Cade's Inbox

[onlyhymns]

[For personal threads, memos, things left in his quarters for him to stumble on, confessions of love, injunctions, jars of bees, and so forth.]

Comments

[shortly after the Emprise fiasco]

[onlyhymns]

Alistair was leaving with Beleth, and Cade watched them go, his posture hunched and worried as he avoided looking at Nerva. There was blood on his gauntlet from where he'd struck the elf, and he eyed it queasily; he had never so badly wanted to scour his armor. Or himself.

A few passersby had stopped to watch the event unfold, but now that both of the parties involved had been separated and calmed, there wasn't much more to see. He was aware that a few were still staring at him, however, with fear or derision or amusement or some combination thereof, and the knowledge made him even more miserable. He wanted to hide, scrape all his skin off, and maybe die, in no particular order.

[keeperofmagi]

She didn't speak for a long time, just marched him onward, the scowl on her face more than enough to keep anyone from approaching them or attempting to talk to them. She stopped at her tent and pointed inside.

"In."

[his and Korrin's tent, after the Emprise fiasco]

[onlyhymns]

Cade doesn't announce himself, but barges right in, red-eyed and blushing up to his ears. There's a shadow of another person outside the tent flap, standing and waiting as he begins to hurriedly collect his meager belongings.

A cursory glance is sent to Korrin, but he quickly looks away, appearing as though he'd like this encounter to be over with as soon as possible.

[time this whenever it makes sense for Cade's ICness]

[colecomfort]

It's difficult getting close to Cade. The worst part of it is, he doesn't think he deserves help from anyone other than the Maker, and sometimes not even then. That's what makes it hard for Cole to get close. People can't be helped without their permission.

But things shift. People change on their own, sometimes, gradually. A break in the clouds, however small, and light will be allowed to pass. Even if it's something as simple as wanting to be better.

Cole hears the whisper of Cade's thoughts from across the courtyard, and goes to find him.

[onlyhymns]

Cade has been pretty much a beacon of misery for the last month or so. He is constantly embarrassed and stressed out from being supervised at all hours by near strangers, most of whom are younger or ranked lower than himself.
When Cole finds him, he's eating lunch, alone save for his chaperone, at one of the tables near the kitchen. He looks up at the boy, wondering where he's seen him before, and immediately going on his guard; judging by his two black eyes, he has reason to fear everyone who approaches him of late.

[arlathvhen]

[ Some time after the Cade Incident: Part 2 Electric Boogaloo, a letter is slipped under Cade's door. ]

[crystal]

[arlathvhen]

Cade, do you know Obi-Wan Kenobi?

[onlyhymns]

...is.... that a dessert?

action.

[byblow]

[ We're starting in medias res here, because Alistair wouldn't actually plop down next to Cade and start a conversation this way. He plops down next to him and talks about porridge, instead, which leads naturally into talking about bogs and how horrible it is to have peat in your boots, and then, somehow, to the feasibility of building a ramp -- a slide -- off the side of Skyhold and into the valley.

But once that tapers off and there's a pause long enough for Alistair to think serious thoughts, despite all of his effort to avoid them, he says: ] How long did you stay at the abbey after I left?

[onlyhymns]

[Porridge is all right, as long as there's brown sugar and walnuts and stuff in it. There is nothing worse than bland food. Anything in your boots is horrible, and we probably shouldn't build a slide like that because everyone who used it would die.

Oh, and well, there's this.]

Um... a couple more years. [He pauses to think.] I was one of the last to be placed.

[crystal]

[arlathvhen]

[ Beleth's voice tries for her usual calm composure, but there's a definite strain, and tiredness. ]

Are you busy? I want to talk to you--it's not bad. I want to do something nice for Alistair, and I'd like your help.

[onlyhymns]

Hm? Oh. Um. Sure. [He sounds a bit confused, but not unwilling.]

Crystal

[judgemewhole]

Ser Harrimann, I wish to see you in the courtyard today after drills. Senior Warden Howe wishes to speak to you about the incident with Anders, and I am to be there as witness.

[onlyhymns]

[Naturally, he sounds terrified.]

...yes, ser.

[elegiaque]

( Her first thought is to send for him. When informed he has been confined to quarters, she instead sends a maidservant ahead with tea for two and to inform him that a lady will shortly be joining him if he wishes to make himself presentable. In the way of Orlesian lady's maids, Yva rather strongly implies he ought.

But whether he does or not, shortly thereafter Lady Vauquelin arrives, ushered by a footman, taking in what she sees before her. Mmm. )

Ser, ( pleasantly, ) you'll have to forgive my presumptuous intrusion, but it's essential that we speak. I am the Seeker Darton's cousin - I wish very much to help you both.

Shall we discuss the Inquisition?

[onlyhymns]

[Obedient to the end, Cade has put on his best clothes and combed his hair back, even if the rest of him still looks like he's about to crawl into a hole and die. His face is patchy and his eyes red from various bouts of trying not to cry and failing, and though he stands up straight to greet Gwen when he enters, something about him still seems small and cringing.]

My lady, [he hoarsely replies, clearly not ready to be social, but in no position to make his own plans.]

[crystal]

[unbrokenoath]

Harimann! Bro. Bruh. My dude. Tell me about your Dalish buddies.

[onlyhymns]

[He sounds like she startled him half to death.] What? What??

[the docks; sometime towards the end of November]

[ragweed]

It's a dull, cold evening sometime after dusk, when there's still enough light to see the world around you, but no vibrancy. That suits Kit just fine, frankly; given the state he's in, he's not sure he wants to know what bright light on his bruised, bloody face would really look like.

He's sitting on a crate near the ferryman's pier, blotting gingerly at his split eyebrow and lip while thinking about his life and his choices. (Things have not been great recently, and while he's done an admirable job of keeping the midden heap of his private life separate from his work, things are invariably going to start bleeding over soon. (He can't afford to lose his superiors' good opinion of his work--not after what that Vint kid just went through.) He's got a lit cigarette in the hand not pressing the stained cloth to his face.

[onlyhymns]

Myr hasn't been around to do any scribing for-- Cade would have gone with him on the mission, but everyone agreed it would be better if he stayed home and didn't become further traumatized. In the interim, he's been helping out at the docks, enjoying the mindless, anonymous work that makes him too tired to pay his usual racing thoughts much mind.
He doesn't normally stop for people, or even look at them, but as Cade makes his way home, a nearby silhouette strikes him as familiar. Taking a few tentative steps forward, he's able to ascertain who it is and be appropriately alarmed.

"Kit!" he breathes, taking in the state of his face.

these fries, motherfucker! (post blue flu boogaloo)

[nadasharillen]

It had been two weeks since a lyrium-tinted and slowly shattering Simon had asked her to check in on Cade. Since she'd hurried to collect a few of the potions Colin had made and walked quickly through the cold and snow to the Templar barracks, her mouth a contrite line. She'd been so wrapped up in herself, reveling in her bleak self-destruction, that she had hardly noticed the spread of the disease... and who it had spread to.

So Nari had come day after day most mornings, the nights when Simon was gone. More blankets, fewer blankets, cold compresses, sleeping draughts, lyrium. She had been servants, Chantry Sisters, once Beleth, twice herself, hardly ever remembered. Often she'd find him entirely insensible, but she came, said whatever it seemed the man wracked with fever needed to hear to be able to sleep, and kept watch. As she wore down with running, with sleep of her own snatched in bits and pieces in corners, the path between the Gallows docks, the infirmary, the barracks, wherever she slept that night became thoughtless and automatic.

Which is why this morning, when the quarantine lifted, she hardly stopped to knock before admitting herself to the room Simon and Cade were sharing, a weary but still spirited invitation on her lips.

"I thought maybe, since the--oh."

all rise, motherfucker

[onlyhymns]

After this dark fucking period, in which Cade needed more blankets AND less blankets, he is finally able to stay cognizant throughout the full day. But being that he was in such a state for so long, so ramped up and so exhausted and unable to remember when he'd last eaten or drank, there's a lot of convalescence to do in which he just rests and eats and tries not to think too hard about the things he experienced.
When Nari enters the room, Cade offers her a weak little smile and sits up in bed, setting his book off to one side. He's enough returned to himself that he's embarrassed to lounging around when a visitor's here, especially a female one, but is drained enough that he almost doesn't care for once.

[post korrinchats]

[nadasharillen]

Nari knows when Myr takes lunch, ergo, theoretically, Nari knows when Cade takes lunch (her guess being slightly after Myr). It is at this theoretical time that she appears at the door to the office, her hair still slightly damp from a quick post-spar scrub, to knock softly on the frame.

[onlyhymns]

Cade doesn't take lunch for very long, so he's already back at it by the time there's a knock on the door, but all the more reason to go answer it. With a stack of papers under one arm, he pulls it open and looks a little surprised to see her there.

early bloomingtide, right after she's back from the chantry mission

[nadasharillen]

[The wildflowers outside of Kirkwall have begun to bloom, and one unremarkable day (save, perhaps, that Nari and Saoirse returned from the Western Approach that morning) there are a few stems of them in a little jar of water on Cade's desk, placed out of the way of any of the tools of his current trade, when he arrives for work.]

crystal; during the Arlathvhen

[nadasharillen]

[ one late evening, with no context or introduction, and sounding a little more conflicted than the statement might usually warrant: ]

It's my birthday.

bursts in with shirt open

[onlyhymns]

It--

[She caught him off-guard, but he's alert now.]

It is? Happy birthday.

action, sometime.

[exequy]

[ Just in case Cade’s week had been going too well for comfort, at some point he’ll find Kostos outside the door to wherever he works, at the very edge of the light cast by the braziers in the corridors, arms crossed and scowling at nothing.

That quickly becomes scowling at Cade instead. ]

Hariman?

[ You can hear the misspelling—not in his pronunciation, which is Nevarran but fine, just in his I don’t want to be here or care what your name is actually tone. ]

[onlyhymns]

[Cade emerges holding a stack of papers, which he nearly drops when he startles at the sight of someone lurking in the shadows. Is that--? It is. One of the mages who led the strike.]

...yes? [He's on his guard already.]