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Maker. That’s good, [ corrects: ] Awful? Awful good? D’you think it’d still be edible?
[ He’s seen dogs eat their puke, but dracolisks - maybe that’s a question for the new animal man ]
I was gonna say smaller dracolisks.
[ He’s seen dogs eat their puke, but dracolisks - maybe that’s a question for the new animal man ]
I was gonna say smaller dracolisks.
Smaller, and smaller. Then smaller, and smaller still. Until it gets so small you can hardly see it, gotta get spectacles to tell -
[ drumroll: ]
Then spaghetti.
[ drumroll: ]
Then spaghetti.
Agreed, a verbal handshake and a smile somehow transmitted across the crystals—followed by some finicky directions, landmarks, and so on.
The Anvil itself is settled on a corner, making it easy to find, and has a sort of top-heavy, slightly sunken feel to it, set a few steps down from the street if one were to go through the front doors. As promised, though, there's a painted gate off to the side with a rattly lock currently left open, and wooden steps curling up to the second storey. The heavy wooden door that leads inside is currently wedged open, and here, a hallway,
it's all clearly rather small and cheap, but not destitute. Of the three doors available, with the middle one clearly leading down to the tavern, Abby was told to knock on the third.
Beyond the door behind her, a dog immediately activates, yapping.
But the one she's at swings open, Loxley smiling and beckoning her inside. Again, small and cheap, but there's a nice rug on the ground, clean if faded in patches. There's a wood-burning stove in the corner, currently low-burning and warm. A slightly low-slung bed in the opposite corner, roughly made. Empty wine bottles, dried flowers decorate the windowsill. Cushions, curtains, a heavy trunk, a little clutter. A couple of chairs, a table, a jar with a wisp in it.
A wisp that drifts up, glows a little brighter than before. Loxley is saying, "Easy enough to find?" as he latches the door to hold it closed, and doesn't fuss with wat are altogether too many locks on a surprisingly sturdy frame.
The Anvil itself is settled on a corner, making it easy to find, and has a sort of top-heavy, slightly sunken feel to it, set a few steps down from the street if one were to go through the front doors. As promised, though, there's a painted gate off to the side with a rattly lock currently left open, and wooden steps curling up to the second storey. The heavy wooden door that leads inside is currently wedged open, and here, a hallway,
it's all clearly rather small and cheap, but not destitute. Of the three doors available, with the middle one clearly leading down to the tavern, Abby was told to knock on the third.
Beyond the door behind her, a dog immediately activates, yapping.
But the one she's at swings open, Loxley smiling and beckoning her inside. Again, small and cheap, but there's a nice rug on the ground, clean if faded in patches. There's a wood-burning stove in the corner, currently low-burning and warm. A slightly low-slung bed in the opposite corner, roughly made. Empty wine bottles, dried flowers decorate the windowsill. Cushions, curtains, a heavy trunk, a little clutter. A couple of chairs, a table, a jar with a wisp in it.
A wisp that drifts up, glows a little brighter than before. Loxley is saying, "Easy enough to find?" as he latches the door to hold it closed, and doesn't fuss with wat are altogether too many locks on a surprisingly sturdy frame.
Think they’ve got other names, when they're other sizes. Not copying if it's spaghettiny.
"Yup," Abby says. She's not looking at him she's looking at his room, this little place and all the lived-in clutter that makes it unique to him. Everybody in Riftwatch has more or less the same furniture, the standard issue bed frame with slouchy straw mattress, the one pillow so you have to try a little harder to make it look like yours. Loxley has done a good job. She likes the dried flowers on the windowsill. The light from the stove skips through the wine bottles and throws tiny yellow slivers all over the rug.
The wisp is bobbing around in the jar as she comes in properly, getting out of the way to allow Loxley better access to the lock-festooned door. Having that many seems like a safety hazard in the other direction; what if you need to get out quickly?
She bends to examine the jar.
"Is this it?"
... Are you supposed to call a wisp an it??
The wisp is bobbing around in the jar as she comes in properly, getting out of the way to allow Loxley better access to the lock-festooned door. Having that many seems like a safety hazard in the other direction; what if you need to get out quickly?
She bends to examine the jar.
"Is this it?"
... Are you supposed to call a wisp an it??
If I say yes, and turns out you've been hiding some witch claw -
[ he lifts his anchor hand, turning it over in the gloom,
splays it into a claw ]
Boo.
[ that's definitely not the sound witches make ]
splays it into a claw ]
Boo.
[ that's definitely not the sound witches make ]
Shit - [ starts laughing, starts wheezing for the laugh, ] - You hexed me.
Something about the night is twisted when Clarisse is away from the Gallows.
Ellie can never sleep, so she doesn't try. Instead she haunts the Gallows grounds, tracking the obvious shadow of the guard up on the walls, the one she recognizes instantly without considering what time it is or who's on shift.
Not that she didn't know exactly who was on shift tonight. Maybe that's not... better.
Ellie shows up like a ghost on the crenellations near the stairs, her hands bundled in her pockets and looking way too much like an intruder for comfort, especially in the dimly lit stairwell.
"S'up?" she says, which may be the least threatening greeting, and hopefully enough to tip Abby off that she isn't about to get murdered.
Ellie can never sleep, so she doesn't try. Instead she haunts the Gallows grounds, tracking the obvious shadow of the guard up on the walls, the one she recognizes instantly without considering what time it is or who's on shift.
Not that she didn't know exactly who was on shift tonight. Maybe that's not... better.
Ellie shows up like a ghost on the crenellations near the stairs, her hands bundled in her pockets and looking way too much like an intruder for comfort, especially in the dimly lit stairwell.
"S'up?" she says, which may be the least threatening greeting, and hopefully enough to tip Abby off that she isn't about to get murdered.
Abby swears and fumbles her mace, knocking the handle into the wall with a dull thunk. Straightening up she hisses, "I almost hit you."
It's the end of a long shift. She's been up here for hours; Forces has been spread thin across the Gallows and partly into Kirkwall, thanks to their recent disaster. Abby doesn't mind pulling her weight but guard duty is deeply fucking boring and officially her least favourite task. Grants so much time to stand around and think.
She squints at Ellie's shadow, only just visible where it hovers by the top of the stairs. "What are you doing up here?"
Ellie isn't taking her place for the rest of the night, is she? Abby's pretty much done her time.
It's the end of a long shift. She's been up here for hours; Forces has been spread thin across the Gallows and partly into Kirkwall, thanks to their recent disaster. Abby doesn't mind pulling her weight but guard duty is deeply fucking boring and officially her least favourite task. Grants so much time to stand around and think.
She squints at Ellie's shadow, only just visible where it hovers by the top of the stairs. "What are you doing up here?"
Ellie isn't taking her place for the rest of the night, is she? Abby's pretty much done her time.
Ellie doesn't even flinch. The moonlight hits her eyes, making them reflect a little before she snorts.
"I mean, you coulda tried," she answers with a shrug, and glances back down the stairs. She thinks about lying.
Decides against it. Abby gets her honesty.
"Clarisse is still away, can't sleep. Though I'd come see what you were up to."
"I mean, you coulda tried," she answers with a shrug, and glances back down the stairs. She thinks about lying.
Decides against it. Abby gets her honesty.
"Clarisse is still away, can't sleep. Though I'd come see what you were up to."
"I know I can hit you," Abby says, shrugging. Is this what they do now? Come and see what the other is up to? She doesn't... hate it, actually. Especially when Clarisse is out of the Gallows and she's barely spoken with anyone else today.
"You're in luck." She's coming over to her, strapping her mace back into its holster. Noting that odd, shadowy look about her, the stars reflected in her eyes. It's starting to get warmer out at night, not enough to be comfortable in anything without sleeves, but enough that she doesn't have to layer up, maybe wear a hat. It's good. "Just finished my shift. I need food."
"You're in luck." She's coming over to her, strapping her mace back into its holster. Noting that odd, shadowy look about her, the stars reflected in her eyes. It's starting to get warmer out at night, not enough to be comfortable in anything without sleeves, but enough that she doesn't have to layer up, maybe wear a hat. It's good. "Just finished my shift. I need food."
"You could still try," Ellie answers, raising both of her eyebrows at Abby, a little serious, but also not. She likes that they mess with each other like this, even if it's probably unfunny as hell to anyone else.
"... yeah, I should probably eat something too," she concedes, frowning to herself as she tries to think of the last time she ate. Huh.
She trails Abby, at her side and just a step back. Almost with her and yet not quite. Habit almost, watching her braid sway against her back.
"Dunno how you stay awake for these."
"... yeah, I should probably eat something too," she concedes, frowning to herself as she tries to think of the last time she ate. Huh.
She trails Abby, at her side and just a step back. Almost with her and yet not quite. Habit almost, watching her braid sway against her back.
"Dunno how you stay awake for these."
"I kinda write books in my head," she confesses, folding her arms across her chest as they take the stairs back down. Is that weird...? Whatever. It helps the time pass. "But I heard that some people are getting double shifts. If that happens to me, I'll scream."
That's a threat.
It's hard not to feel a little bitter about this arrangement. It's all over the place and Abby feels like Forces is flagging as they wait for somebody to step up and into Flint's place. Diplomacy is fairing the exact same. Riftwatch doesn't feel as strong as it did when Abby joined. It's been making her weirdly antsy, kinda pissed off.
That's a threat.
It's hard not to feel a little bitter about this arrangement. It's all over the place and Abby feels like Forces is flagging as they wait for somebody to step up and into Flint's place. Diplomacy is fairing the exact same. Riftwatch doesn't feel as strong as it did when Abby joined. It's been making her weirdly antsy, kinda pissed off.
"That's a good way to get yourself reassigned."
By Ellie's tone that doesn't sound like something she disapproves of.
When Abby confesses what she does for one, Ellie's head snaps to the side, her eyes narrowing into a frown, both confused and desperately fucking curious.
"Okay, but what are the books about?"
By Ellie's tone that doesn't sound like something she disapproves of.
When Abby confesses what she does for one, Ellie's head snaps to the side, her eyes narrowing into a frown, both confused and desperately fucking curious.
"Okay, but what are the books about?"
"Maybe I wanna get reassigned." You don't know her.
She gives Ellie a funny look to cover up the fact that she's thinking about how much to confess to, exactly. "I dunno. Just — historical stuff, I guess. From back home I mean. Like Jane Eyre."
A plain girl, battling life's struggles? Um, relatable.
She gives Ellie a funny look to cover up the fact that she's thinking about how much to confess to, exactly. "I dunno. Just — historical stuff, I guess. From back home I mean. Like Jane Eyre."
A plain girl, battling life's struggles? Um, relatable.
"Where to? Scouting?"
Ellie lifts her eyebrows, then frowns again, giving Abby a long look.
"Jane Eyre?"
She doesn't just sound dubious. She might not even know what that is.
Ellie lifts her eyebrows, then frowns again, giving Abby a long look.
"Jane Eyre?"
She doesn't just sound dubious. She might not even know what that is.
"No," she deadpans, eyeballing Ellie right back. "To Diplomacy, cuz I'm a people person."
Har har. She's not gonna say that if she did have to pick another division to be in she would probably pick Scouting... Not when Ellie has just handed a chance to discuss Jane Eyre to her on a plate.
"It's about this girl who grows up with her aunt after she's orphaned. Her aunt's awful and she lives in this shitty charity home with a bunch of other kids but when she's old enough to leave she finds work as a governess, which is a good thing. But then she falls in love with her boss, and discovers a dark secret about him. And she basically has to decide if she's gonna stick around or not."
Har har. She's not gonna say that if she did have to pick another division to be in she would probably pick Scouting... Not when Ellie has just handed a chance to discuss Jane Eyre to her on a plate.
"It's about this girl who grows up with her aunt after she's orphaned. Her aunt's awful and she lives in this shitty charity home with a bunch of other kids but when she's old enough to leave she finds work as a governess, which is a good thing. But then she falls in love with her boss, and discovers a dark secret about him. And she basically has to decide if she's gonna stick around or not."
"What, you don't want to be in charge of matters of state?" She asks, flashing a grin then tilting her head to listen.
She sounds very interested up until the girl has the shitty sense to fall in love with her boss. Ugh.
"Well, what was the dark secret?"
She sounds very interested up until the girl has the shitty sense to fall in love with her boss. Ugh.
"Well, what was the dark secret?"
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