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.]

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[ragweed]

Finishing a fight with some Darktown toughs is different from starting a fight with the Inquisition's own personnel. Kit gives the back of the guy's departing head a sour look, but at Cade's gesture steps inside the barracks. The interior of the place is pleasantly familiar, at least in its vibe; smelling of sweat is certainly better than the reek of darkspawn ichor, so Kit has no complaints.

At least, none about the smell. He grimaces and reaches up a hand to touch his bruised face. "I really should get cleaned up," he mumbles.

[onlyhymns]

It is, if nothing else, a place where people live. Cade doesn't love it, but beggars can't be choosers.
"There's a washbasin there," he says, motioning to a table that holds a low bowl of water though he then walks to his bed and stoops to take something out from under it.
Withdrawing a small wooden box, Cade opens it to reveal a jar of salve and clean cloth bandages. Though it's difficult to bandage a face without wrapping them all the way around someone's head, he does extend the salve, a little sheepishly.

[ragweed]

He makes use of the wash basin to get the worst of the blood off of his skin; some of it needs to scab over, and could probably benefit from Anders' ministrations, but it's doubtful Kit will go see him, at least for this. (He's stitched his own injuries once before, he can do it again.)

"Thanks," he says once he's come back to Cade and, having mopped his face dry with the end of his shirt, takes the salve. He leans against the foot of the bed and applies it to his injuries with only the most sparing of grimaces.

[onlyhymns]

Well, should Kit decide to see Anders, Cade certainly won't be the one to take him there. He stands awkwardly by while the dwarf administers to his wounds, periodically shooting him an anxious glance, his lips pursed with self-consciousness.
A few people have begun to look at them, but in the casually disinterested way of those sharing a space. Maybe the quiet guy brought someone home for a good time, but the time doesn't look that good.

[ragweed]

Kit notices the handful of glances that they receive, and distantly wonders whether word if this is going to make its way back to the Gallows proper, and to Beleth. Briefly he grimaces, finishes applying the salve to his injuries, then closes the canister and hands it back over.

"Not a lot of space to yourself here," he notes thoughtfully. It's an observation rather than a judgment, though there's something in his voice that seems to ask, 'you okay?' Even when he's the one in need of an intervention, it's still so much easier to turn his concern to others, rather than tolerate it for long directed at himself.

[onlyhymns]

Though never one to shirk from silence, Cade seems glad of the comment. His laugh is awkward nonetheless.
"No, ah..." he stammers, "...well, I had more. Before." But things are different now. A little worse.