seeks_truth: (cass pb: neutral question)
2017-08-30 09:56 am
Entry tags:

Seeker Fortress, Montsimmard, Orlais, Wednesday

The shock of her sudden return - no mage in tow and no explanation for her absence - had been... rough. It had taken some arguing not just from Cassandra, but also from Byron, to keep the Lord Seeker from putting her on cleaning duties indefinitely, or even transfer her to the chantry.

But today, at last, she was freed.

"You will only exercise the most basic of your duties," Byron sighed, watching her. "In another week or two of this, they'll reevaluate whether you may be allowed to leave the fortress again."

Cassandra nodded, a shallow motion. "I see," she said. "Thank the Lord Seeker for his forgiveness."

"Just don't run off like that again, Cassandra," he replied. "This is not like you, and tarnishes your reputation."

"I promise you it was for good reason."

"But you have nothing to show to prove it."

"No."

She rubbed her hands. Prayer, then, for the next few weeks. She stepped out of the cell.

It would do.

[[ open! ]]
seeks_truth: (cass: say WHAT?)
2017-08-25 06:48 pm
Entry tags:

Room 212, Friday Morning

Lucille was gone. Cassandra's own time at Fandom was over.

And so would be Anders's. She had offered him the leniency of life here for some amount of time, but now, Cassandra reflected as she bustled the last of her armor into her trunk, that would change. He belonged in a Circle, after all, not running amock here.

She grunted as she lifted the bag. It was the books inside making it heavy, she knew.

She lifted her sword. "May Andraste give me strength," she muttered. The mage would likely be vexing, and he wouldn't make it easy.

And thusly armed, she stepped out of the door of her dorm room...

... and into the Thedosian woods. "--Maker!"

[[ can be open right before she leaves, but slow. ]]
seeks_truth: (cass: determined)
2016-12-17 01:25 pm
Entry tags:

Room 211, Saturday Afternoon

Cassandra did not have her roommate's issues with wine, and so she had a large mug of it sitting on her desk. It was inconvenient, as she had planned to clean her armor today, but she could wait another day - unless the island had decided to substitute the wine in the taps for something else, tomorrow.

No, instead she was sitting at that desk, attempting to... write.

It had begun to occur to her that she should chronicle everything that happened here, just in case it might teach the scholars back home a thing or two about magical madness. But she was terrible at it; words did not come naturally to her.

"Ugh," she muttered, striking through an entire passage for the third time. "Why?"

This had been a terrible idea.

[[ open! ]]
seeks_truth: (cass pb: not happy)
2016-08-28 12:03 pm

Room 211, Sunday Evening

It had taken more time to move all of her things than Cassandra had entirely anticipated: her armor and equipment were happy, and she had gathered more books over the past year or so than she had thought. And of course, there were the bookshelves they had bought at the Isle of IKEA, which now took up most of the room. Still, as Cassandra put down the last of her book on their joint 'already read' shelf, it had been a good day's work.

"This is perfect," she said, stepping back from the shelves.

She appreciated her and Lucille's handiwork for a moment longer.

[[ open post, open door! ]]
seeks_truth: (cass pb: neutral question)
2016-08-23 09:46 am

Room 415, Tuesday Evening

Cassandra had been dreading - and looking forward to - this moment since Sunday. She had tried on both of her dresses before deciding neither of them made her feel very comfortable, and comfortable was something she should be - so she was wearing her nicest sweater and trousers, all black and eggplant. She was still fidgeting with it. Perhaps she should have gone with one of the more formal dresses, after all? Garik was going to bring his suit, and--

--and Maker. She hadn't even decided where they should go yet.

So she paced nervously around the room, both terribly aware and somehow unaware of the way time was creeping towards the agreed-upon hour.

"For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water... oh, this is ridiculous... as the moth sees light and goes towards the flame..."

[[ for one, please! eta: ... and NSFW. ]]
seeks_truth: (bde: cass pony)
2016-07-13 09:13 am

Room 415, Wednesday Morning

Cassandra woke up early, as she did every morning, and rolled over so that she may leave the bed, as she did every morning, and then crashed to the floor in a flurry of hooves and tail and other such nonsense.

"Maker!"

She scrambled up to her-- legs, breathing harshly, eyes big. "What magic is this?!" she snapped, staring down at her front hooves. She padded around in a circle, attempting to get some impression of her ordeal. "Andraste's--"

She neighed. Loudly. Angrily.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

The bloody island!

[[ closed door, open post! ]]
seeks_truth: (cass pb: not happy)
2016-07-01 10:43 am

A Tavern on the Outskirts of Val Royeaux, Friday Evening

"I believe we have done enough sightseeing," Cassandra said, as she packed her few belongings into a bag. "We should make for the White Spire soon. They should be able to help us divine a way to return you to the island - or at least give them proof that my missives about it have been true."

She took a deep breath, then pulled a small package out of her bag.

"Though first, I have a gift for you. In case this does work, and we return you to Fandom."

[[ for lucille. eta: blood and violence in the comments. ]]
seeks_truth: (cass pb: not happy)
2016-06-29 08:00 am

From (Near) the Preserve to Val Royeaux, Wednesday Early Morning

It was a morning as any other. For some measure of the phrase: the stars above were still inescapable, the island warmed by the heat coming up out of the planetoid it was set on rather than any recognizable sun. But that did not matter overmuch to Cassandra, who was intent on her morning exercise. She left the mountainside early and trudged towards the path leading out, through the preserve, fully-armored and ready for her morning jog.

Just another day, indeed.

[[ for one, please! ]]
seeks_truth: (cass: determined)
2016-04-16 10:00 am

From Room 212 to the Salle, Saturday Morning

Lucille had woken early... )

[[ preplayed with the awesome [livejournal.com profile] crimson_sister. not the only baby surprise for cass today, la la. can be open for lucille, but i'm travelling so slow ]]
seeks_truth: (cass pb: going going)
2016-03-07 10:43 am

Room 415, Monday Morning

It had been an entirely normal week, and Cassandra was grateful for it; she had spent most of her time at the salle, ensuring that her form retained no elements of the restlessness of weeks past. Today she had earned some respite, she felt: so after a short morning training, she retreated back to her room.

She had not touched the small stack of books she'd picked up from the library weeks ago in some time. She was eager to know what happened next.

And so it was that she wound up sitting on her bed in the loose garments she normally wore beneath her armor, a thick book with a teenage girl's face on the cover in her lap. Cassandra was smiling to herself as she read, though she didn't realize it.

[[ open! ]]
seeks_truth: (cass pb: neutral question)
2016-01-13 10:23 am
Entry tags:

Room 415, Wednesday Afternoon

Cassandra had returned the last batch of books to the library. She was beginning to run out of novels in her preferred genre, which perhaps made her sadder than she should have necessarily been.

So she had done an experiment today, and now she was hauling in the results: five books, randomly picked off of the shelves, going by covers she didn't recognize. She put them on her desk as she came in, then sank down on the bed with a pleased sigh. At least she would still have plenty to read for this week; after that, she would have to ask Garik to help her find the novels on the line again.

"Computers," she muttered. "Maker."

[[ open! ]]
seeks_truth: (cass pb: oh now what)
2015-10-09 02:30 pm
Entry tags:

Room 415, Friday Afternoon

There was apparently another voyage of leisure the school was embarking on sooner rather than later. And Cassandra, being as fond of being prepared as she was, was making sure she was appropriately packed well before they left.

Well before.

Unfortunately, now that she actually owned more than a handful items of clothing, this was proving to be something of a difficult endeavour.

"I did not realize I owned this many smallclothes," she muttered.

[[ open! ]]
seeks_truth: (cass pb: oh now what)
2015-09-25 12:25 pm
Entry tags:

Room 415, Friday Morning

The book of dirty poetry Cassandra had confiscated from Garik was still... there. On her nightstand. Mocking her. Moreso now that her one class of the day had finished and she would have all the time in the world to stare at it while it mocked. And it mocked fiercely.

Perhaps she could just take a single peek?

No. She had taken it from Garik to ensure he returned to doing his work the way he was intended to. It was merely here for safekeeping. Yes.

... if this resulted in her spending most of the remainder of the morning sighing in the general direction of the book as she attempted to focus on cleaning her bracers, well. It did.

[[ open post, open door ]]
seeks_truth: (cass: seeking)
2015-09-04 01:40 pm
Entry tags:

Room 415, Friday Morning

The last time Cassandra had tumbled onto Fandom, she had not been prepared. It was different this time: she had brought a whole host of clothes and supplies with her. She had waited to see if the Causeway was blocking her departure again (yes) and if the island had changed any in her absence (no), but now she was certain of both matters and it was time to unpack and organize her affairs.

Which meant folding. Lots and lots of folding. She had brought padded leather armor this time, as well as her more sturdy set; it needed to be cared for properly. And of course there were the books she had... borrowed from the Seeker library, to ensure she would have some knowledge of what she was dealing with, should either of the island's Thedosian mages become possessed or dabble in blood magic.

She had opened the door slightly to let fresh air in, but she would be busy for most of the morning.

[[ open door, open post! ]]
seeks_truth: (cass pb: ready to fight)
2015-08-27 08:57 am
Entry tags:

Infopost! The Quick-E-Skinny Edition!

Hey-o, folks! This is just a quick update of my characters outside of the new boy, since at least one of them has some new stuff going on you should probably know about. In fact, let's start with her.

The Seeker. )

The Poor Boy From Bristol )

The Good Jedi )

The Bad Jedi. )

The Valkyrie. )

-

The Chicken Lady )
seeks_truth: (cass pb: oh now what)
2015-08-21 01:59 pm

A Room At A Small Tavern in Montsimmard, Friday

It had taken some searching, but Cassandra was confident she had a lead. ... even as she felt a strange reluctance to follow it through. Now she simply had to mention this to Garik, and they could locate the mage and his spells and find some way to return the boy-- and perhaps retrieve Anders at last.

She had been about all morning, checking her sources. It was a long walk back to the tavern at which she had rented a room for him, but considering his sleeping habits, she doubted he would mind.

She knocked on the door and waited. For her, that was polite.

[[ for the boy! ]]
seeks_truth: (cass pb: formal)
2015-08-19 01:17 pm

The Seeker Fortress, Montsimmard, Wednesday

It had been a long and arduous... how long had it been? She did not know. She did not remember: did not remember her name, her being, anything beyond this room. She was empty. A vessel, which sat on thin knees and prayed. Over and over again, she had spoken the Chant, and now she was hoarse; she had eaten and she had drunk, but nothing of any noteworthy flavor. It was as it should be.

There was nothing left in the world but grey. It did not matter. She pressed her hands together more firmly and whispered the words. It hurt, but the pain was distant. Colourless. It was...

...

...

It was white. Hot, burning like the sun, settling deep within her core. It stretched its rays outward and touched every part of her, scorching it. The greyness burned, like Andraste's pyre, great white hot flames that licked up through her every extremity. It was beauty. It was grace. It was everything. It was... too much.

She came to hours later. She was curled up on the floor. Above her, the familiar faces of a dozen Seekers.

"Congratulations," said Byron. He was smiling.

---

Two days later, she sat outside the fortress. There was a small park here, far away from the bustle of Montsimmard, but not quite as outside it all as the fortress; it was good for her, to experience the colors and the scent of the world again, even if it left her rather... distracted. Cassandra had new power burning in her veins, power she scarcely knew how to use. It kept gripping her at the strangest of times.

But now she sat, and she watched, and she--

--watched a jagged line of magic slice clean through the air, sparked by a small bundle at the side of the fountain. A trap, surely, laid here by a mage, waiting for a Seeker to come and...

Cassandra was up on her feet within moments, drawing her sword. "What is this?!"

[[ for one! ]]
seeks_truth: (cass pb: not happy)
2015-07-06 04:57 pm

Seeker Fortress, Montsimmard, Orlais, Monday

After months of wearing nothing but her armor or the comparatively heavy clothing of Fandom, the loose garments Cassandra had been given felt strange on her shoulders. Almost as if they were non-existent; implying an ease of life and movement she was not entirely sure was ever hers to have. In fact, she was rather sure she preferred otherwise. In this upcoming trial, she may yet need the sense of strength the weight imparted on her.

In which Cassandra goes to Vigil. )

Cassandra opened the door before her, and strode inside. She let all thoughts go, as well as she could. There would be time to purge what remnants stayed behind, but she was confident she would see it through.

"And there I saw the Black City," she murmured, "its towers forever stain'd, its gates forever shut..."

[[ establishy. ]]
seeks_truth: (cass pb: not happy)
2015-06-26 09:48 am

From The Causeway to the Frostback Mountains, Friday Morning

If one thought that getting out of radio duty for the day meant Cassandra would sleep in, one did not truly know Cassandra Pentaghast. No; she was taking advantage of the extra time to put in an early sweep of the island before resuming her training in the salle. She had done such sweeps recently, but they had lapsed to twice a week rather than once a day, largely because it had become rather obvious that simply walking over the causeway would not get her home.

She had explored various exit points already, to no avail. The causeway was both the most obvious and the least likely choice, which made it her end point.

She regarded the long stretch of road critically, the metal of her armor clacking together as she crossed her arms. The books had always said some nonsense about 'thinking of home' when you wanted to return, but that had clearly never helped. Still, she brought the image of home up in her mind: the vast spires and artful bridges of Montsimmard, the halls of the Montsimmard Chantry, lit with candles. The Seekers, their armors shining, running their swords along the whetstone. The sound of the Chanters outside, reciting their lines.

"The one who repents, who has faith," she murmured, "Unshaken by the darkness of the world, she shall know true peace."

She took a step, and then another step, and then another, all in firm rhythm; there was no uncertainty in her, nor in her gait. She saw the blue sky, and the road before her, and she heard the bustle of Fandom, and she felt...

...she felt a sweep of cold beyond her nose.

Her gait stuttered, then stopped. She looked over her shoulder and saw mountains.

"Cassandra!"

Her gaze snapped back. Candles. Runes. Empty vials. Bodies. And--

"Byron!"

[[ establishy! last five lines nfb due to distance. ]]