Tourist Mingle

[got_it_memorized]

Who: The crew of the Tourist! or anybody who might visit.
Broadcast: Probably not
Action: Anywhere onboard
When: The week of 29Mar-04April

[All things considered, the Tourist is a fairly quiet ship; it seems most of its crew keep to themselves. What happens when they do happen to bump into one another, though? Let's find out! A chance encounter at the coffee machine, an awkward meeting in the shower, or maybe just killing some time in quarters, let's show the Fleet how the Tourist keeps it real.

[Your captain has purchased some fruit at the market on Mor and has generously deigned to share, so there's a selection of apples and oranges and a box of strawberries in the kitchen for the taking! Don't be greedy, though!]

Comments

[killedwithlove]

[Cole lets him turn his hand but refuses to actually let go, eyes closed and lips moving silently.]

No. You don't have to. But it's nice when things are put outside, sometimes. Hollow, fluttering, fast and flashing and then-

Then-

Can I hug you?

[He looks up finally, not trying to move, just face tilting up slightly and big, pale eyes looking at Solas.]

It's been so quiet. I can't hear them over the screens.

[dirth]

Then I missed you, very much, Cole.

[ His fingers brush over pale cheek and he hesitates, his thumb slow, gentle and tender... Before he nods. ]

You may. Please do, Cole.

[ And his hand drops a little, his arms opening, ready for the boy to step into his embrace. ]

I'm here.

[killedwithlove]

[Solas' hand is abandoned immediately and Cole steps in,, hunching down slightly and sliding his arms around Solas' waist and pushing his face into his shoulder and neck, hugging him tightly.

He's a strong boy, he can hug pretty tightly. And if it knocks his hat back, he doesn't seem to care for once what happens to his hat.

He's been so terribly alone and if there's one thing Cole truly dislikes, it's being alone.]

I can hear you. Heart, pulsing, easy, like the ocean, whoosh up back, whoosh up back, aches still there but ebbing too, old grief whispers and lets me be for the moment, this moment can be without that.

[dirth]

[ He doesn't hesitate; slowly, his arms slide around Cole, drawing him close and feeling his hand lift, almost without his consent, to touch the back of his neck, moving down to smooth against his back.

Solas holds Cole gently before his arms squeeze a little tighter, breathing out a soft little noise, pleased and at peace for the first time since he had arrived here. There is so much more he needs to do but, for now, he can do nothing more than have this.

Slowly, a smile warms his features. ]

You have always tried to fix my pain, Cole. This time you have done it without needing to try.

[killedwithlove]

[Cole huffs and presses a bit closer, shifting enough to push his brow against Solas' neck and just breathe.

He's never really noticed it much before, but Solas always smells like the Fade, which isn't a scent he can describe to anyone but it is there and familiar and comforting.

And Solas is relaxing, unwinding-]

-unweaving, unwoken for so long.

[He curls his hands in the back of Solas' clothing.]

[dirth]

[ Solas squeezes him a little tighter, eyes tighter, and he swallows. The rising feelings inside of him curl, twist, and he knows Cole can feel them, the way that all the things he feels unwind and soften.

Cole is softening his heart, drawing out his pain and dropping it away. ]

Thank you, Cole.

[ For coming to see him, for supporting him, for wrapping his arms around him and welcoming him. He doesn't know if Cole has forgiven him but perhaps that would come in time. ]

[killedwithlove]

[Cole shifts slightly with the discomfort of things bubbling up, but like bubbles through water, they reach the surface and break and the things inside the bubbles dissipate for now against the warmth of their embrace.

He hugs a bit tighter, settling himself against Solas and quite content to stay there for as long as they want.

Solas will probably get uncomfortable before Cole does.

He also doesn't understand why he's being thanked, but this close, someone he knows so well, it seeps into him slowly.]

You're forgiven. I don't know what you want my forgiveness for, but you have it.

[dirth]

[ He is uncomfortable, not used to such close contact, but a part of him has been weaned from it. Jove has already breached his personal space and made it easier for him; having Cole back, the Spirit he adored so desperately, makes it all so much easier.

A hand lifts, touching the bottom of Cole's hair... And he leans back. ]

There's a lot I should be forgiven for, Cole, but it's not your duty to do that.

[ He's careful, measured, before he shifts and holds out his hand. ]

Would you like to go to my room?

[killedwithlove]

[Cole actually makes a small sound of protest, like a whine in the back of his throat or base of his chest, but he lets Solas withdraw from him, however much he isn't inclined to.]

But you want me to forgive you. You have to tell me what for. I don't understand why you want my forgiveness, but you can have it.

[He takes the hand, once more, in both of his. When he's touching Solas, the Fade and thus Thedas is a bit closer and the terrible, vast distances of this place are easier to not hear.]

Yes. You don't like being in the open, bare, broken, bravado creaking, cracking, crumbling. Yes.

[dirth]

[ The noise hurts, somewhere deep in his chest, and he swallows and shakes his head, letting his hands rest where they are, giving that ounce of control to him without hesitating. It has been a long time since he has been willing to accept any form of tenderness or comfort.

He is too old. ]

I will remember that, Cole, and perhaps one day it will be something we can talk about.

[ He turns, moving, leaning forward so he can rest his forehead against Cole, his eyes closing. ]

Let's go. I can show you my painting and we can talk.

[killedwithlove]

[Cole keeps holding on, watching Solas intently, focusing with all his senses.]

One day. Time, fickle, fortunate, favoured, frustrated. I'd like to see your painting. You can teach me to paint.

[dirth]

[ He nods, turning, his hand soft on Cole's back. ]

This way. How have you found the ships, the people? I'm sure you were a surprise to them.

[killedwithlove]

[Without a hand to hold, Cole looks down and starts picking at the threads of his hand wraps. It's an old standby habit.]

I don't like it here. Everyone's so far away, it's very quiet. And this ships are small.

[Cole doesn't like confined spaces any more than he likes being alone. They scare him quite badly.]

I spoke to Dorian. He wasn't well, he looked faded. Then a very angry elf yelled at me for a while and Dorian yelled at him. And I met a Grey Warden who doesn't do blood magic and I met Jove, and she knew a Cole too, but not me. I like her. She has a garden.

[dirth]

[ He guides him forward, urging him to follow down the halls. ]

We'll find a way to fix that. I promise.

[ He wants Cole to be comfortable, happy, at peace. He'd do whatever he could to make that happen. ]

Dorian has had some hard times lately, but I am glad that you have been meeting people. I admit that I didn't know Jove when I first arrived.

[ There's warmth in his chest. ]

She is exceptional, isn't she?

[killedwithlove]

[Cole follows, staying close, not quite stepping on Solas' feet while crowding him.

He sighs softly, enjoying that warmth and happiness.]

She's very kind. I like her a lot. But I'd rather stay here with you.

[dirth]

[ He hardly minds. It's comforting and easy and he simply walks, only pausing when they reach his door. ]

I will see what arrangements can be made. If you cannot come to me I will come to you.

[killedwithlove]

Places don't really mean anything to me, but they do to people. Your place in Skyhold meant a lot to you. What you put on the walls meant a lot.

I didn't tell. I didn't think you'd want me to.

[dirth]

[ He makes a soft noise, nodding his head. ]

Not yet, Cole. They're happier, not knowing, aren't they?

[killedwithlove]

I don't know if they'd be happier or not. But it felt...

Deep, desperate, digging into the world and my flesh. It felt private.

[Which, coming from COLE of all people, really says something.]

[dirth]

Private? That's new.

[ He doesn't watching him, careful and gentle. ]

How do you feel, Cole? Emotions do not normally make you think of privacy.

[killedwithlove]

[Cole shifts on the spot, uncomfortable in his body briefly and then shakes his head.]

No. Too open, too exposed, bare and battered by eyes...

[dirth]

[ Gently, encouraging, Solas touches his arm. ]

Then we won't talk about it.

[killedwithlove]

[Cole gets himself into the room, beelining for the corner and curling up in it, relaxing once he felt walls around him.]

Remembering that... You were in the walls, laying everything bare and it hurts so much, the paint holds the pain and persecution. I'm okay. I promise.

[dirth]

[ He walks over, moving to sit, cross-legged, opposite Cole. ]

Do you want to rest for a while?

[killedwithlove]

No. I'm not tired.

[He may have confronted the templar with Varric, but he was a spirit. He didn't sleep.

He did uncurl to reach for Solas' hands again, watching him.]