sixthiterationlogs | (no subject)

WHO: Corsina Surana
WHERE: The fountain park, the inn
WHEN: May 21st
OPEN TO: Corsina's arrival is locked to Hawke, and I'm taking up to five threads for the OTA portion at the inn.
WARNINGS: N/A, will update if needed.
STATUS: Open

the fountain; locked to Astrid Hawke

The first thing Corsina is conscious of is that she can't breathe. Her lungs feel on fire, burning pain and a tightness in her chest like — like drowning, and the second thing she realizes is the reason her limbs feel slow and heavy: she's in water, although she can't for the life of her recall how or why. Among the things Corsina learned at the Circle and with the Wardens, swimming wasn't really one of them — but she can tread water a little, and her arms and legs work just enough to propel her to the surface.

She breaks through the water with a gasp, and probably would have sunk right back below the surface if not for the instinctual grab at something that turns out — when she can get her breath and her bearings enough to focus — to be the rim of a stone fountain. She clings onto it for a while, trying to get a sense of where she is. She's in what looks to be a courtyard of some sort with the fountain at its center, but there are buildings in the near distance; this must be a village of some sort, although not like anything she's ever seen.

Corsina pulls herself out of the fountain, waterlogged and still gasping for breath a little. She remembers where she was — in Denerim, although she was supposed to travel to Amaranthine in a few days, to take up possession of the fortress Vigil's Keep as a new central base for the Fereldan Grey Wardens. This — she doesn't know where this is, but it's nowhere near Denerim nor Amaranthine, of that much she is certain. She's dressed in strange clothes — trousers and shirt made of some plain blue-green fabric, and heavy brown boots with laces — and the heavy weight on her back turns out to be a pack, though she doesn't yet try to open it to see what's in it, overwhelmed just from the realization that she's nowhere near where she was and fighting not to panic at the idea that she must have been kidnapped somehow, there's no explanation for this that makes sense otherwise.

"Where in the Maker's name—" she manages, half of a breathless sentence as she sits right back down on the rim of the fountain.

She'll recover in a few minutes and get to finding someone who can tell her where she is and what's going on. She will. But right now — right now this is all a little bit much.

the inn; open

Corsina's had a few things explained to her now, and realized a few things about herself and why she feels so strange, but even so, there's still a sense that maybe this isn't really happening. Everything's fine; it has to be. This is a dream and she'll wake up, or someone will come and rescue her, or — something, because she's not processed the idea that being trapped here might be for good.

Hawke has been kind to her, but eventually she has to leave the house to take a walk, try to clear her head and get a sense of her surroundings. She's trying not to be intrusive and look into people's houses, but there's a large building that looks like it might be a common building of some kind.

Stranded in this strange village she might be, but she pushes open the door and — well, she knows a tavern when she sees one. There's a small sigh of relief — finally, something that makes some kind of sense — and she takes her time to look around, examining the tables and chairs, the fireplace, and then moving a bit further into the kitchen.

Corsina doesn't know what she was expecting, but she startles a little on seeing someone else in the kitchen. "I'm sorry," she says. "I... didn't realize there was anyone here."

It sounds silly as she says it; she's not quite blushing, but a rueful, self-deprecating smile pulls at her mouth. Everything about this entire situation is throwing her off. Warden-Commander she might be, but right now she feels more like the sheltered girl from the Circle that she used to be than anything else.

Threaded | Flat

Corsina Surana is a name just about everyone in Thedas knows well. Most call her the Hero of Ferelden at this point. Her face isn't as well known, but that is most likely due to the fact that pictures don't exactly exist in Thedas. One would have to commission a portrait and even then it wouldn't be exactly the same as having the real person. So for better or worse, when Hawke approaches the fountain today, she has no idea who it is sitting there trying to catch her breath.

Really, the new clearly-just-out-of-the-fountain face would be enough to stop Hawke, but it's the oath in the Maker's name that really catches her attention. That has her adjusting her steps, turning to the fountain for sure this time.

"The Maker owes a lot of us, it would seem," she jokes dryly. "Welcome to the nameless village, home of too many people to name plus a few who actually know about Thedas."

She's going out on a limb here in her assumptions, but so far everyone who has mentioned a Maker like that has been from Thedas.

Tina may not have stayed at the inn but in the months since arriving she came by often. Mostly it was to look into anything new on the lists and maps and see if there was something new. Today, however, she'd only just made it to the inn after her rearrival in the woods. Sorted out the sprain with some of the communal emergency supplies and didn't have the energy to leave just yet.

Instead the woman found herself in the kitchen, sitting at the island where Moana once had her do while she cooked fish. Propped carefully against the seat and giving anyone her entered a curt nod. She is of no mind to start any conversation and most seemed to go about their business without too much bother. Tina was just about ready to get up and make the small-- or perhaps today: long-- trek home when the other woman entered.

She placed her hand on the countertop and glanced over at the woman in confusion before she shook her head. "No, you're fine," She offered, her smile something more of a grimace before she let out a breath. "Were you looking for something? I'm sure someone will be making something to eat sometime soon."

Fenris turns, sharply, his head twitching around to peer back over his shoulder at the sound of the voice. He's never been able to shake that, even now that Danarius has been dead for years and nobody has sent slavers after him since. He's been fighting slavers, and none of them have tried to claim him as a magister's property.

He still has the reflexes of a fugitive, though, and he's ready to fight if he has to, unconsciously tensed at the startling voice.

It's a woman, with reddish hair and a slight build. Unarmed, and therefore no obvious threat, in a place in which he apparently no longer need fear attack by magic.

"Ah," he says, turning away from the strange device that provides water into the inn, just as one does in Hawke's house. "No need to apologize. There do not seem to be many people here at the moment."

Edited 2017-05-25 04:45 (UTC)