[IC/OOC] Fade Rift Inbox & Contact

[faithlikeaseed]

(( Need to get a hold of Myr? Drop him a line. Notes, in-person visits, sending crystals, spooky Fade dream shenanigans, you name it. Just specify the type of contact in the first comment of the thread and away we go.

Need to get a hold of the player? Plagueheart#0051 @ Discord or a DW PM is the easiest! ))

Comments

[faithlikeaseed]

[Right. Drop that line of conversation, quick.] Absolutely monstrous. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if the Qunari were trying to warn you about the cats because they're off eating kittens and the mothers have gone into a vengeful rage.

Maybe see if they've got recipes; bet you could use anything meant for kitten on nug instead.

[A small sigh.] Ah, damn. Wish I could be there for that. [Though it would be better, of course, if he could see them.]

Maybe. That would be really interesting, if one was built atop the other; moreso if they were contemporary.

... ... You're all right, other than the sunburn? [He'd been trying to replace his worry with enthusiasm; that failed.]

[misdirection_hex]

Really, now. There's no reason to think the Qun says anything about eating kittens. And of course if it doesn't, they wouldn't. [His objections to the Qun come from an entirely different angle than Myr's do, but they can meet in the middle and enjoy the condemnation together.]

You'd really want to see Andrastian monuments built overtop of elven ones? [It's dangerous territory to venture into, especially on what was meant to be a lighthearted call just to chat, but that's never stopped Vandelin from saying anything he pleased before.

But he does feel guilty about it, in the face of his cousin's solicitousness. He regroups, silently contrite.] Never mind. I'm fine, I promise. Plenty of fresh water and fruit to eat and all of that.

[faithlikeaseed]

[That question stops him cold. He's got to take a deep breath in and let it back out again before the sick feeling of guilt ebbs enough he can speak; hadn't he taken Ser Ashlock to task over how awful that sort of erasure was, not more than a month ago?

And here he is, prattling on--] In the sense it's part of the historical record now, I'm interested in learning about it. In the sense it's part of the Chantry's erasing who our people once were--no, I'm not happy about that. It shouldn't have happened.

And when I'd said otherwise in the past, I--was wrong.

[He can't leave it at never mind when it cuts him to the quick like that. The words are maybe a little defensive, but Van's got the right of it. Myr will admit as much.]

Good. I'll not have you eaten by a giant squid or nibbled to death by kittens now that I've found you again. [...That was...more than he'd meant to say but it's true and there's not any taking it back.]

[misdirection_hex]

["I was wrong" are three of the sweetest words in the entire Trade language to Vandelin, second only to "you were right," and both of those preferable to "I love you." That last is not something he and Myr are in the habit of saying to each other in any case, not explicitly, and certainly not recently--not in the past three years, obviously, and not in the tense months leading to the uprising, and that's far enough back that Van can't remember any specific examples before it.

But he knows when Myr means it, recognizes it instantly when he hears it, and even if Myr had meant to keep it closer to the vest--as Van would have advised him to, as Van wants to do even now--he's moved enough by it to be stricken briefly silent. There's not a word of that lost on him, and the implication that Myr had wanted to find him again--had been willing to seek him out, had thought of him as lost rather than willfully abandoning his family, had thought of him at all, overcomes him with emotion. It isn't that he hadn't done the same, missing Myr and worrying for him and hoping against helpless secular hope that he was alive and safe, but for some reason, he hadn't known for sure it would be reciprocated.]

...yeah, well. I've been the brains of this setup for twenty-five years. You need me. I wouldn't leave you in the lurch. [Not again, his unfamiliar guilty conscience whispers.]

You stay safe, and I will too. I'll be back before you know it.

[faithlikeaseed]

[It's true, for all Myr still hasn't worked out how to forgive Van for what happened. And like any truth there's a vulnerability in it; he knows it, knows how Van would advise him here--if, apparently, the admission hadn't shut his cousin down completely.

He's not sure if that's a good sign; sits twisting his sending crystal between his fingers as he considers what he's just confessed to and awaits a response.

That it slots so comfortably into their old disrupted patterns gets a huff of a laugh out of him.]

Yeah, yeah. Don't know how I got on without you for the last three years. [He struggles to keep the words light and dry and teasing; the pain still stains them like blood on cloth. It's several moments' work to swallow it before it can blossom into an accusation.] Besides I ought to know better--you'd be too much for even a squid to stomach. You'd hex its guts right out of it for having the gall.

But I won't be making any trips to Darktown while you're out, promise; I'll stick to the chapel instead and beseech the Maker for fair winds and safe travel for you. Just--don't be so safe you can't have an adventure out there, too. [Because that's what freedom means, doesn't it?]