thearena | Mountains are crumbling like statues of clay.

Entry tags:

Mountains are crumbling like statues of clay.

Who| The Thedosians & Friends
What| Reuniting and Planning
Where| In the area of the Cornucopia
When| Late evening/night, the first night
Warnings/Notes| Open to all Thedosians and allies who are interested in reuniting post-Cornucopia and plotting out next moves together. This will function like the War Room posts in the Capitol: tag Maxwell, enter into the "planning" catch-all starter, or talk amongst yourselves! If you'd rather your character remain separate, feel free to say they missed this!

Maxwell convinced Shepard to wait until the sun began to sink before he made his move. It had been hours since they'd tucked themselves into the little, bowed house at the edge of the village. Longer still since the troll-child, Karkat, had passed.

The sounds of the blood-bath at the makeshift Cornucopia had faded and died, and an eery hush had fallen, broken only rarely by speech. Far more often it was the house, creaking and groaning around them, squeaking beneath them as they moved about, spending the last of their adrenaline and rage and worry in pacing and checking the ramshackle rooms for anything that might be of use.

There wasn't much. A dirty, chipped cup. A few rusted utensils. A straw-hewn bed, torn full of holes by rodents and an old blanket, still wet green with mold in the folds of the fabric. But without knowing how the Cornucopia went for the others, it was difficult to pass up anything.

Piling it together, they'd waited. Then, finally, Maxwell moved.

As the sky had began to shift from ashen grey, to steel, and then slowly to coal, he clambered onto the sill of one of the open windows and hauled himself as carefully as he could up onto the roof. The wood complained and sank threatening beneath his boots, but it held.

He'd wrapped the silly little cap Jolie had given him around the Anchor to try and disguise it, but he unwrapped it then. The others from the Inquisition would know it for what it was, he was certain, and hopefully the rest would have heard enough about it or were with someone who had.

Holding up his arm, he opened his hand and the ghostly green light spilled free.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"That depends on our intention as a group."

Sebastian had wanted no part in killing more than he had to, but that had been before the Cornocopia, before he'd smelled the blood around him and heard screams and been reminded of the most recent events of his life. It tended to drive a man's mind backwards a bit, and had him mulling over ideas that could give them a chance at getting to people before they got to them.

"Are we in this to survive and keep out of the way, or do we mean to try getting rid of our...competition?" He asked, the word and concept distasteful, still, but seeming a bit closer to necessary now.

"For our immediate protection here...has anyone experience with traps? They may at least keep out those we do not want coming in."

"That is if we intend to stay here," Maxwell pointed out, leaning back against the windowsill, arms folding across his chest as he looked at Sebastian. "It may not be wise to stay so close to the Cornucopia. Even if the supplies were all destroyed in the fire, other tributes may still come looking."

He looked around at the others gathered nearby.

"And I'll be the first to admit I haven't seen what else the arena has to offer in defensible positions besides the castle."

"Indeed." The threat seemed ever present, even if it was just the threat of others like himself. It did hang heavily, especially here. Perhaps moving away from it would slow his nerves a little, or to make them worse.

"And then we would be sitting ducks. We could play with that, if we wished." He said, simply thinking out loud. "I doubt that I would wish to use it, but it's there."

He nodded toward the others as well, hoping someone else may want to join them. "I haven't seen a lot myself. What we need is some higher ground. Maybe, the roof?"

"Contrary to first impressions, many of the other tributes don't really intend harm. Like us, they're just trying to survive as long as possible." The Cornucopia had certainly been quite the show, but Maxwell still wasn't exactly prepared to start hunting them like game. "The others...."

His head tipped, broad shoulders rising and falling again in a small shrug.

"We have no way of knowing what they might be capable of, now that the Capitol has returned their abilities. And we can't even claim the element of surprise." Gesturing upward, he pointed to the flames burning cheerily above his - and now Adella's - head.

"The others..." Sebastian picked up on that little shrug and what it meant, well enough.

"Ah, so we're winging it. Well, at least we do have..." He nodded toward Maxwell's hand. He was not sure where the man stood on Andraste, but there was some reminder of her presence, and he found that strangely comforting.

"No way of knowing, but they would be marked as well, I'd guess? Well I know who to stay away from then." He says, without much thinking of the fact that Maxwell's marked as well. But he and Adella are theirs, so naturally they do not count in that.

"If either of you have to leave here, I would suggest that you are not unguarded. Nor our mages either if that can be done."

"Maybe, maybe not," Maxwell replied. Not comforting, perhaps, but honest. "The marks seem to be less permanent for others. Both Shepard and Dorian had them earlier, but now they've faded."

While he and Adella remained bright little beacons.

When Sebastian mentioned staying away, his head dipped, understanding... but then it lifted again in surprise when the man went on.

"So you would feel comfortable with my staying?"

Nothing could be counted on here, could it? Sebastian suppressed the groan he wanted to let out at that. Not comforting in the least, but better to know offhand. "No guarantees. I shouldn't be surprised. At least I know to run screaming if I happen to notice it from those I don't actually know and trust."

Personally, unarmed, Sebastian knew the screaming wasn't something to help, and he was collected and experienced enough to avoid making noise as any kind of 'enemy', even just a fellow tribute got the definition now, regrettably, approached him, but he couldn't help throwing the weak jibe at himself into the mix anyway. Self deprecation seemed to come to him just now, when he didn't have much power to do anything else. There was an amusing irony about it, anyway.

And hopefully the last would throw some clarification in there, so far as he knew.

"Of course I would. It's different with most of you. There is only one man from Thedas in Panem now, who I would wish to send away, and its a petty bit of me who'd want it. " He could admit to that much, of his soul searching where Anders was concerned. "Unfortunate...side effects or not, you're one of us, and you stay one of us if any ask for my opinion."

"They wouldn't want to make it too easy for us," he said, one corner of his mouth twisting wryly. The humor slightly bitter.

Still, when he looked at Sebastian there was an honesty in his gaze.

"And...thank you. I realize that I am little more than a stranger to you, and I wouldn't have blamed you if you decided to air on the side of caution. I appreciate the support regardless."

"I suppose it wouldn't be a game if they just handed us the easy answers." Sebastian's own humor matched Maxwell's there. For a moment, he wondered what Varric would make of this situation. He'd wish it on no one but he wondered all the same.

"In times like these, we can't be strangers." He said, quite serious about the fact. "Side of caution or not, there is only one way out of this for most of us, probably both you and I." And everybody in this little house.

"Still, even if there were a chance...I've done the wrong thing enough times to recognize it when it stares me in the face and does its best to tempt me. Any chance that allows for only one of any of us to get out of this, or abandons anyone is surely that. And, of course, this is an incredibly bad time to suggest it, but there is no rule saying that we must say strangers, right?"

"Technically? No, I've heard no rule against it." But his smile was no less wry than it had been a moment before. "But definitely prefer it that way, and do try their best to get us to as well."

Jason, in particular, seemed determined to work into every conversation Maxwell had this misfortune of having with the man.

"They will likely try to drive us apart, on way or another."

"Something to look out for, then. At least, we'll have the warning."

Sebastian allowed, expression thoughtful. His friendships in the past few years, even the closest ones had been formed in spite of issues that should, by all rights, have driven most of them far apart after all. Hawke had shielded apostates, Isabela was a wanted woman who had stood against political enemies in Kirkwall, Aveline had stood for total right and order, Anders and Merril...well, and Fenris had been different to them entirely.

And Sebastian himself, with his convictions that had, in those early days, been more like parroting his own beliefs in an effort to feel secure around differences. Yet, they'd managed to spend some years together all the same. They'd mostly grown from the experience. He suspected, awful as this was, it may still be possible here.

"Not that I suspect we would be able to determine exactly how, until it begins happening." He allowed, shaking his head.

Maxwell knew the feeling. If someone had told him, before, that would one day consider a Qunari, a Tevinter mage, the witch of the wilds, and a spirit of compassion among his closest he would have called them mad.

"It sounds paranoid to say it..." he allowed wryly, "but it's best to keep it in the back of your mind. They'll do anything - the Gamemakers - to not just kill us, but make sure our deaths are entertaining for the audience. Hopefully, if we can keep that in mind, we can deny them that much."

Death would come, one way or another, unfortunately. But perhaps they could be lucky enough to choose how they went.

"Entertaining..." Sebastian took that to heart, nodding slowly. Then the point was more to make sure his death, when it came, was entertaining enough, without needing manipulation. That was a strange thought, one that he didn't necessarily like, the idea of turning his death, a time he should have returned to the maker's side, to rest and serve Andraste there, into entertainment for the masses.

He did, however, think that he might manage to do it all the same. "Now THAT is good to know. I've seen my share of entertaining deaths from some perspective. Of course. I cannot suddenly declare myself a blood mage and abomination..." And the idea was terrible, but some sick part of him, some exhausted, sleep deprived, cold and hungry part of him thought it was also quite hilarious. "But short of mutating into a demon..there was inspiration there."

Maxwell snorted, low and dry.

"Don't give them any ideas," he replied with a small shake of his head. "They might just give it a go anyway to see if they can."

And if they couldn't make them into abominations - in any sense of the word - they just craft up some of their own. Maxwell wasn't interested in tangling with either.

Sebastian thought for a moment of Anders, how he had seemed so normal straight up until the end, and of the earlier business in Kirkwall. He hadn't been there to actually experience the tale firsthand, but Varric had been playing Hawke's biographer one night and come up with a version of events wherein blood mages had kidnapped templar recruits for nearly that purpose.

He didn't THINK the Capitol was actively recruiting blood mages, and he trusted the mage among them who was statistically likely to TURN to blood magic if any of them did (Sorry Dorian, by the way; the thought was mathematical rather than personal), but the point was about the same. "They can do anything, you say." He grudgingly allowed, not the words or Maxwell, but the possibility. "Do you suppose if we convinced them picnicking in the company of nubile young people was anathema to us too, that it would work? Too good to be true, right?"

There would doubtless be more horror when Sebastian managed to come into contact with a mutt of any kind, but for now the possibility did not occur, making him, perhaps a little incautious.

"That's...probably not a joking outcome either." He realized, himself. "I feel like I sound completely mad, my apologies."

Maxwell actually laughed at that, the sound very strange in their dim, gloomy surroundings.

"Maybe," he replied, smiling honestly at Sebastian. "But maybe a little bit of that sort of madness is a good thing."

Pushing off the window, he straightened.

"It's a dark place, a little humor might help light the way."

It was very strange, but Sebastian warmed to the notes of laughter there, finding that they helped, and for a moment, at least, he was warmed by the fact that he was not alone here.

"It can have its place, can't it? It's a lang road that's no goat a turnin'."

He muttered, ducking his head and taking comfort in the words as much as he might have taken comfort in the chant itself. "I see no reason candles cannot be involved in helping find the way."

Maxwell's eyebrows twitched bemusedly.

"Colorful turn of phrase," he said. "But no less true. We'll get through this, together."

"My grandfather had a lot of them." Sebastian smiled, even in spite of being here. The memory helped, and it was nothing they could use against him, seeing as he had no family left for them to drag here or exploit.

"I never thought they'd help but...it is comforting to know that I am not alone."

Even though he'd been considering going his own way this arena, Maxwell could agree with that. He'd wanted to go because he knew staying would be a danger - and that it would be difficult - not because he necessarily wanted to be alone.

"I think everyone here would agree with that. For whatever else, it could be worse."

There were those times Sebastian could have almost agreed that it was a good idea, for the same reasons. Then again,the very fact that Maxwell would stick out so badly, especially if he were alone, was dangerous as well. Eventually, it may come down to that, but for now, he seemed in more need of protection, not because he was easy prey by ANY means, but because he wouldn't see anyone alone out there, not until they knew what to expect and what to do about it.

"Aye, it could at that. I'd offer up possibilities, but I'd rather not give them ideas."

"Not unwise," Maxwell agreed with a wry exhale. "Instead... do you know the rest of the Inquisition?"

He gestured lightly to the others gathered in the little building.

"I know, in my - world, at least, our relations were somewhat cursory."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mountains are crumbling like statues of clay.

Re: After the Death Announcements

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject