therookery | (no subject)

Current Location: Skyhold

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(no subject)

FORM: Sending crystal
SENDER: Korrin Ataash
RECIPIENT: Everyone
WHAT: Dammit, Anders.
WHEN: Slightly backdated, to after the big announcement. (Well, after she's destroyed some training dummies.)
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Knowing Korrin, language. That's probably it, though. And because I'm lazy, this can also be an action log.

[To say that Korrin's upset at the revelation is a vast understatement, and though her tone is even over the sending crystal, it's a forced calm. Anyone who knows her is likely well-aware of the depths of her fury, though there's been enough ranting over the crystal lately. So instead:]

Anyone else having the powerful urge to drink and vent, you're welcome to join me at the tavern. I'm buying. And just to be clear, I'm not challenging a damn thing. I just want a fucking drink, that's all.

[No ranting over the sending crystal, but she is claiming the venting corner, Merrick. Be prepared.]

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[There had been a numbness first. The shock of surprise and incredibility, and a fast, desperate hope that there would be more. Something, anything. But the notice on the board had remained as it was, and the shouting had began on the crystals and liquor seemed like a wonderful idea.

The only idea.]

I'm not sure there's a drink invented strong enough for all this.

[The joke was painfully humorless.]

[There's a soft huff that in a better mood would have been laughter.]

Maraas-lok might do it. I have some to spare, actually. It's not something you'd drink casually, but if you want to get hammered, it'll do the trick.

I've only one question.

Does it come in bowl-fuls? It feels like a bowl sort of night.

It does, doesn't it? I'm sure we can swing that. Cabot's been bribed to keep it behind the counter for me, so he'd better deliver.

Who's the strength left for glasses and that pouring and lifting nonsense. Putting my face right in it and hoping drown sounds like a perfect response.

[Better than his first impulse. And his second.]

Bonus, perhaps my mother will sense my shameful behavior from all the way in Ostwick and finally die of that embarrassment she's so fond of blaming me for.

If she was here, she'd see that there are far worse things to get worked up about. Case in point, this. But I wouldn't wish that upon you, of course.

Let's get you started.

On my way.

[And indeed, shortly after, Maxwell appears in the tavern, tucking his crystal back under his collar as he scanned for the Qunari woman. They hadn't spent a great deal of time together since they're mission in the Emprise, but she was a hard one to forget.

He approached with a sigh and another wry joke, dropping to a chair on the other side of her table.]

I think this sort of generosity puts you in line for Divine. Or at least it should.

[There's a brief twitch of her lips, though Korrin doesn't laugh as she usually might. Her mood is too sour for that, and she can't see it improving. A couple of tankards are before her and she slides one of them forward.]

So you can bribe your way into that with alcohol now? Sounds like my kind of Chantry. I'll pass on those enormous hats, though. You understand.

[Settling back, she sighs.]

I might need a reminder not to go charging into the Warden camp. Because the more I have, the more it'll seem like a good idea.

You can with coin and favors, so why not?

[He cupped his hand around the offered drink and dragged the tankard closer, scrapping it over the wood. Leaning on one elbow, he hovered over it, letting himself pre-pickle in the wafting aroma.]

The Wardens are here as allies of the Inquisition, and together we are all fighting for a better, greener tomorrow. Without them what hope do we have of stopping a darkspawn magister--

[He trailed off with a flat look at Korrin.]

Is it convincing yet?

[Korrin takes a swig of her own, knowing its strength but maraas-lok isn't a sipping drink. You only have it if you mean business, and tonight she doesn't care about pacing herself. That little speech gets a soft snort from Korrin.]

No, but it's no worse than what I've heard or said to myself. I get that darkspawn killing is a nasty business, as much as I can without joining them. You can't be too picky as to recruits, but bringing a fucking abomination back into the fold is beyond insane. I've seen what happens when one of those is set off, and it's not pretty. Are they just going to ignore what he could do?

[He watched her with mild curiosity. He knew nothing about the drink in question and wasn't certain if there was a method to it, or if like Gavin's swamp booze you were just supposed to go for it.

Looked like the latter by the way Korrin went to it.]

You know what's even worse for me? It's not even the abomination part that bothers me so much. I mean, that's horrifying in and of itself, but... If he were so intent on making amends and making up for what he did by serving, than why did he hide? Why wasn't he upfront from the start?

Instead he slunk around, keeping secrets and lying.

[His fingers tightened on the tankard.]

Not a promising start.

[Korrin nods grimly along to all that, not having focused on that angle but now that Maxwell mentions it, her scowl grows.]

Exactly. It's not as though the Wardens couldn't have claimed him earlier. Now that there are so many, he chooses to come out? What a coward.

I fought alongside that piece of shit when we rescued Zevran from the Crows, trusted him with my life. With my friends' lives, too. Now I wish that flesh golem had killed him and saved us this current bullshit.

[Cowardice. Yes. The perfect word for it.

Maxwell nodded, brow furrowing.]

And he already left the Wardens once. Can they really guarantee he'll serve out a sentence?

[With a grimace and a shake of his head, he lifted the tankard and took a fast, hard drink. He came up coughing, catching at his chest with his free hand.]

...W-hat did you say this was?

Edited 2016-03-15 11:26 (UTC)

[Despite her mood, Korrin's lips twitch in amusement at Maxwell's reaction to the drink.]

Maraas-lok. Qunari drinks aren't meant to be savored; they're more or less tests in endurance. I'm pretty sure most of them were made on a dare. If it's any comfort, that's more or less the typical reaction.

[She takes a swig, well-practiced in how to handle it by now though her throat is still burning afterward. But it gives her something to focus on other than her rage.]

You bring up a damn good point. Exactly what's going to be different about this time? Plus, his actions were committed when he had left the Wardens. Should it really be up to them now?

I can see that.

[A soft murmur as he looked down into his tankard with a raised eyebrow. Then, with shake of his head, he looked back up.]

Ideally, I think he should be in Kirkwall, paying back the people he harmed first. Helping them rebuild and heal.

[A beat.]

I know the Champion was named Vicount, before her disappearance and judged him, but not sure how fair that is. Could have truly been impartial?

[Korrin shrugs, frustrated.]

How could it have been? They were friends for years, right? That has to be the only reason he's still alive; anyone else would have executed him then and there. What I don't get is why accept it when the person that allowed her to make that judgment call is Meredith. You know, the Templar woman drive insane by red lyrium. She was fucking crazy, so why are giving her deferral a weight it doesn't deserve?

[He took another drink, managing the second marginally better than the first.

Marginally.

He still came up from with a glower, but it was at least partially for the thought and not just the ale.]

I don't understand why he attacked the chantry? Yes, it's the Chantry and it is - a whole mess in it's own right, but they weren't the one's culling mages in the street. Meredith was.

But he didn't try to face her directly. He attacked the place of worship, where many more innocents were sure to be.

[She takes a swig while listening, because ranting away is thirsty work. At least the maraas-lok is steadily wearing away at her ability to act out on that temper. If she keeps going, the most that's likely to happen is a fierce hangover rather than a dungeon cell.]

Not just inside the Chantry, either, but so many people were killed in the fallout, weren't they? Nothing can take that stain away, whatever the Wardens say about it. And he's a fool if he thinks otherwise.

[Leaning back, she heaves a sigh.]

I know Templars are assholes more often than not, especially at that time and place. Kirkwall was a shithole when it came to that. If he'd stuck to attacking them, keeping civilians out of it, I could have respected that. Everyone deserves a chance to fight against abuse, and that coming annulment. His methods were disgusting, but the intent...the intent I understand. And that's why I hate him even more.

[Because as important as mage freedom is to her, there's no way Korrin can defend that. He's put her in the position of agreeing with those she typically strives against, and that's not something she can forgive.]

[There was a long stretch of silence, that final thought hanging. Maxwell's face softened, saddened.]

Yeah. I can see it too. If it had just been her, the ones like her.... I don't think we'd be here, killing ourselves with this - poison that's trying to pass itself off as a drink.

[That gets a weak chuckle out of Korrin, who sets hers down.]

We can get you something else, you know. Maraas-lok is an acquired taste at best, and it's not for everyone. Maker knows I never really want it unless I'm in a mood like this. Then it's still terrible but that doesn't seem to matter."

A terrible time calls for a terrible drink.

[Another swallow and he shook his head, heat turning his voice to a rumble.]

Besides, I'm sure what it matters now. I'm don't think I'll ever taste anything ever again.

[She smirks and shrugs at that.]

You know, I bet that was the point when they made it. If you're traveling around with stale travel rations or whatever, then you might as well kill your sense of taste anyway.

[He chuckled.]

Even if I did, thank you, Korrin. I appreciate the commiseration.

As do I. The silence over the sending crystals was too much. I was beginning to wonder if I'd gone mad and everyone else was fine with this.

[Another laugh, but this one was low and breathy. Wry and tired.]

Fine is about the farthest word I'd use just about now. There needs to be cluster in it somewhere.