most of my sweet memories were buried in the sand

[asunders]

Who| cole + OPEN
What| making friends with stray cats + figuring out how food tastes
Where| a random alleyway in the capitol, the tribute center restaurant
When| after the latest arena
Warnings/Notes| none yet



CAPITOL ALLEYWAY.

Everyone can see him. It doesn't matter what he does, because he can feel the weight of their eyes on him. Everyone can see him, and he can't slip away like he used to. Once, the weight of their eyes would have made him panic. But he's a little more used to being seen by now. Varric has been helping him. Instead, he tugs his hat back down over his eyes to obscure his face and makes his way around a city that seems too clean after being in Thedas for so long.

The people here are untouchable. Their thoughts are shrouded from him. He's left with the noise his own mind makes inside of his head, which is different and a little strange. He probably makes a strange sight, crouched at the end of a small alleyway with a loaf of bread in his hands. Murmuring quietly to the stray cats congregated there.

I'm not going to hurt you. You must be hungry.

It's harder to help, without those thoughts at his fingertips. But this is one small way that he can. The cats of Skyhold used to bat their paws at him even when they couldn't see him. These ones approach tentatively, spurred on by his gentle coaxing an the bread in his hands.

He can help the hungry cats. He can help.

TRIBUTE CENTER

He's never had to eat before. Back in the Spire, before he knew what he was, Cole vaguely remembers the feeling of hunger that had appeared only because he'd thought it's what he might feel. He thought he was human, back then. Or -- something else. Something more real, and more substantial than he felt, slipping through the cracks and into the darkness. But he had never actually eaten anything, even back then. He wasn't even really sure that he could.

Now the feeling is back, that odd gnawing sensation. But he doesn't really know what to eat, so he goes to the restaurant at the bottom of the tribute center and orders something at random off the menu. Or, it's more like he closes his eyes and picks at random.

The avoxes make his heart ache. They can't speak, and he can't hear them the way he would have been able to, once. They scurry away from him like scared mice as soon as he tries to speak to them. Leaving him with assorted oddities. Pickles, peanut butter. An apple and fish. Cole bites into a pickle and immediately shudders at the taste.

No, no pickles. No, they're not for him.

Unless he dipped them in peanut butter?

Someone please stop him.

Comments

[atethecanary]

Julian’s a bit taken aback by the response he gets. Most people here, clearly not used to behaving in a civilized way, have responded to him in varying degrees of hostility and offensiveness. However much Julian thinks those types of responses are undeserved, a part of him is expecting the same from this guy. But no, the words on their own are refreshing; Julian does like being told he’s right. It’s the way Cole looks so sad that makes Julian shift uncomfortably, feeling a bit like he kicked a puppy. He tells himself it’s not his problem if the guy’s getting so worked up over this.

“Yes, you should. Fortunately, it’s not as if they’ll die from the bread. It’s a good thing your idea wasn’t to give them chocolate instead.” Most of the harshness is gone from Julian’s voice, and his tone is more matter of fact than anything else.

He crouches down to pet one of the cats, reaching to scratch its cheek behind its whiskers, but it shies away from him. Julian jerks his hand back, quickly folding his hands together as if nothing happened, but there’s still a brief look of hurt on his face before it molds into something carefully neutral. Cats hadn’t all been his best friends back home, but they had usually been a bit more curious about him, a bit more willing to like him. These cats don’t care about him at all. They haven't hissed at him, though, so they still make for more preferable company than many of the people he's met here.

“I’m being nice this time, but don’t think you'll be able to spend time with the cats whenever you want. If I’m here first it means they’re off limits.”

[asunders]

No chocolate. Okay. He'll remember that, he'll file it away in his mind for later. Because it's something that human beings do - they remember, and they try to learn even when it hurts. He's beginning to experience this for himself these days, and Cole mumbles the words to himself silently. No bread, no chocolate.

"...Are they your cats?" he asks, because he doesn't understand why else he wouldn't be allowed to see them. "I don't think cats should belong to anyone. They should be free."

[atethecanary]

“No, they’re not mine. You think I would just let my cats starve?” They all look hungry, but he points to one that looks especially thin for emphasis. “I don’t really care if cats are free or not, but if they look like this maybe they should belong to someone. At least that way they’d get food.”

“But I still get priority, even if they’re not mine,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, because back home he is used to his needs, however small, being the most important. “And I want to be able to see the cats uninterrupted."