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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]

[Oh.]

Maker's arse. How many of you are there?

[justice_is_blond]

...Healers? Grey Wardens? People with Fereldan accents who aren't Fereldan? Men? You're going to need to be far more specific.

[degenere]

Grey Wardens, actually. I have not met so many at once in--well, ever. What are you, if you are not Fereldan? I can't stand affected accents. They're very tiring.

[justice_is_blond]

It's not affected. I was taken from home at a young age, being a mage, and learned the common tongue from Fereldans. I'm Ander. Trust me, I'd like to not sound Fereldan. I don't like dogs.

[degenere]

[ok that's nice but]

A mage? Monsieur. Why did you not say so at once? Of course I will help a mage. Affected accent and smelling of dogs and all.

[justice_is_blond]

And I'll accept the help, despite how it's likely coated in glitter and smelling of altogether too much perfume.

Though I'm not clear on if you're offering to help stock the healing tents or provision the Wardens or get some more basic supplies for refugees.

[degenere]

Cologne, my mage friend. The perfume, it is for ladies, and for rubbing off when you spend too much time close to the ladies. And barely any decent of either here. But you are used to that, I am sure. The Anders, the Fereldans... they are not known for their sweet smells.

Why such interest in refugees?

[justice_is_blond]

I'm personally fond of baths in something called water. It certainly assists with smell, better than the Orlesian way of rolling in more cologne. Cheap or otherwise.

And maybe I'm simply very fond of refugees.

[Or perhaps it's a burden of guilt. One or the other.]

[degenere]

How nice. And do you give them-- what did you call them. Baths?

[justice_is_blond]

I know what you're asking and I'm not giving you a bath.

[He knows he's not being asked for one.]

I'll assist the injured or ill with them, and they have to have more than injuries to their pride.

[degenere]

[Yeah he wasn't asking but now...... ]

Well. Now I am disappointed, monsieur. It is sad, that even Skyhold is plagued with prejudices and beset by invisible standards.

How refugeed must a refugee be, before a bath is granted?

[justice_is_blond]

Injured or ill. I help my patients as they need; refugee status isn't really key to it.

And I bathe my lover as wanted.

[Because who doesn't want too much information? It's too tempting to resist.]

[degenere]

They are freer with such intimate details than I was lead to believe.

[--Which he says in a tone of some bemusement, with a hint of a man who is marveling at this development. And it's to himself. Or maybe to Jehan.

Anyways:]

Is the lover a refugee?

[justice_is_blond]

You could stretch his case to say he is, considering the current state of Grey Warden affairs, but I wouldn't.

And as far as the other, I'm a mage. I like reminding people that something they denied to my people is attainable now.

[Another wedge holding open the doors of freedom. The more mages get a taste of what it has to offer, the harder it will be to slam those doors shut again.]

[degenere]

So there are two instances in which you might grant baths. What of dogs? Would you bathe a dog, regardless of his living or romantic status? I will assume your answer is yes. There are few who can refuse dogs. Preferably not in the romantic sense, though there are strange and exotic customs the world over, and who am I to speak in judgement of such.

Perhaps even among mages. Is romance always forbidden?

[justice_is_blond]

Why would I bathe a dog? They'll just go roll in mud and shit and smell again in five minutes anyway. I can entirely refuse a dog.

[Except for Lady, but there are enough exceptions being spoken of here.]

And in the Circles, yes. Romance was forbidden.

[degenere]

But surely the same can be said of refugees. What good is doing anything if you are always thinking of the mud and shit to come?

A man who has been so discouraged from living--truly living!--should not be thinking so dismally of dogs or men or anyone at all. He should be excited for the opportunities to bathe whatever dogs might come his way.

And to think--I have always wanted to be a mage. If only I'd known of such strict rules, I would have been praising Andraste night and day for not giving me magic. Then again, perhaps it is Andraste that causes such confusions after all. Brothers of the Chantry are similarly encouraged toward celibacy.

Of course, they do not always obey. Mages of the Circle do not take these risks and delights in the forbidden pleasures? I have always found that the more forbidden something is, the more delightful it is. A very happy relationship between the two.

[this is like some high-caliber philosophy.]

[justice_is_blond]

You... what?

[-50 Anders Greatly Disapproves.]

Oh, yes. I'm certain that having those you care deeply for ripped from you makes romance far more delightful for the short time it lasts. The wind on your face makes the punishments you get for seeking it happy. Very happy.

[degenere]

[Wow, touchy.]

Life without risk is no life at all, my friend. Regardless of fate or punishments or disappointments. To gain much you must risk much. All the usual cliches. I have always lived by this code-- [mostly always, long enough to say always very coolly and casually, anyways] --and it has always rewarded me, in the end.

You know, I am not surprised that there are such strong feelings on this. But I mean no disrespect. Of course I am a great admirer of mages.

[justice_is_blond]

[Much touch, such anger, wow. His voice is tight as they've hit upon a very sore spot - Karl.]

And others it has cost absolutely everything. It's not a joke, or a grand adventure. I have risked greatly, repeatedly, and nearly every time I have lost. It does not stop me. But there is nothing happy about what the Circles and Chantry have done to mages.

[degenere]

But you're here.

[justice_is_blond]

And some people very important to me are not and never will be.

[degenere]

Well, of course. Such is life. If the dead were not dead, we would all be more crowded, and I don't know about you, but I can't spare the elbow room. I have scarce enough as it is.

Thinking of things in this way is terribly depressing, my friend. I think you need cheering up.

[justice_is_blond]

You can't stop thinking of the dead. If they're forgotten, they're gone. Completely gone and lost for good. Keeping in mind their hopes, what they dreamed of, isn't... All right, yes, it is depressing, but it's grounding. Important.

[degenere]

Distressing. Painful. Bleak. Cheerless. Comment déprimant, there you go again--no, I maintain, you need cheering up, if the sadness of the dead is all that you think of. Of course it is sad for us. For them, it hardly matters. Or do you think they are spending whatever comes next moping about thinking sadly of you? If I were them, I would be celebrating. Cheerfully. All the time. They haven't a care in the world. Now, when I think of the dead, I like to think of the good of them. For instance, I knew a girl. She is dead now, of course, or else we would not be talking of her. But while she was alive, she had the most fantastic breasts. When I think about this girl, I think about her breasts, and I tell you, it is impossible to be sad with that thought in my head.

Honestly. The Anderfels must be a very sad and terrible place. Does everyone think this way?