thereneverwas | IC Inbox

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[For correspondence, private scenes, and anthrax.]

[ Bastien hums. In this metaphor, of course, the sheep can set fire to fields and summon lightning, and perhaps they will be possessed in their sleep and ravage an entire village. If Barrow had built up less goodwill, over these—years, shit, it's been years now—Bastien might press on that distinction more gently. Try to tangle him up in it. Instead, he's direct: ]

I suppose a lot of them think they are protecting other people from the sheep, too, in this case. Baa.

[ With some unsheeply bared teeth, to make the baa vicious. ]

Did you always think of it that way? That you were jailing them?

Usually just when I actually was, [Barrow replies with a glint of bone-dry humor in his eyes, his resulting smirk an ironic one.]

Ask any Templar who operated in a Circle what their job was, not one of 'em will tell you it was all Wicked Grace and shooting the shit all the time. Anyone who does is lying. We all had Harrowings in our rotation, we locked up the troublemakers, we secured the soon-to-be-Tranquil for their branding. It's not something a person likes to do, unless they're the wrong kind of person for the job. And there's a lot of those.

[He sips from his ale, his brow set darkly.]

Maybe it's necessary work, who the fuck am I to say. I suppose pulling in kids from the region under the guise of joining Andraste's own army, while not entirely the truth, will filter out most of the sadists. Or they'll all go to Kinloch.

[He makes a lazy shooing motion, directing the sadists to Kinloch, no doubt.]

...to be fair, the shit that went down over there, maybe the Rite of Annulment was a good decision. [He sighs.] Fuck it, I'm rambling.