therookery | (no subject)

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FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Herian Amsel
RECIPIENT: everyone with a crystal
WHAT: Deep Thoughts & Dogges
WHEN: during Nevarra stuff, prior to the dragon hunt & Necropolis Thriller Reenactment.
WHERE: Nevaaaarra
NOTES: content warning for themes of loss & death. Also just a heads up that Herian is (still) a big jerk about the Dalish and rebels/eager apostates

Inquisition,

( she starts, and then there is a moment of pause. Her accent is stronger than it was before her trip to Starkhaven, renewed by proximity even if it has already softened from what it had been there. She speaks with that same, inevitable control, but she does not sound quite the same type of calm as usual. )

How do you best honour the dead? Recently or long departed. I would be glad to know.

( Just a casual question, nbd.

She sure doesn't sound like "glad" should be a description of her ever, but maybe given the content she can be forgiven. There's a small bark, and though it cannot be seen, rest assured that Herian is frowning at the source. There is a measured pause, before Herian adds, )

And if any could advise me what to do with a small canine that sees fit to prance about wherever I go, I'd be grateful.

( Quietly exasperated, to the dog as she moves to end the post, ) You're too short for the stairs. Accept it.

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Ah. [ he says, because that’s what you say when you need a minute to determine what you might. at last: ] Would you have returned, twelve years ago, if you could have? When he died, did you seek to be discovered?

[ they’re honest questions, for all they might appear to lead. he’d not have gone home — had been eager to leave, to learn.

the man he’s most wanted dead is difficult to imagine so now. ]

Discovered? What do you mean? He was murdered by the Dalish, but it was for want of helping me. My magic lead him to seek out ways to prevent my going to the Circle, and that resulted in his death. I delivered the news of his death to our family.

( She sighs. )

And would I have gone home? I know not. It was horrifying to be taken from the alienage, but my life within the Circle was so different— the Circle allowed me a purpose.

We cannot, [ the words are carefully, deliberately chosen. he focuses enough upon them to let the tone stray — unwatched, it lilts aside, slips farther distant. ] Control what others do for us.

[ within or outside the circle, that much seems to carry ]

You both had choices, but they weren't the same ones. You didn't want him dead. Didn't act to kill him. That choice wasn't yours, any more than it was his to die.

No. ( That is true. ) But we can examine our own actions and our motivations. We can interrogate our every action and decision. There were still consequences to what I am, even if they were not intended.

( She pauses for a moment before continuing. )

May I ask you a question? About your Tranquility?

If you’d like.

[ he mulls: the nature of apologies. given for an expression of sympathy, as much as — what else? a thing harder to name, even when names came quick and sure.

it shared space with faith, he thinks, with the shape of myr's silence. remorse, maybe. that’s a name. it’s one that owns itself too keenly. ]

( She'd have preferred it if he'd declined, almost. It's not entirely a matter of liking. )

Did you choose your Tranquility?

Yes.

[ and he might leave off there — a simple answer to a simple question — save that these past few months he's been asked it more often than the past six years (and no more orders to silence now), and he's seen that the answer won't satisfy.

he learns. he continues: ]

I thought it would be better. [ than dying, perhaps. than living, too. that the distinction should lose definition? ] It was offered twice; I accepted the second time.

[ harrowing had been interesting enough to risk ]

What is your verdict, now it is done? Have you any wish that it were different? Does it—

( there is a long pause, before she commits the rest to the air. Once it is given voice, it cannot be snatched back. The hesitation is brief. )

Does it make things easier? The bearing of it?

It doesn't hurt. [ a long pause, and then, ] Do you remember what it was like, before you learned to read?

A little. Having to trust all you are told... not being able to understand all things laid before you.

Perhaps. But you had all the same information. You saw the same shapes, the same patterns. You understood it — differently than others agree to. A word in Ander means nothing in Nevarran, no matter how many letters they share.

Edited 2017-12-14 06:34 (UTC)

Is much of the world incomprehensible, then? Or simply viewed as though... from another window? A changed perspective, or stained glass.

I remember hurt; I wrote of it often. I recall its shape. But if there’s a meaning to the word, I’ve forgotten it.

That seems... enviable.

( In this moment, in this grief, that sounds idyllic. A world without hurt or grief, without shame or sorrow. A world where injuries might not be healed, but they would not linger plague, where memories could not haunt. The relentless tide of hurts received and inflicted could be quelled, like ink that had once been a stain being diluted so much as to be no more.

Yes, that seemed idyllic. And yet— )

Are all things so? If hurt is forgot, is joy lost as well? Love and rage? Do they mean anything to you, still?

No. [ if any lodge in his spine, not so easily displaced -- ] Which of those most troubles you?

Hurt, ( and then, after a pause that lasts a little too long, ) presently.

I have no certainty I should remain myself, without love or rage. They both of them drive our passions - stir us to justice and compassion. Each must be tightly contained, kindness and care must come from love. And rage— that can drive us forward when all else might overwhelm.

Edited (same icon twice in a row UNACCEPT) 2017-12-14 20:33 (UTC)

Must they? [ come from love. care is a behavior, much as anything. moving forward is ] Have I acted with kindness towards you?

Edited 2017-12-14 20:41 (UTC)

( She pauses, there. Truthfully, the question throws her. )

You have. But did you care whether that kindness helped? Was it simply... a necessity?

( Necessity is not the right word, but neither is "convenience.") Did it matter?

If it mattered to you,

[ it’s an answer. still, he hasn’t done this for himself — ]

Then it mattered.

( She's quiet for a moment, considering that. Perhaps passion had its downfalls. Perhaps it could turn even the best intentions and actions into something selfish. Did it matter, in the end, how she perceived something? How she came to do the action, so long as it was done? Perhaps that was self-indulgent. )

Then—

Perhaps it is possible to better serve others, when personal desires do not cloud what must be done.

Perhaps.

[ cleaning open wound, clearing tissue scarred from place — the rubble, the rows — no, he wouldn’t have been so quick at it, once. ]

It has been for me.

Edited (Once more w/less feeling holy fuck icons shut up bella) 2017-12-14 21:37 (UTC)

I think—

What is necessary cannot be done for the sake of self-indulgence or validation - for our emotional gratification. When we crave that or when it is what drives us, then we can be warped. Change ourselves or our mission in the name of winning approval.

( She enjoys praise and acknowledgement, but if that was the reason for acting, could she not easily be swayed from what was right and honourable, and into what would appease egos and selfish desires?

She loves Cosima, but she does not act for Cosima's approval. Perhaps one of the reasons she came to care for Cosima so greatly because Cosima is able to see things differently from so many in Thedas, is not bound by the same degree of agenda as so many of this world, but she does not stray from her course for the sake of winning validation.

Herian has been too self-centred in the past. She knows that she craves recognition on some levels, is too proud, but—

Perhaps it would be better to take away the possibility of that ever rearing up again. )

Those who act based on their own emotion may simply serve themselves, and not the betterment of things beyond themselves.

Edited (pretend this makes sense dear god) 2017-12-14 21:46 (UTC)

Each way requires effort —

[ it’s only rational to serve oneself, however short a distance one's preferences extend ]

But I wished to help, and not to die. We make our own choices.

I’m within the Research offices most days, if you require me.

I see.

( she thinks. )

You have my thanks. What is your name, ser?

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dashing - 2017-12-14 23:19 (UTC) - Expand

Herian--

[He has to check himself immediately; he's been listening this whole time with dread growing like a black flower in his chest and thought he had control enough not to just--

Do whatever it is he's doing now.]

Don't. Please. It isn't an answer.