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[degenere]

FORM: sending crystal
SENDER: Val de Foncé (and with him, as always, is Jehan Mercier)
RECIPIENT: e v e r y o n e
WHAT: the scholars of Orlais have something to say.
WHEN: now, right now
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: aren't they charming.


Inquisition, we are confused.

[Melodious, Orlesian, flirtatious (somehow even in this most simple of sentences): these are three words one might use to describe the sound of Val's voice. It makes confused sound kind of fun, if a bit puzzling.]

My friend and I have come all this way to be an asset to you. And now we have arrived here, to your Skyhold, and we find so much to be in want. How have you all managed so far, with these conditions? I am a man used to the roughness of a camp, a life of travel. I love this life. You'll find no one loves it more than me. But a camp, that is one thing, and this? It is meant to be a city, of a sort. Yet there is no apartment for us. There is barely a work space, in your library--we have been, my friend and I. We have seen the conditions. There is barely a book there.

I am sorry for you, Inquisition.

[So sincere. A pause, in which he has pressed a hand to his chest, in a deep show of pity. And then, briskly, cheerfully:]

But we will not leave you there, in sorrow. The good news. You now have, among your numbers, me. An introduction: Valentine de Foncé, a master architect, among many other masteries, too numerous to name. If you ask sweetly, I'll tell you them all. If you ask very sweetly, I'll give demonstration. And for the Inquisition, I will offer my services, and my knowledge--and so, too, does my friend. If only so we can get a decent space in which we can do our work. And believe me: you want this. We have arrived to be your greatest blessing.

Now, tell me. With business sorted: what does anyone do for fun around here?

Comments

[degenere]

The oldest love, and the closest. We are very old friends, you see, Freddie, Jeannot, and me. But they lack my charisme, as we say, my charm and my glamour. My ability to encourage friendliness, and the drinks.

But why do I tell you all of this?

[fledglingenchanter]

I haven't stopped talking to you perhaps? Or maybe I have a friendly voice? You'd have to tell me.

[degenere]

More what I meant was, why am I telling you when I could just show you.

But you do have a lovely friendly voice at that.

[fledglingenchanter]

[And there she goes getting flustered again.]

Maker's Breath! You're persistent. I will still be around Skyhold tomorrow.

[degenere]

[score again.]

Does persistence bother you? It doesn't need to. You will be around Skyhold tomorrow, and so will I. That does the first step of solving it nicely.

For the second step--the tavern?

[fledglingenchanter]

[Why is she even thinking about agreeing to this?]

Persistence is often a requirement to get anything done. And yours is almost tranquil like in its single-mindedness. There is a chance you will find me in the tavern tomorrow, provided the entertainment is good.

[degenere]

[don't ask why just say yes]

The very best of entertainments, I assure you. To which you'll have a front row seat.

Until tomorrow, then, dear Sadira. I look forward to it.

[fledglingenchanter]

[Maker help her, she was almost looking forwards to this.]

Until then Val.

[She is going to assume that is his nickname. If not, it is now.]

hi :] do you want to handwave or action tag or???

[degenere]

o/ hello! I am happy doing whatever honestly. Threading has been fun, but no pressure to continue.

[fledglingenchanter]

no i'm so down let's do it. also no promises that i won't tag you in the snowfight too srry.

[degenere]

[Tomorrow, in the tavern:

Val is not the type to arrive early and wait. And even if he was that type, they did not set a time, so he can arrive neither early nor late.

In all honesty, this suits him well. It means that he arrives midafternoon, well-rested despite his complaints of insufficient accommodations. They do not know one another on sight, but he is, as ever, confident. In this case, he is confident that she will recognize him, possibly by the way that he strolls into the tavern as if he owns it. If she is not there to recognize, she may when she arrives, this time by the way that he claims a table near enough to the fire to take in its warmth, but not so much to grow overheated. And the way that he sits, too--casually, slung into the chair like a lazy king in a comfortable throne.

It never occurs to him that she might stand him up. Why would she? And, further proof: he has never been stood up in his life. Sometimes to his peril. There's a story about that.]

More than welcome to!

[fledglingenchanter]

[Sadira spent the better part of her morning being nervous as she did her best to prepare herself for what was bound to be an unusual event. Images of Shipwrecks came to mind as she made her way to the Herald's Rest. Dressed in her best robes, there was no mistaking her for anything other than a mage (or perhaps a mage enthusiast), though she left her staff behind. In the off chance that he would arrive fashionably late, she had in hand a book she was reading. Twice now she had almost changed her mind. It would have been easy to keep going to the Library or the garden. But no, she'd agreed to this, and so she was committed. At the very least it would be interesting to meet one of the people who had taken Skyhold by storm the previous day.

As she entered the Tavern, there was a momentary pause while she let her eyes adjust before scanning the room. Instinct told her to look for the most cocksure person in the place. It was a bit of a guessing game as she narrowed down possible candidates based on their dress and general demeanour. Finally, she spotted someone she could only assume was him at a table near the fire, looking exactly like she suspected he would. And if it was not him, well then, again, this was going to be interesting.]

Messere de Foncé I presume?

:]b

[degenere]

[Val looks around mildly enough at the sound of his name, with a vague but no less handsome and pleasant smile. He is, after all, expecting her. He is not expecting a mage, but, quelle surprise: here is a mage. Surely she must be, with robes as she wears.

All this is to say that Val's genial and pleasant smile is etched, very swiftly, with a keener interest.]

Dear Sadira, you presume correctly. But of course you do. I could tell from speaking with you how very clever you are, and here is my proof.

As we are friends, I will tell you. I think my feelings are a little hurt.

[fledglingenchanter]

[One dark eyebrow rose up as she sat down across from him, setting her book off to one side with care, though her attention was focused on him.]

Your feelings are hurt? [Without the faceless anonymity of the sending crystals, it was too easy to read her facial expressions as surprise blended into bafflement.] Whatever have I done to hurt them?

[degenere]

[The give-and-take of conversation flags just slightly with that look on her face. It is an opening, a chance, one that Val is quick to take. He leans in, without a hint of hurt or mournfulness.]

You didn't tell me. [He arches both eyebrows at her.] Charming, yes. I guessed at that. Clever, yes. But lovely? And a mage? These are details that you kept from me.

[fledglingenchanter]

[Relief floods through her washing away the confusion as a small smile twitches up the corners of her mouth as a touch of color appears on her cheeks.]

I could say you never asked, but in my defense are you a mage rarely comes up in polite conversation. Besides, a lady needs to keep some secrets and surprises to herself.

[degenere]

I do like secrets. And surprises.

[He studies her face a moment, thoughtfully--and then he leans back, with a smile. Almost a smirk, but not quite.]

Very well: you've convinced me. I will consider myself surprised, instead of hurt, and we will be greater friends than we are already. Does Skyhold boast many mages of such beauty, or are you as rare as I think you must be?

[fledglingenchanter]

[ She had a feeling he would. What little she knew of Orlesians, hinted that was all part of their Game. The Circle's books on the subject had been unfortunately sparse.]

[The compliment and his attractive smile adds another shade to her face, turning her cheeks rosy. Her first instinct was to hide. Without thinking, her hand rose up as if to cover her face before she recovered her wit and instead brought it to her mess of curls, tangling the fingers into it.]

You'd have to tell me. I don't usually make a habit of judging my fellow mages upon their looks.

[degenere]

No? I suppose that suggests that you are the prettiest of the mages. You have not looked, because you have already seen the ultimate, the upper echelon. Why would you look?

[He puts his chin in his hand, considering.]

Of course, it would only be fair to test this. Shall we?

[fledglingenchanter]

[And there it was, a twinge of uncertainty and possibly regret. She stilled the fingers in her hair looking at Val carefully.]

What is it that you have in mind?

[degenere]

[Impeccably, he keeps up his smile, without a hint of weakness to it.]

You're not worried, are you?

[fledglingenchanter]

[One brow twitches down as she pulls her hand from her hair to rest them on the table, trying her best not to give any additional nervousness away.]

Cautious is a better word. You have a particular knack it seems with aggrieving others in Skyhold. I'd prefer not to do the same with my fellow compatriots.

[degenere]

Yet I seem to have charmed you, enough to at least win the chance to meet you. Doesn't that imply at my abilities beyond aggravation? Or maybe it's you that charmed me, and encouraged behavior enough in me for this happy meeting. You are the mage of the two of us. If any can be charming, I think it must be you.

[And before the topic can swing back around again, to whatever he intends, Val asks:] Do you want a drink?

[--Without breaking the stride of conversation at all, as if this thought is connected most naturally to all the thoughts previous.]

[fledglingenchanter]

[Was it unusually warm in the tavern? Perhaps she was too close to the fire? It had been much easier talking and even pitting wits against him when she didn't know what he looked like.]

A drink would be nice, yes. [Any opportunity to settle her nerves.] I'm not the only one with charm or else I wouldn't be here, but you already know that. I doubt I need to extoll your virtues. Besides, I don't think I have quite the same skill for it.

[degenere]

[Proof to her point, Val's smile remains very charming. Sorry; not sorry.]

You should try. How will you become skilled unless you practice? I willingly submit myself to your study at becoming charming. You can compliment me, extoll me, praise me... [He stands up, and grabs for his mug.] ...And we will start after I have fetched you a drink. Wine, or ale? To warn you, the wine here is terrible.

[To Orlesian tastes, anyways, but he doesn't even give it the benefit of the doubt. Roundly and fully terrible for no reason other than it is.]