Netflix’s The Punisher Sentence Starters (pt 1) @madehimselfreal

   Slowly fading sunlight cast an array of various pigments of cadmium as the afternoon glow drifted toward the early signs of the evening – Morrigan having coveted herself a spot on one of Skyhold’s courtyard benches after a drawn out tour of the fortress by the Inquisition ambassador upon her arrival, though the allure of the Eluvian was far too great to stay in a room out of reach as she had been offered one within. Yet another force seemed to pull at the back of her mind, silent and subtly familiar it came creeping at first when she had journeyed through the front gates and then the sensation pooled comfortably across her mind like a blanket when she ventured further within the confines of Skyhold’s walls. An entity was at work she had known, having encountered similar stirs to her being amongst her teachings with Flemeth and of her own travels. Queer as it was, this feeling held no malice or temptation yet she remained suspicious all the same. Said spirit materialized without a sound, appearing as a young boy dressed to something akin to what a scarecrow might wear and mumbling out a sentence that made little sense.

Cole was quiet for a moment his inner thoughts were not reflected on his face. Though he nodded his head once. Almost unnoticed and would have been by the untrained eye. “I think so. I can help better as a spirit.” he said his fingers going to the amulet that had been acquired but the Inquisitor.  Long delicate digits more gifted at opening locks, than examining jewelry brushing the magic. It hummed and sang of freedom.

The spirit paused and glanced sidelong at Solas, he could tell when something was bothering him. Could feel it inside. Twisting, turning, taunting, wanting released but not releasing. “Are you asking a question that mirrors your own ?” he inquired quietly. Pausing to sit tipping his hat back to look at Solas. He always looked up to the ancient elf, and he really wanted to help if he could. It was what he was Compassion.

He did not find himself nervous around Solas, he was just curious, sadness often pooled around the elf, but it also rolled from him like mist from an early rain. “I know you said I can not help..” he began…”but…maybe I can…if you let me ?”

Moments in quiet solitude with Cole weren’t as common as Solas might have liked, and often lead to the swallowing of questions that might reveal more of he himself than he’d care for. ( Oh, he held such affection for his fellow spirit -- that should’ve never been in doubt, but the wariness of his companions weighed heavily upon each spoken syllable. ) Seating himself a short distance away, legs crossed and posture the ever rare relaxed, eyed watched in attentive silence for the often non-verbal cues of his companion. The small bit of relief that washed over nerves tense since the quandary was first raised was little more than a gift given little thought for the time being; it could be picked apart later.

Any answer he might’ve had slowed at the question posed at himself, however, as internal machinations chewed upon what was the best possible answer -- and more realistically, what felt truest to his turbulent, war-torn heart. “Sometimes. Ones path is never simple or painless.” Curiosity would’ve dragged him down the very same path he’d already trod each and every time, and his sense of responsibility would pull him the rest of the way to where he was. Nothing was ever destined, of that he was certain, nevertheless, who he intrinsically was left little to no room for any other way.

Reluctance to be and necessity not to be seen pulled hesitation up to the surface where few could see, but others could feel; here, there would be no betrayal, but whether or not Cole’s efforts would be wasted on him nagged at the back of his mind. His direction forward felt as though it was becoming more unclear with each passing month, and regardless of that all the same... Could his judgement be trusted through such greed over the tiniest slivers of what seemed to be happiness? He doubted it.

What an interesting way to put it. 

Her eyes linger for a moment on the statue before them. Perched there beside the lake, the glimmer, the reflection of the sunlight off the water hits the jaws of the great stone wolf just right, and makes the statue come to life, like it’s drooling with hunger. Or mange, maybe. 

Quite artful, that. 

     “Are you talking to me, or him?” she asks with a half-smile and a gesture towards the statue. 

        Her mind was a mess. It seemed as if it only got worse the longer time went on, like a noisy crowd in her head full of mumbled words over top of screeching and hissing.

        It was the silence that got her.

         The silence that made it all come back and allowed the noise in. The silence that caused her head to scream as her vision darkened around points she looked at but didn’t.

         So many things she saw but didn’t see as she fell back on apparitions of the past. Her father, camp with Alistair, music...

        Such odd music, but she knew it wasn’t music of the calling. It couldn’t have been. This was music she knew too well.

            It wasn’t until she felt something touch her hair that her eyes moved, turning to look at a tall, thin boy who looked as ghostly as one could. It wasn’t until he mentioned the flower that she looked, eyes rolling up to the flower he’d put in her hair.

            Had she started a conversation with him and lost herself?

            “It does,” She lightly reached up, touching it’s petals gently. There was a small flash of a rose handed to her before the petals fell apart, falling like blood to the ground. Her eyes dropped to the hallucination as it vanished, leaving nothing more than bald patches of grass at her feet.

           She was painfully aware of how short her life was to be now. 30 years was gratuitous. She would expire long before that; long before Alistair.

         “How about you?” She pulled herself out of the noise and looked at him. Her eyes dropped to the flowers he held and took the most colorful one she could see. “I feel like this one belongs here.” She reached up, tucking it into his hair, hidden by his hat. “Now you’re not alone hidden under that hat; as it should be.”

            Strange how this boy seemed to put her warring mind at ease.