Cassius Black (
satinet) wrote in
therookery2021-02-03 12:05 pm
crystal
FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Cassius Black
RECIPIENT: All Y'all
NOTES: Post-dream by a few days.
Good afternoon, one and all.
[What can be said of the speaker? Nevarran? Certainly. Tinged by the brisker patter of Orlais? Maybe. Well educated? Possessed of certain qualities of good looks and modest, charmingly self-effacing humor? Well, he wouldn't say it. One should be allowed to draw their own conclusions about these things.]
I'm Senior Enchanter Cassius Black, quite recently late of Skyhold and rather less recently late of the Perendale Circle. —If you're the type to care about such things, the common theory being that the majority of you don't. Not to worry, I won't hold it against you. [That sounds like a wry little joke, and it is one. In all senses. Haha okay moving on.] I believe I'm to be a member of your diplomatic division from this point forward.
Now, ordinarily I wouldn't make such a to do of introductions when we might reasonably meet over the course of our work together. But word on the ominous fortress island is that I've just missed something of a dust up, and to celebrate our new association I thought I might lend my services as an objective third party should anyone prefer gentler modes of dispute resolution and still have a thing or two to work out. For the duration of the afternoon, consider yourself welcome to stop into my quarters on the old templar tower's sixth floor. You'll know it by the open door and the sounds of cursing while I unpack whatever injustices have been inflicted on my things in transit.
As a related aside, I would be thankful should anyone have recommendations for a reliable blacksmith either among our company or in the city. I have my suspicions that I'll need a coat rack or something like it to make do in the space provided.

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ok dreamwidth
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[action!]
Possibly too soon after, actually, since she isn't met with any swearing before leaning casually against the door jamb. ]
I'm assuming by the lack of swearing that either you haven't gotten elbow-deep in the guts of unpacking, or you have ridiculously good luck.
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With all this in mind, the man himself is seated in the bottom of the (empty) open wardrobe as if it's a bench. An ankle is hooked over one knee, and on the crooked joint rests a mug of something warm enough to steam gently. A series of papers is spread out in the narrow space on the swept bare before him, and the whole of the room smells like cedar chips and the musky sweet tang of the incense stick which smokes on a plate in the high narrow window sill.
Cassius looks up. His eyes are very green.]
Mm, hard to say. The porcelain seems to have survived, but I haven't dared to crack open the Barbier just yet. [He nods to a narrow, waist high crate standing upright against the wall.] I'm staving off heartbreak for as long as possible.
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The what? [ Of course she doesn't wait long for an explanation, since seeing it should offer description enough.
(It doesn't.) ]
Doooo you collect fragile things or something?
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[The mug is set aside. Cassius dusts off his hands, much to the irritation of the cat who bristles at the noise. Relocation is hard on animals, even clever ones.]
The Barbier in question [mysterious, inside the hopeful safety of its crate] is one of the last landscapes ever painted by him. It's survived its fair share of moves before this one, but I will confess to feeling a fresh stab of secret mortification every time I've cause to pack it away.
[Without rising, Cassius leans forward to offer his hand. It's an invitation further into the mess of the room as much as it is a formal greeting.]
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Im.
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[Yes, he's very funny. Thank you for noticing.]
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Do my ears deceive me, or is that my old friend the Speaker Thevenet.
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Over lunch? Tomorrow.
[Fuck no to wrestling with Benevenuta in his first 24 hours of residence.]
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[—spoken easily in Nevarran, and now in Trade—]
This is your first time in Kirkwall, I take it?
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It is. I'm not sure whether to say fortunately or unfortunately.
[Veering back to Nevarran; his pace of speaking is a little more sedate in it, grammar all immaculate—]
I would ask what brings you so far from home, but I keep hearing we are at war.
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[As they move further from pleasantries, it may become apparent to a native that he isn't.]
But you are fortunate to be so unfortunate. It's a lovely, awful place.
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clicking is cool
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