therookery | crystal; open

Entry tags:

crystal; open

FORM: Sending crystal
SENDER: Yngvi
RECIPIENT: Open
WHAT: If you had the chance to change your fate...
WHEN: Backdated to closer to the start of the year (life why are you like this)
WHERE: Gallows
NOTES: Likely to get into some Carta things as well as discussion of less than ideal childhoods and mercy killings. Hit me up if you have concerns/want to skirt around things.

How d'you leave a thing if a thing was always you? [Not the best opening line, he needs to back up a bit. Compared to last time on the crystals where it was putting on an old pair of boots that don't fit right now, it's not as bad as before. Less sharp. Just someone deflated as if they've been trying to climb a thing only to consider their stamina for the venture.] Like say you grew up with a story taught in the cold, dark, damp but it was all yours in your bones same as that thing so even if it was full of knives those are your knives, and you're not some soft thing. And the story was about some siblings who go out one day by the docks. One get gets caught in a rope and the other one ties themselves to it to haul the other in but they both drown. They get called sentiment and hope.

[Carta bedtime stories aren't like your typical bedtime stories. Yngvi is aware of that, thanks, the embarrassed almost laugh gives it away.]

So say that was your bedtime story, and you-- you were complicit in big things but you grew up that way so you were a kid, and you ate all your siblings because otherwise they ate you... how do you leave? I mean can you? Or do things grind you up to dust and swallow you down instead?

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[ The first thing he hears is a snort. Not a snort of laughter, but a snort that's more of surprise that this person has been thinking of deep thoughts like her. ]

I don't even know. Only reason I'm here is 'cause I thought the Inquisition would get this stupid green shit out of my hand, and now I know they can't, I have to stay here or it'll eat my arm.

[ A pause. ]

I've never known how to leave where I'm from. I always go back. It's weird... I always go back. But now I'm gone and-- [ And Minka doesn't know who she's supposed to be yet. ] -- and yeah. Weird.

[ She's probably the opposite of helpful right now, but no one has even accused Minka of doing the right thing before. ]

[If Yngvi had been drinking or doing what his lady has said he'd done before, about himself, their teeth, amusement, then he'd snap. But he's very sober, and tired, instead just sighing from behind a hand.]

Right well that was 'bout as illuminating as your hand I reckon. Like I left, physically, for nearly ten years, but I was still part of it. That's what this is about. The actual thing itself and deserving. Things you've done, you're been part of, if getting out means you're washing your hands or trying to say it wasn't me.

[ Even though she doesn't know he's talking of the Carta, it's what she's thinking of here, because she can only relate by applying this to herself. Drawing her knees towards her chest, she stares down at her illuminated hand. ]

Don't think you can ever say it wasn't you, even when you were a kid. Doesn't mean you wanted that life. People tell you who to be for so long that once you're away from them...

[ She trails off. This is getting too personal. ]

Point is, when people got their hold on you like that, I guess you either got to replace them with new people -- better people -- or learn who you want to be now. And that's how you really leave. It ain't just putting one foot in front of the other. It's putting your head there too.

[ She stops to reevaluate what she's said. It's easier said than done, and she hasn't even tried yet. She's still wondering if Harik and the other bigwigs will punish her when she gets back; not picturing a life where she doesn't go back. ]

[Thing is, he had ten years or near as made little difference away from Kirkwall, away from the the direct influence of the Carta on his life. On the road with the Boneflayers to almost every known corner of Thedas someone might conceivably send a mercenary to open they eyes of a dwarven boy who'd known the gutters but little else beyond that.

He wasn't meant to come back. They didn't come back to Kirkwall because the Chantry happened but it had been an unspoken thing same as avoiding Rivain as far as possible for Nasir's sake.]

You get away for that long and get most of Thedas under your boots, you don't think about it unless something makes you think about it, and even then you just don't think about it. Because you aren't there. It's there, you're not, you don't. You have a life. [Except who you are at what's fifteen or sixteen because no one thinks to tell you when you were born in his particular branch isn't who you are years down the line.]

Some people don't get replaced. [Not so cold as he could make it but what world is this where you can just casually say that? It isn't how it works.] If you were a name in a ledger and knew your worth, it's hard not to wonder how much coin other people would weigh against your name even if you know they never would.

[ It's how it works for her. Nice for him that some people aren't replaceable. She's never had that. Never cared about anyone and no one's sure as shit ever cared about her. She's been replaced as courier already; she knows that. They'd be stupid not to. Doesn't mean they won't spend a moment beating her ass when she gets back for daring not to return on schedule. ]

They would where I'm from. That's just facts. [ She knows she's so useless that she'd have been killed long ago if she couldn't run like the wind. ] Whether they would or not where you're from, well, you're thinking about it, which says a lot.

[ It says more than he's willing to admit, she reckons. ]

I dunno. Don't really have an answer for it all, but if someone comes along and explains it all proper to you, maybe pass it along. Might need it for someday. Not sure yet.

[ It's just a seed planted in her head by others here: those who have said "You don't have to go back to that life." But the seed hasn't been watered and there's no sun shining down on it. Not yet. ]

Just wanted to say... you know, you're not the only one wondering this sorta thing. If you felt... [ alone? ] weird about asking. Or something.

[Watch a friend rot from the inside out when he was getting better then give him to his gods. Watch another one years ago scream herself out when everyone was dead then spend a month silent as a tomb with everyone keeping some unspoken pact to stay up with her at all hours. Or stand vigil outside the door of your lady when she's so sad you don't know why, but you're as scared as you've ever been because there aren't words, there won't be words, and she won't say, you can't ask, you can only guard her door until one day she comes out.

Comes out different but at least she comes out.]

Books have to be balanced. You don't talk like someone who went into things without a debt somewhere, and they keep track of it. You can think it, but even if you were shit at what you did, they want to be in the black, not the red. If you're in the red, well—[Well everyone was in the Deep Roads, and Yngvi has it under his nails.]

Some things it doesn't matter if they explained it to you, you can have it explained a hundred times or a thousand. It's in the execution. There's a lot to consider. [Which he's been mulling over a long time now, only in pieces. This is getting it there without getting into a fight on the way.]

Guess so.

[ Not really. The more he rambles, the less she has any idea what he's talking about. Maybe if she knew the exact situation, she would get it.

Probably not, though. She's not what one would call "smart." ]

Good luck with it all, with the considering and getting it all straightened out.

Sometimes you just have to leave. Part of you will always want to go back, but... you can't.

Even if it claws? Because this is-- this is family. My family. And the Carta because you can't split them apart, believe me I tried but that doesn't work.

How d'you live with always wanting to go back to something that hurts, I don't get why bits of me don't know better.

I can't say a lot about family-- I don't remember mine. They left me when I was a child.

But if they're not good for you, and it's poisoning you and ruining your life... You try to look to the people who care about you now. Those who know you and want to help you. It might not be easy to leave your past behind, but you might be happier.

Mine left the other ones who didn't do things good enough. [Left them to fend for themselves. If you're in Darktown, where else do you go?] That happens in Dusttown. [He pauses, unsure why he says it but people should know. Should hear what happens down in the dark. That or he's just trying to ease his guilty conscience.] Sometimes families tell their children to leave their children in the Deep Roads because their daughter had a son of the wrong caste or something like that.

Happier. [Rolling that one around is—well some days are just a slog. Other days are lying there trying not to let the day grind you down to dust.] I don't know if I know people that've done that before. It wasn't an option. Here you're…you're what you are. You're a dwarf and you're this thing or that. I don't know what I'd end up being I've always been in the Carta even in the Boneflayers.

I don't think mine meant to leave me. Something must have happened to them. [ It's a lie she's been telling herself so long, that she might actually believe it, now. ]

[ Anyway that's not important, on to the other thing. ]

I think you're wrong. You've always been Yngvi. You'll still be yourself, just... don't define yourself by where you are in life. You're a person, and that'll be enough for anyone who cares to know you.

Lots of things happen that aren't their fault. [Yngvi can agree because Rey is good and kind, and parents to people are lost through no fault of their own. What they're living through now undoubtedly is leaving an army with similar tales.

He's not sure what to say in the face of that though. His life has been compromised of being a part of something. Needing to still be one of Asher's boys even in death.]

I've never looked at it like that before. Thanks Rey.

I have a lot of experience being no one. If you need any tips, I'd be happy to share.

[ She's mostly joking, but she had lived a very solitary existence, had only just been learning what it was like to be a part of something when she came to Thedas. She's still not great at it, some days. ]

Rey-- [How to word this without sounding like an arse overstepping, a day in the life of Yngvi.] You're not no one, y'know? Not to me. I know you're not from here, and I dunno know what that's like but, you're a mate. And you've been good to me. You've been there. If you need someone, not saying I'm going to be good I mean...all of this but...yeah.

[How eloquent, he's embarrassed, that was embarrassing.]

[ Awwww Yngvi! ]

Thank you, Yngvi. That means a lot to hear. [ Like seriously, this girl did not have a lot of friends before coming to Thedas. ] And I feel the same. You've been a wonderful friend to me.

Sometimes the past is bad because it's there to teach us what not to do.

[That old Dalish nut, never forget, never submit, never let them take you away from you.]

But you don't forget it. If not forgetting is the same as not leaving it behind, then-- maybe you can't.

There's a lot I never got a choice in because sometimes you're a child, it's cold, it'd dark, and you need to go do things or the longer without dinner it is, the harder it is to get more. No one teaches you the other stuff.

[Eating your siblings isn't literal but it might as well be.]

So some of us don't get to leave things because what happened or what we did is so horrible it just lives in us then? Forever and ever? [This not drinking thing is rough, he picked a bad time to start.]

If sentiment and hope had drowned you would not be asking such a question.

What, I wonder, are you holding onto?

I...I did something for the patriarch of my family, my father, in Dusttown where in the end we had to kill Casteless. And he-- it was just a transaction. But things I did before were part of it, what happens to them then and now, and the food I did get or the clothes that was--

[Breathing, he needs to do that when his voice rises with that sharp hitch.]

It's a big rope, it's really big, and I don't know what I'm letting go of if I let go.

Is leaving what you intend to do?

Edited (changes a single word....THEN DELETES ANOTHER i'm good at this hi mhairi) 2018-01-12 07:14 (UTC)

I don't-- I don't know? People have stories that don't end well, folk leaving and then there's a ditch or-- balancing the books. Everyone laughed.

Can you leave things? I don't know if I deserve to but...I don't think I want my name next to that now.

No one gets what they deserve.

[ not ungently. telling him that he deserves freedom — it would be true. true as it's true that it doesn't matter. there's what they deserve, and what they receive, and how cruel is it then? to imply the others didn't, that so many others don't?

(does einar tell himself he deserves this?)

no one gets what they deserve. but maker, yngvi will get what they can give. ]

There will be a way. If this is what you want — there will be a way. We will find it.

[ not a thing she ought to promise. not a thing easily taken, and the fruits of his ties not easily given up. this could hurt the inquisition, if poorly-done. could strain their presence here.

but what good is a dead man? a dead friend? he's different than he was already. he's grown. but if this escalates, it will only be in one direction. ]

You begin by laying out the knives. All of them, bare. From there, we may see which way they turn.

Singing one of the songs of my childhood. Y'know what's funny? [It's not funny, his voice is very flat.] The other times it was about getting what you deserve but I wasn't clear on who was deserving there.

[Well, not him. First and foremost of his fathers made that plain when he was just good enough but never quite enough.]

Into backs. Between ribs. Like...a lot of people do stuff they aren't comfortable with who am I to say, oh sorry not for me, it's my family. Dwarves aren't meant to care and it's paid off well enough that I know how it looks no matter how I slice it.

[Fun thing about selfish as an accusation. It works. It works devastatingly well with someone who spent too long thinking anything for himself was automatically that.]

I think... what you do when you are young can be things you do because you do not yet know, or you lack a voice, the means to act counter to what you are instructed. Your choices can be limited by lack of power or knowledge.

( There is so much she wishes she could change from her childhood, her adolescence - her whole life, almost. Decisions she wishes she had better understood. ) That can be the burden of growing, but... when there are things that you are unhappy with, or that wound yourself or others, and you understand what it is doing or has done - then the possibility for change occurs because you've obtained more of an understanding of it.

( She sighs. This isn't an easy topic. ) No other can make the decision but you, but I would wager there are those that would help you, should you wish to move away from that pain, rather than be mired in it.

[Talk about hitting the nail on the head; the words strike, and Yngvi makes a quiet noise, not pained exactly but a little startled at how close they are to the truth.]

I never came back here until now. I left with everyone and we didn't go places I had to think about it, that was almost ten years, now it's…I don't know how to not think about it? All these things I did that I thought were fun when I was younger. It was—it was a game almost? Who could do best to be told well done, get their dinner first.

[It's embarrassing. It's shameful. He doesn't like talking about it but if he doesn't then it won't get any better because it'll just sit there in his head because he can't sort through all of it without some other people who might know things he doesn't.] Being here I can help people I think, or I think I have. I know that one time…well it was the only thing to be done. Not that that makes it better, it's just, it's what it was.

Isn't some part of you always part of what you were though? I've seen Templars who stopped taking lyrium before, when they'd pay for the black market stuff [that I sold likely goes without saying] but even when they left they're still a Templar and still Chantry sort of. Like it's still in them? Sorry that's not making sense is it?

I...

( She is silent for a long while, thinking. ) It is not the same, but it took me many years to return to Starkhaven. I judge myself harshly for that; it was a failing on my part, neglecting my home for so long.

( Kind words, right? No, not at all, which is why she continues, ) If anything, though, I know that we each of us have our struggles. If we whittle away pieces of ourselves then... then we compromise our own strength, and what might remain of our integrity. Reflection is important, but if we tear away so much flesh that we cannot stand? That will serve no one, least of all the causes most dear to us.

( Good advice Herian, maybe consider following it? No? Okay, gurl. )

You can help people, and you can better yourself in whatever way you wish. Our past is with us always, and try as we might we cannot... carve it out any more than we might carve out our own hearts. It is with us, always, but we can learn from it. We can swear never to repeat hurts we have inflicted, or failures that have allowed harm to unfold.

Kirkwall was on fire when we got out. Think we were some of the last before things got locked down with the whole…Arishok…thing. [How do you phrase that one succinctly? You can't.] I had Gunnar, he's my brother, so it was like, if I had him then how was I away, and there's all this stuff I didn't have. Wouldn't you have been in a Circle though? It's not like it's the most sensible thing for a mage to go back to an alienage. Even now. It makes sense.

[Someone might've been hurt, and Herian struck him as caring deeply. Maybe he just doesn't want other people sounding so down about things but if Yngvi was running when things were going bad that weren't solely down to him, he wouldn't go putting loved ones in the way of danger because who knows what rogue Templars or even other mages would do, it's not like they ever thought much of alienages before.]

No one's ever accused me of having that. [The joke falls flat, it's a bit desperate. The drowning dwarf catching his breath.] That's hard. It doesn't sound so hard when you say it like that, it sounds like the right and normal thing to do. Solid sort of advice, same as someone telling you not to go picking at your scabs but everyone does that.

I'm just—trying to figure out my place in all of it. What I'd be if I walked away. If I could. If I did what you said and then it was: here I am, and I'm Yngvi. Some bits would be the same but there's some things that happen or that you do and you don't know what the lesson is meant to be or if there's even a lesson. Sometimes life is awful, and hurtful, and you're just trying to not let that thing happen again, and if that's the lesson it's not fair. [Don't—don't tell him life isn't fair. He does know that it's just tiring to be reminded of how unfair it is on certain people.]

Sound advice is often easy to say and rather harder to put into action. I think that… moving onwards is necessary, even when we falter. We might do our utmost not to pick at wounds, and then have a day when we lapse. That does not mean we should determinedly continue to pick, one we realise what we have done; there is not benefit to simply giving up on good done when we stumble. Better to acknowledge the lapse or what it was, and carry on.

( Or roast yourself eternally, the Herian Amsel way, but since they’re talking about good advice not being followed…

She mulls over his words some more, and sighs.)

It’s as you say, with my going home. I was a known mage of the Circles, and my name would have been recognised in the alienage, even if my face were less familiar to them after so long. It still felt… cowardly not to attend. There were reasons I used to justify my distance beyond the matter of safety. I can change that now, and do better. Maybe the lesson is to try and continue to improve, so when we say who we are, we can feel satisfaction in it. Mistakes may have been made, but we can keep trying to make better decisions.

So it's alright then to trip up? [Said as someone who's taking a long time to learn a very simple lesson.] I mean, like, I think some stuff or a lot of stuff I've done here has been good or might be. If it helps people who don't get helped. Or things before that weren't always just doing what rich folk pay mercenaries to do but sometimes you feel like you're... lowering the tone. Because you had bad days. Or your past might rap the door. Stupid stuff is loud I s'pose, maybe that's how mages all feel about each other.

[The observations of Mr Congealedinagutterson on mage politics.

Herian's words are good and something's in her manner soothing, never patronising.]

How is it cowardly to keep people safe though? Heard stories about what happened in Denerim's alienage back during the Blight when there was a riot and Halamshiral...If the human villages, places like the Hinterlands, got fighting and rampaging and people marching in to claim stuff then it'd be a hundred times worse for elves. I don't think you can call yourself a coward when you were protecting them. That must've hurt. Keeping yourself away from folk you hadn't seen since you were little? When you could've gone but didn't? Because you wanted to make sure that they were safe? [Or that's how Yngvi sees it because sometimes when you can bring a lot of bad with you, you weigh it up, see how the scales tip.]

To be flawed and to make mistakes... that seems to me to be part of living. To a life without fault or error is impossible; some of us find ourselves on more treacherous paths than others. At times... it is all we can do to stay on the path, even if we stumble with each step. And then, at time, we can help others keep their footing, as well.

( A quiet huff of breath; ) Forgive me. I've no artfulness with words. I feel the metaphor was a clumsy one.

It did keep them safer. ( That she can agree on. ) But that does not make me regret it less. Perhaps it is in that that I am... weaker now than I once was. I need to correct my footing, so to speak.

It's the bringing others into it if they didn't choose it but life sort of makes it so it's not a choice because the world is all tilted. Like...I'm Carta so stuff can come with reprisals. Because if who I am. You can't say no to a thing because you weigh it up. Maybe it's the same other places like a Templar asked you to do something and you do it because not all people are good and they might smack you but they might smack your mate. Or with the whole...war thing. Say the wrong thing when you're a tense and who knows who might lob a spell at you.

[Or you still want them to be proud of you because some part of you is probably broken. He thinks. How can you want that from someone awful?]

I...I don't think you're weak. You stand up. Say your mind. That's scary, trust me I know how much folk hate that when they don't like it or expect one thing and you're not that. But you helped with those little ones in the cold. And then in the snow. Reckon your footing's getting back to solid.

I understand. My circumstances have not been such themselves, but... ( But she understands. ) Honour is a lofty ideal, at times. My father was a man greatly concerned with honour and ideals, but we lived in the alienage. He did some leatherwork, but there was rarely coin in it - more trading jobs and and goods. There were times when, in desperation, he turned to smuggling in the hope of securing a better future.

There may be times when the best you can do in particular circumstances are all you can hope for. One might suppose that if we always make the honourable choice then the path will become easier, but I think that is more than a little naive. Ultimately only you can make a decision from the choices laid before you. Maybe we both of us can better our footing, even in the dark, when the choices are harder to make out.

If it's for feeding your family then I think it's still okay, look at the Chevaliers calling themselves the most honourable ones around who go run through the alienages for training that's not honour. He sounds like he was a good man, your dad.

[Is some small part envious? He has multiple but all answer to Einar and follow the template.]

You know if that's the real truth behind why thieves lanterns exist then eight people owe me gold. [It's a bad joke, he knows.] Thank you, I mean it. I don't quite know where I'm getting but this has-- I won't forget this. You ever want traps or a lantern you let me know. Or just a chat. I got a lot of tea from pretty much everywhere, my brother swears some is from Seheron.

I am thankful every day that my family have remained in the Starkhaven alienage. ( But that was not true of all, was it? She had not known Fionnuala, but she could imagine some fragment of her cousin's fears when his wife was parted from him. What happened to elves who moved to Orlais? )

He was, indeed. His... desire to protect was so great that it lead to his death. That is... knowing how hard he tried to protect me is something not all children are able to fully grasp of their parents. ( It came at a terrible cost, but he had tried so hard to protect her. Perhaps his fault was believing all elves honourable, idealising the Dalish.

She clears her throat roughly. )

You are very gracious. Pray do not inconvenience yourself for my sake. I would not wish to abuse your generosity, but please do not hesitate to call upon me if you should have need of further discussion.

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