Vie (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gotyourwallet) wrote2011-10-27 12:34 am
gotyourwallet) wrote2011-10-27 12:34 am
[ 008 ] [ Audio | Commentlog ]
[When Vie speaks, her voice is quiet, words more to herself than anyone else. In the background a man's voice, or rather that of a pumpkin, pleads with her to kill him.]
You look the part, but you are not him.
[It's been a long time since Vie's let herself cry, and be damned if she does so now. To the pumpkin she continues:]
In asking for death, you dishonor him. I'll not have his blood on my hands a second time.
[That's right Vie. You tell that pumpkin. :|b
She stands, breathes a sigh and this time, directly addresses those in the Keep.]
How is it that they know who matters? Perhaps this is a punishment. The past dragged forward to remind us of what we've lost or where we've failed.
[A beat. Vie starts her way away from the pumpkin, choosing to turn away from the carved face of her fallen master rather than give in to it's plea.]
Stay out of my head, Deior.
[The book snaps shut, thus putting an end to her entry.]
You look the part, but you are not him.
[It's been a long time since Vie's let herself cry, and be damned if she does so now. To the pumpkin she continues:]
In asking for death, you dishonor him. I'll not have his blood on my hands a second time.
[That's right Vie. You tell that pumpkin. :|b
She stands, breathes a sigh and this time, directly addresses those in the Keep.]
How is it that they know who matters? Perhaps this is a punishment. The past dragged forward to remind us of what we've lost or where we've failed.
[A beat. Vie starts her way away from the pumpkin, choosing to turn away from the carved face of her fallen master rather than give in to it's plea.]
Stay out of my head, Deior.
[The book snaps shut, thus putting an end to her entry.]
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[Shhh it was embarrassing.]
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[Not on the journals where everyone can hear, perhaps?]
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[Just embarrassing.]
We can if you'd like.
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[She's heading that way anyway.]
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[Just give him a minute to haul himself out of his little hole of a room.]
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[If she looks lost in thought, he just looks tired. It's been a long week or... however long it's been since the pumpkins started speaking.]
Is this a bad time...?
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As good a time as any. Come, sit. You look as though you could use the rest.
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[He'll take the seat then, propping his staff up next to him.]
Your legs are well? Nothing still hurting?
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I'm fine, Anders. Don't worry about me.
[She watches him carefully.]
What happened?
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[He just looks embarrassed.]
I... may have temporarily forgotten the limitations this Keep places on magic. That's all.
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[She spares him more staring and looks back to the unlit fireplace.]
Were you hurt?
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[He just leans forward, elbows on his knees.]
My pride suffered a fatal blow, but otherwise, no. I'm not hurt. I... [A long silence.] I fell asleep. Nothing more.
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Were there any others involved?
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[Which bodes ill.]
My... My friend. A friend. He was there at the time... Why?
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[Yes mage, she's including you in that.]
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Hawke wasn't involved. If he had been, you likely would have heard about it already.
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You're quick to assume I was referring to Hawke.
[It is however a relief to hear that he wasn't involved.]
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[And Hawke is usually getting into the thick of everything -- granted, it's not usually his choice to, but still.]