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[unabatedly]

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sansa - synverse

[unabatedly]

[ Adjusting to Liminal Space again has proven...difficult. Worse yet are the forays into other worlds and spaces and Neria comes back not quite herself. Scattered, uncertain. It is hard to disguise and near impossible to ignore in the quiet spaces in Liminal Space when she desperately attempts to give herself room to breathe.

She carefully constructs a doorway to another part of Ferelden, to a sheltered wood near a clearing and a lake that is close to her heart. In the distance, there are sounds of a camp and the gentle light of a bonfire, cheerful voices just out of hearing. Neria has removed her boots and rolled up her pants to allow herself some relaxation, dipping her toes in the cool perceived water. All is quiet until she hears footsteps, and she rises to her feet and reaches for her staff.

Her surprise is not concealed when Sansa comes into view. ]

Lady Sansa?

Syn Verse

[willyousee]

Alcuin's dungeon has left him exhausted, but with all his friends currently working through another's dungeon, he cannot remain still. Retreating to a quiet, open space, he collects a staff from a weapons rack and hefts it in his hands. Without his teachers, there is but one person who would be the best for this.

Bowing his head, he brings her face to the forefront of his mind. The bright smile, the weight upon her shoulders, the touch of her hands upon his, the authority of her voice. Lady Warden Commander Neria Surana.

[unabatedly]

Remaining conscious in the Fade when the body is sleeping is no complicated matter for mages. What Liminal Space can do, of course, is very different...and the Neria that takes shape is not entirely herself. She is a ghost in the veil and little else, though she retains everything that Neria is - her memories, her emotions, her power, her knowledge - without actually retaining any physical form. True, she cannot know and cannot feel what the real Neria does at this present time, her body and mind returned to Thedas after a fashion (or perhaps she is still in Liminal Space, running circles, displaced in time and reality).

Needless to say, she does form before Alcuin with a practiced ease, her form incorporeal, a veritable visage and nothing more. Still, it takes a moment for 'Neria' to focus herself, looking surprised and nearly disoriented at the sudden shift in what is real and what is un-real. "Oh-- Alcuin?"

[canbebrave]

[ Sansa, too, struggles with her rereturn to life as a traveler. Amongst the greatest struggles- learning to trust and lean upon others again. It is harder than she had thought it would be- so she seeks out someone solid, who she can trust. Neria. Surely, the Lady Neria will understand her.

She ignores the discomfort in her heart as she ignores the sounds of camp, reminiscent of days long gone. She ducks down through a cluster of trees- smiling slightly as Neria turns to look upon her.]

I'm sorry my Lady, I hadn't meant to interrupt you--

[unabatedly]

No, no. You didn't interrupt me.

[ She didn't, really. She's not doing much, just dwelling on her own thoughts. Neria brushes off her trousers and sets her staff back against the tree, certain that Sansa and she will be safe. She gestures for the other girl to come closer. With a wave of a hand, she casts, summoning spell wisps to light up the darkness a little bit, like spirit fireflies. ]

Come sit with me. I was just taking some time to myself.

[ Wallowing, really, but it's all she really does sometimes. ]

What's brought you here?

[canbebrave]

[ She's grateful for the wisps, they make it easier for her to move without stumbling in the dark. At the reassurance, she comes forward, carefully stepping over tree roots to meet her friend by the water side, gathering her skirts and sitting beside her.]

I had hoped you might be somewhere like this. Liminal Space is... too loud, right now. [Too much happening, too many reminders of her failures.] I thought, perhaps, I might enjoy your company.

[unabatedly]

People are...distressed.

[ It's the kindest way of putting it. As successful as the Jaunt might have been - and in truth, who can measure 'success' beyond a favorable and smooth return to the divide in un-reality - its effects will be felt for a long, long time, and it shows in the way some of the others have clamored to be heard.

It's too easy for unbridled and upset voices to wreck havoc on Liminal Space, worse still that it becomes difficult for others to bear. She gives Sansa a small smile, hoping to assure her somewhat. ]

It will pass. It always does. But it's important we look after each other in times like these. We risk becoming jaded and tired.

[ She sits again to dip her feet back into the water. ]

I wonder if that is not the goal of all of this. To see who rises and who falls. It's a cruel game.

[canbebrave]

I know. Things shall balance. [She nods in agreement, smoothing over her skirts, keeping her pretty slippers away from the waters edge.]

I try and remember that, at least. Perhaps, after a slight break, I can help make things make better. [She's not so sure she will be able to, but it's a nice thought. Unlike the next one- a frown growing across her face at mention of the Trumps crueltry.]

You shouldn't say that, my Lady. It isn't so cruel as it could be. Not since....

[unabatedly]

A little booze, perhaps a shift of Liminal Space... Leonardo shall have his workshop up and running. I can make something for others to enjoy, though it will be limited.

[ But having a few stable luxuries in the middle of the shifts of Liminal Space are sometimes considered a godsend.

Neria looks over at Sansa, lifting an eyebrow in curiosity. ]

Not since...?

[canbebrave]

It will help rally a few of us together, at the very least. It's good, for you to remember what happened the last time we fell apart. You help keep us solid, my Lady.

[She squirms a little when Neria asks for clarification.] ... Since Moebius. Nothing has been too cruel, since then.

[unabatedly]

I don't want to forget.

[ Not this time. Moebius slipped by her, a world she sees every so often in her nightmares without proper rhyme or reason, and she never knows if what she sees is true or something twisted by what she has heard.

Sansa gets her attention, and Neria reaches for her friend's hand. ]

Do you remember what happened then?

[canbebrave]

[She almost draws away- but the lingering darkness in her mind keeps her close, threading her fingers through Neria's]

Only bits- screaming, and the name. It was dark, I think. The only thing clear is Ser Joscelin's face. [He had been by her side ever since. Had he been there before? She can't remember anymore.] I just... know it was awful.

[unabatedly]

[ It's more than Neria has. She remembers that darkness too. She remembers the blood. Some scars, she thinks, are from that time...but she remembers nothing from before, and so she cannot know. In answer, she squeezes Sansa's hand. ]

You remember more than I. It is not a blessing.

[ No, even that much is too cruel for Sansa. ]

I dream of it sometimes. But I do not know if what I see has any truth to it, or if what I see is fabricated from what I have heard...and what I fear might have occurred.

[canbebrave]

No. It is not. But I suppose it ought not be dwelled on. [She smiles at Neria, but it's strained this time.]

I still believe the Trumps to be kind to us, to ring us here. To bring us together, like this. [To take her away from her home.]

[unabatedly]

It is a way to remember our mistakes, I think.

[ But she understands. It is painful. She slides a little closer until their knees meet, offering comfort in her presence. Her other hand rests atop Sansa's. ]

I am not so certain. Their trap is both curse and boon at times. I know they may not mean to harm us, not all of us, but...

[ She wonders what their purpose is, and why some have gone and some have stayed. ]

It is almost a reprieve from the troubles of our homes, if only for some time.

[canbebrave]

[Sansa does not draw back. She trusts in Neria, almost completely. Her eyes even flutter shut a moment.]

I know it is a cruelty to some. But it is a kind sort of cruelty, to me. I would rather be their pawn, than others. [Shes always been a little quick to defend the Trumps.]

Even if it's only for a bit, I am greatful.