwolfe is seized by an immediate surge of protectiveness over Anders. He decides he won't say anything to this elf woman, not knowing what time it is she's from. He's not going to make the same mistake with her as caused all the upset among the others on his arrival.

But that doesn't mean he can just let a cry for help - or, well. A mutter for help - go unanswered. That and he's been practicing his healing.]

I'm from Thedas too, Adalwolfe-... Amell. I know a bit of Creation magic, if you don't mind help from a human.

[She's clearly Dalish, after all. And no need to go sharing the bag of cats that is his very famous family name just yet. This will probably bite him in the ass later, but for now he just wants to protect Anders.]

Edited 2016-12-12 03:13 (UTC)

[She gave him a side-glance, seemingly sizing him up.]

I might mind. I might also not, it depends on why you would offer to help an elf.

[So far, the Thedosians she'd met had been okay, Fenris only slightly counted since he was also an elf. The other humans barely seemed to blink an eye at her or what she was. It caused a bit of a conundrum: Those from Thedas were a comfort in their familiarity, but those from Thedas could also come with their prejudices, if they had them.

At least he was a mage and those seemed to do better with her kind, it seemed.]

But I suppose familiar magic would be a better comfort than other magic.

I have a good friend who's an elf, though really that shouldn't be the reason. Merrill aside, I'm just the type who would rather help than see people suffer.

[He gives a tight smile.]

You're on the Paisley, you said? I can be there shortly.

In the kitchen.

[She nods, but seemingly goes silent after.]

Once he shows up, his greeting is a careful one, like she's trying not to sound hopeful. Fenris had told her some of the Sabrae clan, but she wanted to hear all she could.]

You said your friend's name was Merrill? It's not an unusual name among my people, but I- did she come from clan Sabrae?

[That's a surprise. He'd initially wanted to ask if Lark perhaps knew his elven companion but logic told him that not every Dalish knew each other and it would be incredibly rude to ask such a thing. Here instead Lark's saved him the trouble.]

She did. Keeper Marethari sent her with me. Merrill said they came all the way up from Ferelden but I didn't want to assume anything.

[He reaches into the pouch at his side for a small bottle of elfroot potion and a clean cloth. He hands her the bottle, then flips the cloth over his shoulder and goes to get some water from the sink.]

You can ask me what you like, just take this and then tell me where your injury is the worst first.

[She followed instruction, but then set the bottle aside as she worked on undoing the clasps at the top of her shirt. A moment later, she'd pulled it off with a hiss of pain and dropped it to the floor below. She'd need to clean and mend it later.]

My shoulder. Everything else is scrapes and bruises.

Why did the keeper send Merrill with you?

[He debates the wisdom of just saying 'her own reasons' and leaving it at that. Merrill's issues with her clan are her own to tell or not and Adalwolfe doesn't feel he has a leg to stand on there, but he can't just leave the question unanswered. That would be rude, and just beg more questions.

Mulling over his answer, Adalwolfe comes back with his cloth and warm water. He dips the cloth in carefully and wrings out the excess water before gingerly starting to clean her wound in order to see properly for healing. He's not so good at it yet that he can simply cast out Creation magic and know it will do what it needs to do sight unseen.]

Truthfully? She asked to leave. She was a great help and a dear friend to me in the ensuing years after, but I think she didn't see eye to eye with the Keeper.

[She was careful not to move as he cleaned the wound, but unease grew in her as Hawke spoke.]

Do you know why they were in disagreement?

[She kept a measured evenness to her tone in an attempt to keep how worried she was under wraps. Merrill was the picture of a Perfect First, except for her social skills, nut she'd always listened to the Keeper. What could have possibly changed that?]

It's really her story to tell, honestly...

[Adalwolfe wrestles with himself for a long moment, framing it as cleaning her wound and examining how best to go about healing it. After almost too long a time he sighs.]

She was trying to fix a mirror, some kind of ancient Elvhan artifact. She said she lost a dear friend too it and was trying to bring him back. The Keeper didn't like her messing with it, thought it was too dangerous.

[Lark went tense and on-edge. Her mind was racing and she couldn't pin down a thought long enough to voice it. A mirror? There was only one mirror that fit that description. That mirror had ruined everything.

By the time it occurs to her she should say something, she's been quiet far too long and her voice comes out barely above a whisper when she finally finds some words. How could Merrill have done this?

Why couldn't that damn mirror just stop ruining lives?

Why'd they ever go in those Creator-forsaken ruins!?]

Thank you for telling me. And healing me.

[He nods, but only a moment passes before he's decided he needs to defend his friend. She's not here to defend herself, and the whole clan was against her. He imagines Lark is no different.]

She did it to help. I feel I should impress that. She only ever wanted to help everyone. She's a Keeper now, you know. Sort of.

[He lets what little creation magic he has do its job, knitting the skin of the wound now that he's sure it's clear of any detritus.]

Kirkwall's alienage insisted on calling her that, last I heard.

[Lark's expression twists a bit, her brows furrowing together.]

She could have been Keeper for clan Sabrae. She would have been great.

She saw-she shouldn't have touched that mirror.

[Suddenly, a look of horror crosses Larks face and she looks up.]

Wait! She messed with the mirror, she must have gone back after...she wasn't tainted, was she!?

Edited 2017-01-22 22:50 (UTC)

No, she wasn't. She's just fine.

[Well, that's debatable considering she's also a blood mage, but that's another thing he's not sure he should share with Lark.]

I don't know what she ultimately did with the mirror, I just know she's still trying to help everyone she meets.

[He sits back a bit, curiosity getting the better of him.]

What was she like when you knew her?

[Lark visably relaxes with Hawke's assurance. At least there was that. But she's quiet after his question, considering.]

Quiet. Quiet and diligent. [A small, soft, smile formed like a softly blurred edge.]

There were four of us growing up at the same time, practically the same age, we were like a little pack. Merrill never got along very well with anyone in the clan except for us, she was so reserved. I think Tamlen, Feneral and I were the only ones who really knew her. Well, aside from the Keeper. Merrill and I didn't know our parents...I think that helped with the two of us, we'd often sit together. She got into so much trouble because of us...she tried to keep us in line, but we were just too stubborn.

[As Lark reminisced, her smile brightened and brightened, but as the story ended and the reality of how things were now settled, it dimmed into nothing again.]

When she became the First, we didn't see as much of her anymore, she was always with Marathari, but we would sit with her after a hunt and enjoy our spoils with her. Tamlen and I did what we could.

[Lark's eyes stung and burned and she squeezed them tight and breathed deep to shake the feeling. She wouldn't bare such emotion in front of someone she didn't know. In a blink's time, she was composed as before.]

She was sweet and loving, the truest friend anyone could ask for, I simply wish she'd allowed others to see it.

Edited 2017-01-27 01:47 (UTC)

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