ben_hassrath | for skremisher [completed]

for skremisher [completed]

[ In days following his decision on the hill, Bull had struggled in coming to grips with the implications of what he had done. It had created a crisis of self for the Qunari, as he battled with just what it all had meant. He could no longer pretend to be two people, he had chosen, and that choice had been to remain loyal to the Qun. Bull did not regret this, because regretting the choice would have been disrespectful to the sacrifice his men had made. It hadn't made it any easier to deal with, but he allowed himself time to grieve, and those closest to him had made the process easier.

Now, he feels a whole man. He honors his Chargers by the work he does through the Inquisition, with each Venatori bastard he puts down with his own hands. Sometimes he'll toast to them, with others or on his own, tell (sometimes exaggerated) stories of their escapades as a mercenary band, keeping their memory alive, if only for his own sake. It's what he does to make things feel right.

Tonight, he's in his usual spot in the tavern, keeping to himself for the most part. Usually, he might be telling stories with his companions, or flirting with whoever's tending the bar, but tonight he's content to sit back and watch. He nurses a mug of (regular) ale, letting his mind wander as the bard in the corner plays. It gets easier with every passing day, not having them here with him, but that doesn't mean he likes it. ]

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[ Bull listens carefully, considering what the Krem-thing, or perhaps, what Krem, somehow Krem, is saying. He would think a demon meant to torment him would speak with more vitrol, would damn him for his actions on the Storm Coast. And to speak of being even... it perplexes him, but at least, at this point, the Qunari does not worry that he will be struck down where he sits.

Could he be like Cole, some sort of spirit of compassion, having taken his friend's form? This Krem doesn't speak in riddles and perplexities like Cole does, he sounds the same, in every facet. Bull tents his hands together at his mouth, just watching. He's torn in two ways, wanting to believe that this is Krem, his Krem, and at the same time, refusing to believe it. ]

Well, I'll give you this: you've got his voice down. [ Still wary, still distrustful. Even common folk are suspicious of spirits, and Bull even more so. He can apologize for it later, if need be. ] So, why are you here?

[ He's still working through this, hoping to hear something that will give him confirmation one way or the other. Such a moment might never come, but for now, he waits to make his decision. ]

[The apparition of Krem fell silent again at that question, looking down again at the bottle. It moved between his hands, brow furrowing as he watched it. The question Bull posed seemed to be offering up a moment of conflict for whatever sat next to the Qunari, Krem's eyes soon falling closed, hands going still.

There was a reason for his appearance. There was a reason Bull was able to see him.

The bard's words rang out over the crowd in the tavern, he soft tones making Krem tense up. Once we were in our peace, with our lives assured; once we were, not afraid of the dark. Those words made Krem bite his lip, opening his eyes and finally looking back to Bull.]

Let's go outside a minute. It's too loud in here.

[The Krem-shape made no attempt to rise.]

Meet me outside - near the practice dummies. Where you've been teaching me to shield-bash.

[ Bull watches him curiously, the way he suddenly tenses, connecting the reaction to the music. But why? Isn't that just the question of the night. Why any of this? He wonders if Krem could follow him, if he went elsewehre, if left Sky Hold for The Emerald Graves, The Hinterlands, the Storm Coast-- no, not the Storm Coast. But if he went elsewhere in Thedas, would he be pursued? ]

Alright.

[ Agreeing to speak with him outside is the closest Bull's come to an admission of belief. If he were sure that this Krem wasn't somehow the Krem he knew, he would refuse, or leave, but as it stands- Bull rises from his seat, sweeping his gaze across the tavern. No attention has been paid to the either of them, if attention can be paid to Krem at all. Maybe he is like Cole, somehow.

Outside the night is chilled, but not unbearably so. It's quieter, with most of the lower ranks currently filling the tavern. Only a few soldiers wander here and there. Bull lingers by the practice dummies, waiting. ]

[It was no sooner that Bull arrived at the practice dummies did Krem make his appearance again. He stepped out from near the few straw targets that Cassandra kept set up out here, wooden practice shield on his arm. It didn't look as though he'd followed Bull out of the tavern, he no longer held that bottle in hand either. Only that shield, though the scar on his face was visible in the moon's light.

No one else was out here. It was quiet, save for the chirping of distant crickets, the faint caw of a crow overhead. Krem folded his arms over his chest, looking at Bull - a vague sense of relief appearing on his face. Or perhaps it was just Bull's imagination. Perhaps all of this was Bull's imagination.

But it looked enough like Krem standing there, canting his head a bit to the side.]

You came.

[Krem - or the thing that wore his face - bit his lip a little, looking as though it had more to say. He relaxed a little, rolling his shoulders a little as he unfolded his arms, holding up that practice shield a little, the usual stance he'd assume when training with the Qunari.]

I'm glad for it. I'd thought for a moment that maybe you wouldn't.

[ In the few moments before Krem steps out of the shadows, Bull watches the entrance to the tavern. A few enter, but no one exits. This confirms only that Krem is not human, or not likely, but little else. He doesn't like not knowing, and part of him calls out to trust Krem, because it's Krem. He wants to. ]

Of course I did.

[ He tries to speak as though he's talking to the Krem he knows, but it's difficult. There's something about him that doesn't seem all there, and yet, he seems more real than some trick of his own mind. Something stirs in the pit of his stomach, guilt, the same guilt he had felt at the hill. Is that this thing's purpose? To torture him in subtle ways? Bull frowns. ]

Do you have an answer for me, or not?

[Krem's shoulders sagged again, lowering his stance. His arms seemed to go all but limp, that shield slipping further down his forearm. The younger mercenary's eyes stared forward, brow creased as he looked the Qunari in the eye. Demon, spirit, manifestation of Bull's guilt - those eyes were still Krem's but now, they were soulful and lost.

Bull wasn't the only one seeking answers.]

Why did you come here?

[Krem choked a little at the end, jaw tensing as he shut his mouth, breathing in. He balled his hands into fists, his body going rigid, clenching his teeth together.]

Why did you come here?

[His voice didn't crack but the pitch raised a little, shaking his head. His body had begun to tremble, the first true display of emotion that had come from this thing. Krem breathed in sharply through his nose, swallowing hard before opening his mouth, all but gasping now as he found his voice again - voice louder now, taking a step forward.]

Why did you come this time? You came this time -- but not when we needed you?

Edited (formatting!) 2014-12-28 19:41 (UTC)

[ This- this is what Bull has been waiting to hear. He's not sure which way it tips the scales in his mind, demon, spirit- it could be Krem, still, because Krem would feel this way, wouldn't he? Or would he understand? Bull holds his ground, remains steady, even while his mind works frantically.

He takes himself back to that moment, to that decision, with its lose/lose outcome. Does he cut off his right arm, or his left? ]

I couldn't have saved you.

[ His voice is low, more hushed than usual. He had thought about it then, if he sprinted, ran with everything he had-- he still never could have made it. Bull wants to reach out to him, comfort him in some way, but he's not sure if there's even anything there to touch. ]

You could have called for us to retreat. You saw them approach, you saw the numbers. You could have pulled us back - could've saved us.

[Krem's body was still trembling, his words coming quickly - pitch still higher than normal as he struggled to hold it all back. A demon would have shown its true nature at this point - a spirit would start to twist and become malformed. The only twisting that happened was on Krem's face, clenching his jaw as he tried in vain to remain composed.

His brow creased, moisture in his eyes that was visible in the moon's light. He blinked back whatever tears wanted to fall - frustration, sorrow, betrayal. He forced himself to breathe in, shaking his head.]

Why did you do it, Bull? You always said there was no family in the Qun... But what were we?

[ In a way, this is nothing he hasn't heard before. They're words he's spoken to himself hundreds of times over, words that have twisted their way into his head in the first few days following, trying to make him doubt everything. He had dealt with this, laid it to rest, laid his friends to rest- and now it was all being dredged up again, but this time it was coming straight from Krem's mouth. ]

The Qun demands sacrifice. [ As if that somehow explains everything, but he can't expect those outside the Qun to understand it. They never do. ] I'm sorry that it was yours.

[ He's trying to reiterate everything that he had told himself, everything that had helped him work through this. But his voice is uneven, his hands clenched at his sides. He doesn't want to do this, he can't do this, and yet he's frozen to the spot. ]

[It was Krem's turn to go still, falling silent, though that expression remained on his face. All that sorrow and betrayal, those lost eyes that had been seeking something more. It wasn't the first time Bull had seen those eyes, it wasn't the first time the man was faced with seeing the young man in such a state.

Unable to move back, struggling to move forward. The first time Bull saw those eyes, that's when the Chargers first formed. He'd given Krem purpose, just like the Qun was supposed to give Bull.

Krem's voice was quieter now, as though it were fading. Fading but still wracked with so much pain.]

In the end, we were expendable... We have been this whole time. Just another team of mercenaries, just another demand of your Qun.

[ Maybe he deserves this. Maybe this is the cosmic punishment he deserved, more than how he had punished himself. He sees something in Krem change, the way he seems to become less somehow. But he knows so little about spirits, only how to kill them, and not to trust them. His insides twist into knots, and his demeanor begins to crack, though slowly. If there was more he knew, information he could draw on that would somehow help- but there's nothing. ]

It saved lives, what you did. What all of you did. [ It's said like an offering of some sort, trying to calm this Krem-thing, he feels more that it's a thing. It makes it easier to think that way. ] Hundreds, if not thousands.

[There was silence for a long time, though Krem - whatever he might be - remained there, standing before Bull. His eyes continued to stare forward, mouth moving wordlessly for a moment, voice coming as nothing but silence. A whisper in the wind and in an instant, it could be heard.]

We saved so many... But why does it still hurt?

[Krem wet his lips, swallowing hard - Bull could see him trying to push back the lump in his throat. His body had stopped trembling, his hands loose, no longer balled into fists. Acceptance? Defeat? Or was it something more? It was still a struggle to get the words out, though his voice wasn't as faint now. Quiet - but not silent.]

Why do you you still feel so guilty? [Krem finally moved again, an uncertain, cautious step forward.] Of all the people we saved, we couldn't save The Iron Bull.

[He wasn't The Iron Bull any longer. People still said that name - but it wasn't the man he was now.]

[ Why does it still hurt... if only he knew the answer to that question, it might have saved him many long, sleepless nights. As it stands, he has no answers for either of them. It makes him shift uncomfortably where he stands, his discomfort showing more with each passing minute. If the point of this is to break him, somehow, it could be working. ]

I wish I could tell you the answer to that.

[ He needs to sit down, he thinks, but instead leans against the wall behind them, trying to take some weight off of himself, somehow. Bull rubs a hand over his face, trying to force his head to sort this all out. ]

[As Bull leaned against the wall, Krem took another step forward, something more deliberate. Something with more purpose.The questions asked up until now have been ones without a straight answer, ones with so many variables. All the time Bull had spent putting it to rest, all the time he'd tried to bury it - it was all coming to light now.

That was why Krem was here, standing before him. There was strength there now, the young mercenary's back straightening, his chin being held a little higher. Those tears were still there though, visible in his eyes but not daring to fall. Chargers didn't cry. They kept their horns pointing up.]

Just be honest with yourself... And give it to me straight - what did the Chargers mean to you? Not to the Qun, not to the Inquisition. What were we?

[ Bull inhales deeply, turning his gaze towards the night sky, thinking. He's had enough dug up out of him for one night, but the digging has not yet ended. When he looks back at Krem, sees the look on his face, it makes his stomach sink. How much worse can he feel tonight? It seems endless. ]

You were never supposed to be anything to me. [ It's the plain, simple truth. The Chargers were only meant to be a front, a way to worm his way into the dealings of Orlesian nobles. ] But I can't deny that you all did, you were my comrades, my friends.

[Krem's steps halted, a few paces away from where Bull was leaning now. His tone was less accusatory now, a note of genuine curiousity to be had. A stark change from where the younger mercenary's tone had been but moments ago - but this was truly what it all boiled down to.

Despite the surges of emotion Krem had shown, the ups and downs - this was the question he'd needed to ask. In the end, this was what mattered the most.]

When this is all over... Will you turn yourself in to the re-educators? [He wet his lips, hands slowly moving into fists again.] Will you let yourself forget us?

[ The change in tone offers him some form of relief, makes him feel less like he stands on trial. Still, the question hits him hard, and it pushes his thinking back towards the idea that this really could be Krem. ]

They can pry those memories away from me when I'm dead and bloody. [ He scoffs, as though the question itself offends him. ] I'll never forget my Chargers.

[It's those words that slowly make Krem's expression change, corners of his mouth turning into a smile. Those were the words he was looking to hear, the words that would assuage even his deepest fears. Bull wasn't going to forget him. The Chargers meant something more to him. They weren't simply another band of mercenaries, a step he needed to fulfil the Qun's demands.

The Chargers belonged to Bull. A memory he wouldn't let die.

There was something genuine in those eyes of his, a warmth that seemed to spread through Krem's face. His eyes, even if they were still wet, were filled with pride. He lived as a Charger, he died as a Charger. Everything he did had been for the Iron Bull - and it wasn't an effort in vain.]

The Qun's always been what's given you purpose... But the Chargers were that for me. Thanks Chief - for giving me a purpose, making me feel like I belonged somewhere.

[He wet his lips a little, looking far more relaxed now, holding out his arms.]

And thanks... For bringing me back here.

[ It lifts some weight off his chest, to see that he's said the right thing. More than that, what he said was the truth. It's true that he was never supposed to become close to the ragtag group of people that made up the Bull's Chargers, but that was how it had happened, and he wouldn't trade that for anything. Bull pushes himself off from the wall, stepping towards Krem. ]

I brought you here?

[ It's a quiet question, barely falling from his lips. He doesn't know if Krem will have an answer for that, he doesn't know if an answer exists. Maybe it doesn't matter. If Krem is a figment of his own imagination, or an echo, or a spirit in true... this brings some semblance of peace for the both of them. He looks at the mans outstretched arms, wondering if there is anything there to touch. ]

You were the best lieutenant any man could ask for. Thank you for that, Krem.

You did. Brought us all here.

[Bull spread their remains over the wall, let their ashes carry across Skyhold. Krem's smile remained, arms still stretched out. Whatever he might be, he seemed real enough in this moment, all that pride and warmth in his eyes.]

You gave me a happy life these past years. Even when things were tough, even when I nearly lost my head. You - and the Chargers - were the best thing that ever happened to me, Chief.

[He couldn't help but let out a laugh, breathing in as he blinked quickly a few times, to hold back the tears in his eyes. Chargers didn't cry.]

You're going to rail on me for being a sap in a minute but it's the truth. I've never been happier - or prouder - to serve someone.

[ He understands now, as much as he can understand this situation. It makes something inside him hurt, ache, but it's a good ache. He's proud of his men, he always have been, proud of their work and of their sacrifice. Come what may, their memory will never be stripped from him, and you can be sure that'll he be telling tales about the Chargers for as long as people have ears to listen with. ]

I'll save it for the other side.

[ He smiles, his voice softer, hushed, humbled by the gravity of this interaction. He assumes they will meet again, some day, once something eventually takes Bull out (he hopes it's something big, monstrous) but until then, the jokes can wait. This opportunity may never come again. ]

I was lucky to have you in my company, Krem. I'm thankful for that.

[Krem's arms finally dropped to his sides again, straightening out as he nodded to his leader. There was a warmth in the air now, something light and airy - like the tavern felt when all the Chargers were together. Something joyous, something fond. Krem reached up to rub at his eyes with the side of his hand, wiping away the wetness there.]

Just keep your horns up, Chief - and we'll be waiting. We'll be fighting right there with you. I've always had you back, haven't I?

[Krem lowered his hand, that smile across his face - proud and strong. Everything Bull remembered Krem to be.]

Just don't let them take us from you. They took our lives but don't let them take our legacy.

[ Bull can feel the change in the air, feeling more relaxed now, or something close to it. His gaze remains transfixed on Krem, and in these moments he seems more a man than a spirit, the person that Bull had fought beside on the battlefield and laughed with off it. He feels something sudden swell up in his chest, catch in throat-- a sob, that he chokes on. Bull drags his hand down his face, muttering something in Qunlat, trying to collect himself. ]

Horns up, Krem. [ He lets out a sigh that seems to run through him, makes him shudder. ] They'll be singing about the Chargers for as long as they have voices to sing with.

[Krem let out a small laugh through his nose, hesitating for a moment before he brought his hands up to his head. He held them as fists at the sides, raising his index fingers on either hand - making them look like little horns sprouting from his head. It was a juvenile display, nothing impressive but it was playful. A playful gesture between the two men, a chiding mimicry of sorts between the pair.

Horns up.]

Make sure Maryden sings our song tonight. I want to see every bastard in that tavern raise a glass in victory.

[ This entire time, Bull has managed to remain relatively calm, his emotions heavily guarded. He doesn't understand why it's now, when things seem to be easier, lighter, that he feels a deep pain in his chest. He's crying, he realizes, and though it's silent he still presses his hand over his good eye, trying to hide it. There's no point in doing so, he's sure Krem's already seen it, but it's more a point of pride. ]

You've got it. We'll open up a cask of the good stuff, the best stuff.

[ He misses Krem, misses all of them, so deeply. It hurts. ]

[Krem closed his eyes, lowering his head a bit - though Bull could still see his expression. He looked to be at peace, content. His shoulders relaxed a little more, breathing in before opening his eyes and looking to his friend. Krem had tears that matched Bull's own - blinking them away as best he could, though a few fell to his cheeks, the same as the ones falling from Bull's good eye.]

Break it open with an axe for me - and don't stop until it's drained. Sing, laugh and rejoice. You and the Inquisition still have a war ahead of you. Fight on and fight proud.

[He wet his lips, bringing a hand up to wipe at his eyes and his nose.]

There's an old Tevene phrase my father used to tell me. Perfer et obdura; dolor hic tibi proderit olim. [His native language didn't roll off the tongue as nicely as some - it was still rough around the edges, like Krem himself.] Just keep it in mind - and keep moving forward.

Come on, Krem...

[ Though he hates to be in this state in front of anyone, much less Krem, it's a pain that he had been withholding for far too long. It's finally allowed out, released, and while it's embarrassing, it's cathartic. He had denied himself this for far too long. ]

You know I don't understand that crap.

[ Which is to say, translation please. ]

[Krem's hands came up to wipe his eyes again, sniffling as his palms tried to wipe those tears from his cheeks. His eyes were red, still watering as he spoke, stubborn tears refusing to stop.]

I know. You didn't even know what that bastard Tribune was saying when you jumped in, when you grabbed that one's arm and his knife found your eye. It was okay though - he didn't have that arm much longer. You didn't care what they were saying, what language they spoke. You were a mad bull, seeing red. Helped me teach 'em a lesson, helped patch me up.

You didn't care if I was a Vint like them. I was bleeding, you ripped my shirt to see - you saw everything underneath.

[Krem's voice cracked a little, pausing to choke back a sob. His hands scrubbed at his eyes again, taking a moment to breathe. He shook his head and looked up again, sniffling once more.]

You didn't care. You were the first person who didn't care.

[And that had meant everything to him. He struggled to hold back another sob, hands down at his side and balled into fists.]

Perfer et obdura; dolor hic tibi proderit olim. [He repeated it again, straightening his back and doing his best to stand at attention.] Means, "Be patient and strong; someday this pain will be useful to you".

[ Bull reaches out towards him, afraid of what he'll touch, or rather, what he won't touch. Right now, all he wants to do is to be able to put his hand on Krem's shoulder, but- he's startled when his fingers hit something solid, Krem's shoulder. He doesn't know how it's possible, and doesn't care to ask. ]

What the fuck else could I have done? Let them string you up?

[ He pulls Krem to him, certain that it will be only air, but there's something solid there and he's thankful for that. In this moment, he wants... just to remember the man Krem was, remember the years of wild antics they've shared. ]

Vint or not, couldn't have let them, they didn't even know a good man when they saw one.

[ And Krem had been nothing short of a good man. He scoffs at the translation, but it's lighthearted. ]

Figures it'd be something like that.

[ Something that pierces him, something he'll never forget. ]

[As Bull pulled him close, Krem's arms wrapped around the man - stretched as far as they could around his much wider frame. He pressed his face against his chest, tears against that grey skin and falling onto Bull's harness. Krem's fingers dug into Bull's back, gripping him as hard as he could - hard enough for the man to feel that embrace, to feel that Krem was right there.]

You're such a bastard sometimes, Chief.

[His voice cracked again at those words, muffled against Bull's chest. The words were spoken with affection, Krem unable to stop himself from rubbing his cheek against his friend, wanting that contact for just a moment more. He was quiet for a time - maybe a few seconds, maybe a few minutes, it was impossible to tell.]

In a minute... I'll be gone. Your arms are around a practice dummy out here - and you're feeling something wet because it's starting to rain. I'm not here anymore - but I had to say goodbye.

[ Krem will be gone. It something he can barely process, something he doesn't want to think about. These last few moments mean more than he can ever say, ever express. If it's al in his head or not, he doesn't care. He got a chance to say goodbye, more than he ever deserved. ]

Krem, don't...

[ Don't go, he wants to say, but there's nothing he can do that will allow him to stay. He can't even bring himself to say the word "goodbye", everything else will just have to do in its place. ]

[And that was it. Krem was silent - and though Bull still felt something hard against his chest, there was no warmth to it. There were no longer arms around his middle, no more fingers clutching at his back.

Raindrops fell onto his shoulders, starting out slow before they grew heavier, beating down on him. Figment of Bull's mind, a spirit, a demon - whatever this had been, it was gone now.

Krem, and the Chargers, were no more.]

[ And just like that, Krem is gone, if he ever was there at all. Bull stands alone in the rain, with nothing, no one, in his arms. He doesn't know how to categorize what he just experienced, if any of it was real. Maybe it wasn't, maybe it was his way of processing his grief, but he chooses to believe otherwise.

It's something he'll keep to himself, maybe one day the Inquisitor will coax it out of him, but for now, it's his and his alone. Bull remains out in the rain, frozen to the spot. Minutes pass that feel like years before he finally moves again. He's heading back into the tavern, with the usual swagger in his step and a familiar tune on his lips, in the form of a whistle.

No matter what tomorrow holds, our horns are pointing up. ]

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for skremisher [completed]

work all day = rp all day

if only we coul be paid to RP...

my dream job lol

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I hope you packed a lunch for this feels trip

big ol bite of a feels sandwich

I forgot my permission slip I need to get off the bus

1. lay down on the floor 2. try not to cry 3. cry a lot

☐ not rekt ☑ rekt

it's all ogre now

hissrad is love. hissrad is life.

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CRIES

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my brain is on the fritz sry

It's all good!

on my second playthrough and doing demands of the qun.... cry

Don't kill them this time!! Look at what you're doing to Bull.

I DID but that mission still breaks my heart

:V clearly we need to do another thread of Krem helping Bull deal with being Tal-Vashoth now

it's like you read my mind...

Sometimes we need a happy.

they definitely deserve some

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how I feel about this thread: http://i.imgur.com/06HPutB.jpg

me right now - http://i.imgur.com/xapScYz.gif

to sum things up: http://i.imgur.com/m7Ey7EM.gifv