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He's caught her off-guard, sidling up as the crowd exiting the ferry begins to disperse. That her surprise is obvious is a decent clue she's out of sorts, an uncharacteristic beat required to rearrange her face into a friendly smile and stop hunching into the turned-up collar of her coat with her gaze fixed firmly on the fog-damp cobbles. She sidesteps his question about where she was headed, but is easily persuaded to join him instead.
Which sees them settling in to a high-backed booth at an advantageous angle toward the back of the mid-range sort of establishment that is neither showily expensive enough for the Inquisition's Hightown contingent nor grimy enough for those still intent on imagining themselves characters in a Tethras novel. The crowd is lively without being rowdy, the games of chance in progress seem good-natured, and as Bastien returns with a bottle of wine and two glasses Yseult lifts her chin back toward the bar, and a young woman with curly dark hair who is just turning away with an expression of disappointment as she sees his destination. "You have an admirer."
Which sees them settling in to a high-backed booth at an advantageous angle toward the back of the mid-range sort of establishment that is neither showily expensive enough for the Inquisition's Hightown contingent nor grimy enough for those still intent on imagining themselves characters in a Tethras novel. The crowd is lively without being rowdy, the games of chance in progress seem good-natured, and as Bastien returns with a bottle of wine and two glasses Yseult lifts her chin back toward the bar, and a young woman with curly dark hair who is just turning away with an expression of disappointment as she sees his destination. "You have an admirer."
[ When Bastien wakes, he’ll find that he’s received a terribly mysterious invitation to meet with a Hightown bookseller.
She’s come into possession of a number of rare maps that claim to reference graves and other monuments to figures from history and folklore, and she’d like to ask Bastien’s assistance in determining whether these could be of any value to the Inquisition. Unknown to him, a stranger (terrible, mysterious) may already be waiting.
The invitation is beautifully calligraphed, and includes a white rose for Bastien to wear, to signal that he should be allowed into the back rooms. Bastien doesn't actually have to accept the invitation. Not intentionally. Should he ignore or otherwise attempt to circumvent its summons, a chain of coincidences (terrible, mysterious, you get it by now) and well-timed accidents will conspire to see him there.
There are some maps, though they're nearly all the work of fantasy, and include multiple statues to dogs supposedly 'anointed' by the Chantry. There's also a bottle of wine, the sort of imported fruit that runs from expensive to baffling in winter, and a conspicuous deal of privacy given two strangers left with the valuable stock. (Don't worry, they'll be frisked on the way out by a very surly dwarf.)
OOC Note: Ilias is played by Jenni. Feel free to play out a thread, handwave things, or ignore it entirely, but check with each other first! ❤ ]
She’s come into possession of a number of rare maps that claim to reference graves and other monuments to figures from history and folklore, and she’d like to ask Bastien’s assistance in determining whether these could be of any value to the Inquisition. Unknown to him, a stranger (terrible, mysterious) may already be waiting.
The invitation is beautifully calligraphed, and includes a white rose for Bastien to wear, to signal that he should be allowed into the back rooms. Bastien doesn't actually have to accept the invitation. Not intentionally. Should he ignore or otherwise attempt to circumvent its summons, a chain of coincidences (terrible, mysterious, you get it by now) and well-timed accidents will conspire to see him there.
There are some maps, though they're nearly all the work of fantasy, and include multiple statues to dogs supposedly 'anointed' by the Chantry. There's also a bottle of wine, the sort of imported fruit that runs from expensive to baffling in winter, and a conspicuous deal of privacy given two strangers left with the valuable stock. (Don't worry, they'll be frisked on the way out by a very surly dwarf.)
OOC Note: Ilias is played by Jenni. Feel free to play out a thread, handwave things, or ignore it entirely, but check with each other first! ❤ ]
Edited 2019-02-26 00:41 (UTC)
You understand what is going on in Nevarra.
[Please confirm.]
[Please confirm.]
[ Ilias is distracted. It's not his usual way-- they have not had so many lessons yet as to establish a norm, but he tends to be considerate of other people's time, and of Bastien's especially. (The intricacies of Orlesian court decorum are not his finest subject; an exchange of Nevarran pronunciation can only cover so many sins.) So he isn't late, nor inattentive precisely, but his polite smile comes with stress lines today, his pauses stretch a touch too long, and when things begin to wind down into a more conversational direction, he twists, ]
Do they not find it exhausting? To be forever circling the point. To never simply say what is in one's heart.
Do they not find it exhausting? To be forever circling the point. To never simply say what is in one's heart.
It's astonishing how things grow here. The fungus, the moss, and everything else on one's face. I don't know that I anticipated ink —
[ Athessa's voice is soft, as is the accompanying sound of pen and parchment in the background, the audible flicker of flame on a low wick, an owl outside. It's late. ]
Does absence make the heart grow fonder? Or forgetful?
[ There. The silliest way she can imagine to pose that question, so that anyone who might have overheard will think she's penning a letter to a lover or writing in a diary. ]
Does absence make the heart grow fonder? Or forgetful?
[ There. The silliest way she can imagine to pose that question, so that anyone who might have overheard will think she's penning a letter to a lover or writing in a diary. ]
Edited 2020-07-24 01:29 (UTC)
[ This knock is more decisive than the one that heralded Alexandrie the last time she happened by. She matches it, buttoned as she is into a dress far simpler and sturdier than her regular flouncy affairs, hair in a simple pinned up braid.
The smile is buttoned a little sturdier as well. ]
Monsieur l'imprimerie. I thought it only fair that this time I should leave the country.
The smile is buttoned a little sturdier as well. ]
Monsieur l'imprimerie. I thought it only fair that this time I should leave the country.
[ Apropos of nothing what so ever.... ]
Hey. You should tell Byerly he's a nice person.
Hey. You should tell Byerly he's a nice person.
[ They're in the prayer garden, either finishing up their respective lunches or finishing up some tedious busywork that is made less onerous by the change in scenery. ]
I have a hypothetical question.
[ She tips her head back to rest against the seat of the bench, because being who she is she never sits on the benches. She sits on the ground in front of them. But anyway she tips her head back and looks at Bastien, then at the sky. ]
And I mean an actual hypothetical, not the I've already done the thing and I'm unsubtly asking if it was a bad idea kind.
I have a hypothetical question.
[ She tips her head back to rest against the seat of the bench, because being who she is she never sits on the benches. She sits on the ground in front of them. But anyway she tips her head back and looks at Bastien, then at the sky. ]
And I mean an actual hypothetical, not the I've already done the thing and I'm unsubtly asking if it was a bad idea kind.
[Appearing in his post box (if his was fortunate enough to escape being destroyed by the abomination), or with other mail destined for him, or simply slipped under the door of whatever room he might be call his own, is a cream colored envelope with a simple pale pink seal. The paper inside is rather fine, and the handwriting exceptional. It reads—]
Monsieur,
I am writing to extend my unalloyed best wishes for the fall season to you and yours, and to cordially issue an invitation to join myself and a few other select members of Riftwatch for an evening of dinner, dancing, and entertainment at the close of Kingsway.
This event has been arranged as a means to raise funds for the benefit of Riftwatch. Though a member of the Research Division and acting Assistant to the Seneschal, I have organized this benefit purely independently in the hopes of soliciting the good will of individuals who may, for whatever reason, typically not feel disposed to offer contributions to the organization. Nonetheless, I would be most grateful for your participation and engagement in this endeavor; indeed, your presence is vital to the evening's success.
If you are bold enough to accept this invitation, you will be rewarded handsomely with an excellent meal and very fine company shared in the setting of one of Kirkwall's finest estates, and will be required to perform no work more taxing than pleasant conversation (to whatever degree you find most appealing).
Please respond at your earliest convenience. Festivities will begin promptly at sundown on the selected date. All guests are encouraged to dress to their best advantage.
With Thanks,
Miss Wysteria A. Poppell
Research Division
Assistant to the Seneschal
Project Felandaris
P.S. Have you recovered your cello since Lady Barra's party? I inquire purely out of good-natured curiosity.
My dear Bastien—
I did not quite make it to the boat as planned. Or, I have now, but before I made it to the harbour I found myself running back to the Gallows with impulsive abandon to address something that was needling at me in the letter I had left him.
And now I have found myself leaving under different circumstances.
We have decided to... 'give it a try'— his words— although I think neither he nor I know what precisely that will mean.
I am writing to you of this because I thought perhaps you might find it preferable to be surprised by me than by him. I know there are times I cannot bear surprises well, although I think you are better at it than I.
And perhaps you will raise an eyebrow at those last lines and write 'Alexandrie what do you mean by any of that, I am only happy for you both', but if it is also something else... let us simply say that I have written because some kinds of secrets have taken enough from me, and I do not desire that our amiable friendship suffer for my silence. Of course, it may now suffer for my lack of it, but I find these days my heart is made more calm in that sufferance than the other.
(And if he is made cross that I have told you, then I shall apologize with great profusion and we all shall have learned something.)
—A
I did not quite make it to the boat as planned. Or, I have now, but before I made it to the harbour I found myself running back to the Gallows with impulsive abandon to address something that was needling at me in the letter I had left him.
And now I have found myself leaving under different circumstances.
We have decided to... 'give it a try'— his words— although I think neither he nor I know what precisely that will mean.
I am writing to you of this because I thought perhaps you might find it preferable to be surprised by me than by him. I know there are times I cannot bear surprises well, although I think you are better at it than I.
And perhaps you will raise an eyebrow at those last lines and write 'Alexandrie what do you mean by any of that, I am only happy for you both', but if it is also something else... let us simply say that I have written because some kinds of secrets have taken enough from me, and I do not desire that our amiable friendship suffer for my silence. Of course, it may now suffer for my lack of it, but I find these days my heart is made more calm in that sufferance than the other.
(And if he is made cross that I have told you, then I shall apologize with great profusion and we all shall have learned something.)
—A
[ A couple of days after her return, without preamble: ]
Where are you? [ Irrelevant. ] For a miracle it is sunny and only a little chill and if you do not come to this cafe and sit outside and eat pastries with me, it is an affront to the Maker.
Where are you? [ Irrelevant. ] For a miracle it is sunny and only a little chill and if you do not come to this cafe and sit outside and eat pastries with me, it is an affront to the Maker.
Bastien,
[spoken formally, and in Orlesian,]
there's someone I'd like you to meet.
[spoken formally, and in Orlesian,]
there's someone I'd like you to meet.
Edited 2020-11-12 08:11 (UTC)
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