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Tweak says, "Where's the cream filling?"

ciɳɗy (ciɳɗɛʀɛʆʆɑ) ѵɑkɑʀiɑɳ (silvershoes) wrote in valarlogs,
@ 2016-11-11 08:38:00

Entry tags:

!complete, cindy cendrillon (cinderella), leliana

Who: Cindy & Leliana
What: Taking a tour of a fortress and drinking Orlesian wine while doing some wedding favor planning
When: Today!
Where: Skyhold, mostly in the rookery
Rating/Warnings: Low, save for sloshy drunken ladies
Status: Complete

Solar panels had been the latest installments in regards to the Skyhold ‘Modernization’ Project, but during her visits Leliana did her best to not use the luxury too much. It didn’t seem necessary during the day and there was a part of her that enjoyed basking in natural light - beams from the sun casting down from the roof of the rookery or the flicker of a flame. It was the glow of an oil lantern that was currently their guide through the archaic structure, as she was determined to offer her baby bird an authentic experience throughout Skyhold.

First it was through what’d once been Solas’ quarters, his art on the walls, telling the progress of their adventures as time had passed. Very bittersweet considering he had turned on them, but Leliana didn’t dwell there too much. Then was the circular library with bookshelves overflowing with musty text, rolled up scrolls and stations for research on the second floor - from there, they could hear the coos of messenger ravens from above. The last flight of stone steps lead she and Cindy to their destination; the location of Skyhold that she’d once considered home.

Considering her feathery companions were from the same world, they’d felt more at home here - the cages dangled from above, along with some Thedosian paraphernalia akin to windchimes. Baron Plucky, BonBon, and Countess Lune had been perched on top of the cages but the arrival of their redheaded caretaker had them alerted so they flew in a bit closer.

“Spy headquarters back then were so simple, no?” she chuckled, setting the lantern on her desk. Matches were retrieved from her bag so the pillar candles could be lit, adding warmth to that rustic ambiance. “No hidden cameras or microphones, none of that technology that gives us the illusion of simplicity when it actually makes things so much more complicated.”

Skyhold was pretty awesome, there was no other word to describe it. The fortress, its history and its hardiness, reminded Cindy of a certain structure in her (oftentimes depressing, sometimes noir) dreamworld, namely, the one lone remaining castle in the Homelands - also a place cloaked in history, it stood the test of time and multiple attacks from the Adversary.

That chill to it as well, climbing the steps caused her to shiver, the air damp and feeling like chainmail - before the candles were lit, everything resembled twilight and gave the perception it was later in the day than it actually was. But with the illumination, the space around them glowed. “Plus, the ravens no doubt were good at traveling with messages - less chance of someone intercepting a cell phone signal,” she chuckled, rubbing her arms in her charcoal-and-magenta striped hoodie to bring some warmth to her skin. The look of awe in her cottony blue eyes was obvious.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married here. Wow.”

Very true - her ravens also proved to be very reliable methods of transferring intel as they weren’t prone to betrayal. Leliana softly giggled, snuffing out the match once the candles were all lit, wax in the process of melting and dripping on the sides. “It is quite the sight,” she smiled, but it was all also very personal to her. Memories were contained in these walls. “Trevelyan is doing his best to add some upgrades but also keep its authenticity. It has been a challenge keeping the right balance of modern necessities and keeping its spirit alive, but I think it’s going well.”

The purple cowl around her head was pulled back. “Once the path is cleared and there is a more accessible way to reach this place? I plan to be here more often. It is…soothing. I spent most of my time here - the other location was the war room, mostly for strategic purposes and figuring out were the best routes to place my agents. It was mostly all work and no play, alas, but it was home for a long time.”

“I can imagine it’s sort of a challenge - given how spoiled we are by modern conveniences,” Cindy nodded; she glanced up, and the ceiling of the rookery appeared to be miles away. The space seemed to go on forever, and she squinted as the light beaming in from the very tippy top of the structure hit her eyes. Reminding her it was still daytime, clearly. “But there are just some things that deserve to be preserved and remembered.”

It was a concept that the Mundy’s (or Mundanes, really) in her dreamworld didn’t always understand. A damn shame that Fabletown, kind of a refugee camp for those fleeing the Homelands, had eventually ceased to exist - it was no more, now washed away and merged completely with the human world. “Like fairytales,” she added, smiling coyly. Yes, she definitely believed those stories shouldn’t ever become dust in the wind.

She stepped closer to the desk, brushing her fingers along the edge. “You slept here and everything? When you managed to sleep?” All work and no play, as Leliana had said. But still.

“The tale of Cinderella and her various incarnations are a timeless stories - those won’t die,” Leliana tacked on, winking to her friend. Now that the mood was set, she fished through the bag of supplies. They’d popped into Herald’s rest for a bottle of Orlesian wine, something sweet and tart. Reminiscent of a lambic ale, the one she’d selected was crafted from raspberries and black cherries - rich flavor and a deep color.

Dust had gathered on it. It’d been aged, but time was a positive addition to its profile. A switchblade was retrieved from her back pocket to stab the cork, twist, and pop. “I had a bed elsewhere but it was not often slept in. I was always very restless - but I was accustomed to functioning on a couple hours of sleep.” There were times where her eyelids would betray her and she’d be lulled into a slumber, though she was always good at keeping busy - her trade was secrets and blood, making those hard, necessary decisions and acting on them.

There weren’t any glasses to drink from but she didn’t mind passing the bottle between the two of them. Leliana wasn’t afraid of her baby bird’s germs! “Have a taste - you enjoy framboise, no? The taste is similar.”

Ooh, Orlesian wine - that was a treat, and Cindy had quite a few bottles of other fermented wonders she’d collected on her own wine rack back at the house. “Framboise? I do enjoy it, yeah, I could easily plow through a bottle of that stuff during a Netflix binge,” she chuckled, taking the bottle and lifting it in a bit of a toast. Cheers! The first sip was pleasant, flavor practically bursting on her tastebuds. Delicious. She knew her mama bird was a bit of a wino - it was why she’d booked the bridal shower where she did, at a cozy restaurant tucked away from the usual tourist trap; the party would take place partly in the wine cellar, bottles ranging in price from hundreds to thousands, and appetizers like caviar, foie gras, and salads with ingredients like ‘teardrop tomatoes.’

“That’s really good,” she hiccuped after her next sip, already feeling flushed, and hopped up on the desk to perch on the edge and let her feet dangle (they didn’t quite touch the floor - no remarks about her shortness). “Is everything mainly set for the wedding? And honeymoon? If you need me to do anything else, I’m at your beck and call as Matron of Honor.”

Only mental remarks on her shortness! Cindy’s tininess would never not be adorable, and Leliana took her place beside her - and in contrast, her feet did mostly reach the floor. “All the immediate things are done, Paris has been booked, and an old friend made sure the villa is still doing well.” An old agent in the area, of course - the property had been used on occasion for ‘work purposes’ when something took place overseas and there were times she’d let Rosa use it as a station if need be, but it needed to be ‘honeymoon ready’ by the time December rolled around.

Weapons put away, get rid of the blood if there was any. That sort of thing.

Her lips puckered for a low-pitched whistle, a summon of none other than Baron Plucky. On black wings he soared the short distance from his perch to her arm, and typically she’d have some kind of protection on her arm for the talons (accidental cuts happened), but the long-sleeve she wore would have to do. The former bard had to coo at him a little before continuing. “Flowers have been ordered for the hanging bouquets we’ll be having. Picasso calla lillies? They’ll have that splash of color among all the white.”

Not like white was supposed to represent something virginal and pure for their wedding, Maker, no - she and Gale were both far from either of those descriptions. But she was using the winter-theme to its full potential, and she thought it’d look very classy overall.

Only Leliana would name a bird that was symbolic of death and straight out of a Poe novel Baron Plucky. It was as good as Bonbon, and so very her. Cindy grinned at the approach of the bird with sleek black feathers and those beady onyx eyes. “Flowers are definitely good to have - and the whole ambiance of the tavern is rustic and beautiful anyway,” she said, taking another swig from the bottle.

“Should I browse Pinterest for reception favor ideas?” she asked. “Something simple, not ridiculous, yet useful for guests? For a winter wedding, I’ve seen like...macarons - you know, kind of French-themed - or coffee, hot chocolate, candied almonds which symbolize wealth and happiness? Then there was a medieval-ish tiny bottle of blackberry jam, I totally pinned it. There was also this s’mores package - graham crackers, chocolate, a marshmallow. Less medieval, totally cute.”

Yes, she was a little excited - but how could you not be. Pinterest research was done all in the name of helping out her friend with one of the most important days of her life. Getting caught in a black hole on the interwebs was an understandable side effect.

Baron Plucky was so noble, and very majestic. Leliana had done well training them. In Skyhold they were some of her dearest companions. There was a special agent assigned to care for the other nugs, you see, off-site - in the scenario there was an attack on this fortress she didn’t want to put her dirt-dwellers at risk, and the ravens had the method of escaping by flight. They’d follow her through the air, however, very much bonded with their mistress.

After it was her turn to take a sip from the Orlesian bottle, she passed it back to free her hand and give the bird a gentle scritch around his feathery neck. “I’m thinking of going with totally cute,” she smiled again. “I think the venue itself is medieval enough, and Gale and I are having touches of our dreamworld here and there. I did see the s’mores package you speak of, though, I have about six different packaging styles pinned on my board already for options.”

Because why wouldn’t she? Leliana was a Pinterest fiend, there was an entire board of wintry visuals dedicated for wedding inspiration when it came to lighting and arrangements.

“I think I want to try and make them instead of ordering - Miss Hazelle and Posy have been dying to help out, and I think it will be something we could do all together when they come in?”

“S’mores are completely perfect for a winter wedding.” And a hell of a lot more interesting than something like chocolate coins, or whatever - those tended to be nasty anyway and probably ordered from a vendor. Cindy liked the idea of the favor being homemade; hers definitely was, and it added that personal touch for guests to take home with them.

She pulled her legs up beneath her, to sit lotus-style on the desk while taking sips from the bottle when it was her turn, comfortable with passing it back and forth and comfortable with the crackling buzz that began to work its way through her veins. “Making them with the in-laws sounds nice too. You’d just need like, cellophane and some pretty twine to tie it all together? Up to you whether you want a cheesy saying on the card - here’s s’more love,” she quipped (not that she made it up, it was a popular choice on Pinterest).

And, yes, very cute.

Oh, Maker. A giggle erupted into a full-blown laugh, a sound that surprised Baron Plucky enough for him to decide it was best to flap his wings and perch himself on the back of a wooden chair instead - it was better for his talons, anyway - but he kept close to the ladies while he preened those sleek, black-oil feathers.

“Aw, sorry, Baron,” Leliana apologized with a pout but still looked ever so tickled. “That is simply adorable, Cindy-lou, I love it. Any leftovers we will have to take to your place for proper disposal. It is nearing that time of year for your fire pit! If you do not mind having them over as well.”

Her almost mother-in-law and sister-in-law, that was. Hoping nothing bizarre would happen during their visit (Gale worried about that, often), they were the only family she could share with her friends considering her very bleak, non-existent bloodties. Her mother had passed and her father was out there, somewhere - he lived still, because of course she had that intel on him but she had literally no interest in reaching out.

Yep, the firepit in the backyard of the Vakarian household definitely got its mileage. It was one of Cindy’s favorite parts of the house - she was so glad that they’d decided to put one in, when beginning anew after the explosion of her cottage in Huntington Beach’s historical district. “Of coooooourse,” she drawled, the mint juleps and swaying magnolia trees creeping into her tone. “I’d love to have them over - bring ‘em all, we’ll have a s’mores party. Maybe just a whole big roast also, to welcome them to the OC.”

Honestly, being here was kind of a trip. If it was Hazelle, Rory, and Posy’s first time they’d be in for a treat. Probably because by then, it’d be snowing. Dollars to donuts that was what happened - it had for the past couple of years, that Cindy could recall.

“My husband will wear the glamour,” she added, with a wink. “Unless they’re Mass Effect fans.” A full-blown Turian in Turian form could be a little much to see at first - easing the Hawthorne’s in was best.

Not that she was aware of, no, but she didn’t think the Hawthorne family was quite ready for their first official contact with alien life form, even if it would be technically happening under their nose? Easing them into how odd this place could be would be something that needed to happen, but Leliana was also all for not giving them all the gory details. Like how Gale had woken up barely moving from being whipped in another life.

Time for Nightingale to hog the bottle this turn, sips of the berry wine turning into two, maybe even three gulps - her cheeks were a little pink but her liver was rather sturdy, all things considered. And imbibing also always made her extra giggly with an increase of that decadent Français accent. “By then, yes, ‘tis the season for roasting marshmallows over an open flame, you’re the most precious maid of honor.” There was a smooch she smacked onto Cindy’s cheek for gratitude. “Speaking of, are we not supposed to be expecting some kind of alien invasion sometime in the future?”

Did it happen and they just didn’t noticed? That’d be nice.

Cindy relinquished the bottle, leaning back a little on her hands and swinging her legs. This way she could look up, see everything upside down as the ceiling loomed above. “Oh, that,” a sigh escaped her then - because that had been at the top of the ‘impending doom’ list for quite some time. Damn, felt like a year already? It couldn’t have been that long though.

“Sometime in the future,” Cinderella shrugged. “Garrus is still keeping an eye out. He hasn’t said anything new to me, regarding any potential invasion - so it’s been quiet since August or so, which was when some space crusaders took out one Reaper. Apparently an invasion means, obviously, they’ll arrive in the thousands - and even just that one was hard to kill.”

She’d studied up on her Mass Effect lore too, in addition to what Garrus told her. Reapers were nasty business.

An invasion by the thousands from the precipice of the galaxy? Leliana doubted this planet’s intelligence and technology was equipped or advance enough to deal with an onslaught from outer space, but apparently someone had a plan - otherwise she assumed there would be more panic spread throughout.

“Anything on ground we will be able to handle?” she questioned, just as a form of pre-planning; her former network of agents were all well-aware of the happenings here, and their skills were vast. If anything they could provide combative support or civilian evacuation from behind the scenes. “Last time I truly stretched these muscles was when the breach occurred. All that constant demon slaying, then being pulled into the Fade - though that is not to say I am rusty.”

‘Retirement’ didn’t mean lazing around. Her skills remained sharp. It was a necessity living here.

“There will no doubt be lots of shit on the ground to handle,” Cindy promised. “Hopefully it won’t get to the point where the Earth’s swarmed by these damn things, and apparently there are plans for a super weapon to combat them - but should anything break through and rain down on us, then we’ll need all the heavy hitters we can get.”

Close attacks, ranged ones, even people just keeping normal, everyday average Joe civilians calm - as calm as they could be, given the circumstances. But should more than one or two Reapers break through? Clearly the planet was fucked, in that case. It had better not be the outcome, after all this time.

Now she needed another drink. Excuse her while she stole the bottle for an unladylike bit of glugging.

Glug away, Cinderella. Skyhold still had an impressive abundance, and it was typically her that would indulge in fine Orlesian wine - that sweet tooth had to be satisfied (alcoholic sweetness was a plus) and it reminded her of whatever innocence she’d once had, in Thedas. Before Justinia, before her mantle as the Left Hand of the Divine, before the influence of Marjolaine.

“Please let it happen after my wedding,” Leliana suddenly thought with a dreadful sigh. And by the light of Andraste, now she’d rush Cindy’s drinking so she could get to it quickly next - Gale might have an aneurysm if his family was exposed to an alien invasion. Merde. “It seems as though whatever impact we’re to expect will be a show of destruction, so I hope the recovery goes smoothly? And everything we hold dear remains standing.”

Shoegasm had been threatened last time with the rifts swirling around them, unleashing the horrors of the Fade, but she imagined an outright invasion would be less merciless its onslaught. Less ability for controlling their containment, she’d imagine.

No doubt that destruction would be an unfortunate side effect, Cindy knew that - she couldn’t rely on the Normandy and those capable of flying up into the galaxy to take out the threat. They had to be prepared on the ground too, for whatever came their way. “Shelters will be a thing too,” she added. “I know Garrus has been chatting about it with a friend of his at the Agency as well, so, we’ll get those squared away beforehand and then - when the time comes - have a place people can actually go to.”

There were already bomb shelters in the OC, from an era of war long since past; renovating those seemed to be in the Agency’s best interest. She’d volunteer to help with that, however she could. And then she’d be out there fighting as she always did.

“We’ll survive though. We always do,” she smiled a bit, thoughtful and resolute.

There was the daintiest of hiccups that squeaked from Leliana, snatching the neck of the bottle to gauge the remainder of the wine. Almost depleted, alas! Ah, well. They did need to sober up before their trek back down to avoid any tragic hiking accidents. There was still plenty of time however, and the fresh air of nature would get them back to their wits.

“I suppose that’s typically the truth,” she softly snorted, gulping almost all of it down - she’d let baby bird finish it off. “Meanwhile I think we have some scraps of clothes around and crafted armor, too - many times we made our own here with the materials salvaged during missions.” A playful pinch was delivered at Cindy’s side. “Let us go play some dress up?”

Baby Bird would indeed finish the wine, all the wine! - and she seized the bottle in her clutches to get the last drops gracefully. With a delighted mmmm, and bones that now felt sloshy, she hopped off the desk - and only wobbled a tee tiny tad, so that was definitely a good sign for impending sobriety down the mountain.

“Dress up!” She sounded so excited, like Leliana just suggested they blow off work and get sloppy drunk. Maybe the sloppy drunk part was happening, and they were blowing off life responsibilities to putt about in a castle so that was really just as good. Onward, to the armor and medieval breeches!