nonvenomous | Inbox

Oh. Yeah, fine, I'm just bored.

[ Does the fwumph of her falling back to lay on her bed carry over? ]

Do you wanna play cards with me when you get back?

You know I’m a terrible player.

[ He plucks up fragments of incense, some of them still smoldering, and scatters them back into the brazier, plink plink tink. ]

Have you considered keeping a diary?

I have a diary. And you know full well that I'm also a terrible player, so clearly the stakes will be as low as they can get.

This is a polite way of me signaling to you that I would prefer not to play cards.

[ The idea of pretending not to be able to read Athessa’s every hand after the week he’s had is challenging enough for him to drop the pretense. ]

But I am very interested in familiarizing myself with Dalish constellations by sight, if you’re available.

[ That’s rather unexpected. ]

Sure. I can wait ‘til you get back or I can come meet you, whichever you’d rather.

I'll contact you once I'm back at the Gallows.

Alright.

[ and then she waits ]

[ A red dusk has faded deep into to the purples and greys of twilight; the first stars are already pricking over the bay when Richard clips his way up the dock from the ferry. ]

I’ve returned.

[ -- out of the blue, but in the nick of time, so far as he’s concerned. ]

Shall I meet you atop the tower?

[ Just her luck, as soon as she dozes off is when he announces his return. She sits up and fumbles for the crystal. ]

Yep, yeah, 'course. Should I uh—

[ A pause that totally isn't a yawn, off-crystal. ]

Should I bring the usual stuff?

[ weed and blankies? ]

Please.

[ Weed and blankies: the only kind of tower night out worth having.

Into the tower, up the stairs, Richard makes a brief stop in his room to unload his satchel and to pick up a heavier cloak, a hat and blanket of his own.

He also brings a pie. ]

[ She gets there first, which isn't really a surprise because she was already on the fourth floor when he called.

But like a good friend she does wait for him to arrive before lighting up, offering him the first toke. ]

Is that a pie?

It smells like apple.

[ Are there even apples in Thedas?

Richard waves her off to smoke first, once he’s placed the pie down on the stonework between them. He has blankets to make a nest out of. ]

[ Smells like there are apples in that pie, at least. ]

Did you bring forks, too? I brought mead, but no glasses.

[ Though it seems like not having glasses for a drink is a less messy prospect than no utensils for a pie. ]

[ 3/4 the way through hunkering down into a blanketed slouch against the rampart, Richard leans to produce a moderately heavy dagger from the region of his hip, and drops it next to the pie -- deft, for a man with a splinted thumb. He doesn’t say ‘don’t be a coward.’

The arch look he sends after it says it for him. ]

Well alright, then.

[ She hunkers down beside him in her own blanket club uniform, keeping her hands free for puff puff passing.

So she puffs, puffs again, and passes the joint over to Richard. ]

Is our petit espion with us tonight?

[ Richard hisses an invitation under his breath, and Ribbon nudges out from his collar to see about it, a button of black at his throat that starts to emerge, feels the chill in the air, and seems to think better of it. She sinks s l o w l y back out of sight as Dick reaches from his blankets to take the offered joint. ]

Perhaps if we go in later, [ he says on her behalf, to assuage any disappointment before he tokes. ]

So, [ he says a beat later, still holding: ] The stars.

The stars, [ she nods and gestures skyward. ] They're up there.

[ There's yer problem right there. ]

Yes. [ They are.

Dick lets go with a short cough and a clearing of his throat, with a shorter puff to follow, and so on. After nearly a year, the act has become routine. ]

Had you already been smoking?

Nah. Earlier, yeah, but not recent enough to matter.

[ Back to the sky. ]

I think this time of year there's only three or four constellations we can see.

That’s alright.

[ He hands the joint back across. ]

Do humans defer to your existing arrangement, or have constellations of their own?

[ She scoffs and gives him a dubious look when she takes the doobie back. Doobius. ]

Nobody defers to elves for anything.

[ A drag, some smoke rings. ]

They renamed 'em and ignore that they were ever called anything else.

[ Richard can only incline his head in acknowledgement that yes, he probably should have anticipated that was the case. The cushion of his hat makes it easier for him to rest his noggin against the rampart at his back, and he settles in the rest of the way where he’s sat, with a blanket around his shoulders and another under his seat. ]

Elves have the original claim, do they not?

I think so, yeah. But most of our history's been lost.

[ She hands off the joint again so she can fetch up the knife, give it a cursory wipe-down, and use it to slice the pie into wedges. ]

So mostly we use the regular Trade names for them, but the pictures they make are different.

[ Somehow because I'm not gonna describe flinging bits of floppy pie everywhere, the slice of apple pie she picks up stays together and barely dribbles. ]

So Voyager is an aravel instead of a ship and the Stallion is a halla, and so on.

Typical, [ says Richard, tightly. Athessa hands the joint over to him, and he tokes where he’s reclined, with some late thought given over to easing up the buttons at his collar and down his jacket. It’s clumsier work than it should be with his splinted hand, but the movements are already practiced. Easy enough to work in some airflow while he looks to the sky.

He’s clapped eyes on an illustration or two before bringing himself up to the tower tonight. He’s even been up here before on his own.

Still, utilizing a local expert is faster and more comprehensive. ]

Are any of them used for navigation?

They are, [ she has to wait to answer until she's done chewing. ]

Probably kinda the same way sailors use them. I'm pretty sure all the mentions of being guided by the gods in the songs my clan would sing are in reference to the stars, not the actual gods.

[ Athessa points to a specific formation of stars, tracing the outline with her finger in the air. ]

That one, Shadow, is depicted as an owl sometimes, a hawk others. The owl was Elgar'nan's sacred companion, and the hawk was Andruil's messenger. That's uh...the All-Father — also known as the God of Vengeance — and the Goddess of the Hunt.

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tfw u realize u never posted the real tag

i thought i dreamt the other one