thehometree | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

| characters | Fenris & Open

| date/time | Evening, April 19th

| location | Entrance

| rating | Some warnings of scars and abuse.

| summary | Fenris does not approve of this place.

The wooden floor of the tree was hard, the wall uneven and rough. Yet he still leaned to it, his lkarge green eyes following the bright light in the middle of the room as if it could give him any answers. He was tensed, uncomfortable all the way down to his core, and there had been no lies to avoid, no battle to fight.

Just a ray of light... and that gem.

Wings. A dream to some, an enhancement worthy of a magister, to conquer the skies the sky itself. Not to him. To Fenris, it was nothing but a joke, a cruel reminder from someone with lousy humor. He had been so disgusted, seething in silence at the mockery of those markings. There might be no lyrium in them, but the pattern was a perfect match.

You're still flawed, scarred, branded.

Anger was easy. Rage was comfortable to turn to, and he had sent the gem flying towards the wall of the room, hoping it would shatter; maybe release the illusion from his mind. It proved quite impossible, however, and it didn't matter how many times he threw the gem away. It somehow returned to him again, and it was more than a little disconcerting.

It made his skin crawl.

Whoever put him here weren't showing themselves, which had the elf even more on edge. He didn't like being alone. Not any more. Hawke had already been gone for a long time, and he didn't want to be trapped in this illusion when the mage came back.

He wanted to be free.

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[She tilts her head.]

Like the wolf. Well, it's nice to meet you, Fenris.

[She's met enough Norse Gods not to be surprised. He certainly doesn't look Asgardian. Maybe a title rather than a name, or a world different enough that the connotations carried with it are entirely divorced from the concept she knows? Still, she drops her hand from where she'd held it out.]

You want the ten cent tour? I can always carry you. [A beat.] Might have to lose the armour, though.

Edited 2015-04-20 01:05 (UTC)

[Like the wolf. Those hands clench again, jaw setting as he works it through. The wolf. It still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and he forces himself to relax, to shift bare feet in a reminder that it wasn't 'little wolf', or 'pet'.]

No.

[He finally says, but reaches to rub the back of his head. Too sharp a reply to a seemingly kind offer, not matter the mention of removing his armor.]

...thank you.

[He adds, an afterthought of politeness that doesn't fit his voice.]

[Each thing he does, the words or the gestures, fill in the colour of his hard lines and sharp edges. He's hurt, alone-- mistreated almost certainly. Reminds her of a girl sh knew once upon a time. Age and experience have taught her the value of extending compassion.]

No one's saying you have to. But you'll get cold down here, and I don't think there's anything edible nearby. How do you feel about rope? I might be able to make a ladder...

[Rope. He could use that, it would work. It didn't even have to be a ladder, he could scale a knotted rope if he must.]

Why do you care?

[Direct, intense. What is she getting out of this?]

The way I see it, we're sort of all stuck here together. I don't know about you, but I'd rather make friends than enemies, huh?

[It's a spy thing. But then, the only people who know it are the Barneses and Peggy Carter.]

I'm... not good with friends.

[Not like this. Not in this place that echoed so loud of magic that he wondered if he wasn't in the Fade, swallowed up by those rifts that had appeared after the Breach.

Fenris relaxed his stance just a bit, trying to not grind his teeth in protest against this show of weakness. This was dangerous, not a sleepy inn with crumpled sheets and books that he slowly went through while he waited. (Worried.)

He felt hunted again, and that wasn't a good feeling.]

[Gently,]

We can work on that. If you're up for it.

With time.

[No promises. This was still easily a trap, a way to get close and then strike.

For now, he had little choice.]

[It's answer enough. She gives him a warmly delighted smile.]

In the meantime-- is there anything I can bring you? Blankets? Food?

[There it was again. Friendliness he didn't expect. He should be pleased, yet it kept him at edge.

It probably wouldn't smooth out any time soon, even if he'd will it.]

I don't need anything.

Well, maybe you don't. But suppose I was going to do the neighborly thing and bring something anyway, girl could use a few ideas.

[She wishes Clint were here, sometimes. He's better at this sort of thing than she is. He's the one that can gather up the errant strays, convince them of his words and their own worth. She doesn't lack in compassion, but hers has a harder edge.]

I have water. I'm not sure I'd trust the food.

[It was a bit chilly, however, even in his armor. Fenris rubs the red cloth around his wrist, trying to draw some strength to make decisions.]

...a blanket, then.

[Something easy. No deals, no price to pay.]

[There we go.]

All right. Wait here?

[Well, he's probably not going anywhere else. One final smile, and then she steps away from him and pulls the night gem out of her pocket. At the touch of her skin, she gains a set of red-black wings, and after a few light steps she tosses herself into the air. She manages a curious sort of grace to her flight that suggests more than just a month's practice with the wings. Anna Orlova, she'd decided, has a ballerina's grace. Easier to hide in plain sight.

She's not gone long. Enough to gather up some food and a blanket. She steals a pillow, too, from her own quarters and makes her way back with the bundle, which she holds out for him as she lands. The food is wrapped up inside the blanket in a small leaf.]

[She uses those wings so easily and it makes the hairs of the back of his neck stand on edge. It was graceful but... unnerving. Everyone here seemed to accept magic like it was nothing. Where was the caution, the subtle fear?

Fenris isn't sure if he's actually waiting for her or just stubbornly loitering in the damn foyer of the giant tree like one of the nobles back at the viscount's in Kirkwall - but he looks up again when 'Anna' comes back. He was about to shift himself into a defensive stance once more when he notices the woman arrives with a bundle of things.]

...more than a blanket, I see.

[A bit of a smile.]

Just a little. You don't have to use anything you don't want to, it was more of a... 'just in case'.

[He... liked that. No pressure, but the choice was there. He could deal with something like that. It was easier.]

Thank you.

[He says again, not as tense, not as angry. Still haunted.]

[She also has a length of rope looped across her chest like a bandolier. That gets pulled off over her head (tangled briefly with her hair, it takes an honest effort to extricate herself) and held out.]

I've been making these in my spare time. If you need an air taxi you can just ask on the piece of amber in your bag, I'm sure someone won't mind helping. Helps to avoid the whole wing issue, at least.

[He reaches to take the rope, running his fingers over the woven material. This might be his saving grace to this place.]

I... why would you do this much for me? I'm a stranger.

Everybody starts a stranger.

[She fiddles with the hem of her shirt. To casual inspection it looks like a nervous tick, though it's nothing of the sort.]

And as far as I'm concerned, we're all stuck here together. The more we can figure out, the sooner we can get home.

Fair enough.

[There's a small hint of a smile, even if it doesn't fully reach his eyes.}

Thank you.

Not a problem.

[A cheery little smile-- though after a moment it turns wry.]

I don't have to sample the food in front of you for you to believe it's not poisoned, right?

I was just going to feed it to one of the insects, first.

[The slightly amused look in his eyes may mean it was a joke.]

[She rolls her eyes and, in a slightly exasperated tone,]

Fine. We'll have a tea party. You're lucky I didn't find a tiara, because you would definitely be wearing it about now.

[That was all mildly confusing, but he'll deal. In all honestly, he was getting hungry, but... he just couldn't trust. Not yet.]

I'll make do without finery.

[Instead he opens the food package.]

[She just scouts around for somewhere that'll be out of the way of any potential foot traffic and sits cross-legged in one smooth motion.]

Well you don't have much choice in the matter. There isn't much here. And I don't really think there's enough food to go around. It seems we're always short on something. My roommate and I, we-- ah, killed a squirrel a while back so we've got plenty of meat, [a nod to the package, there is in fact squirrel jerky in there] but without it-- we'd probably be going a lot hungrier.