[Look Yngvi will judge everyone for everything and nothing because he gets to because he said he can because he has a piece of paper (crumpled, somewhere inside an otherwise empty coinpurse inside a lockbox placed behind a wall with three loose bricks - not the three you're thinking of, and no, not those three either - guarded by a rat king accessible by going through a door in the Chantry you can only find last thing on a Tuesday then left, left again, up and down, down, down, deeper than you think you would ever go until you see the bones of the world and they see you) that says he can do what he wants.]
No one says what language you need to write the reports in, I've seen the whole if you cut out the Qunari bit and Tevinter.
[Is that a challenge? Could Yngvi do it? Perhaps. Perhaps not. But he could write it all in a Carta code and claim it's all he's ever known or so illegibly she'd need to hire a scribe and not a soul could say any wiser. (Well, three, but if his lady, Wren or Korrin sold him out to Beleth he'd be affronted, furious, and heartbroken, and not in that order.)]
First lesson: when you're in a city and you're not human or you don't look like a human, it's not about what you prefer. Didn't know we was a we if I'm honest, I'm going to Darktown 'cause that's where I heard things, meander through the underskirts of the city, dally about, see what there is, casual y'know? Nice and casual. Can't look bothered, can't look worried. Dunno who did it so who's to say who's watching, plenty of folks hate elves, plenty of folks just don't give a shit about elves, whole world of difference between them two things and you go tellin' anyone I said that the Carta'll have their cut.
[More likely they'll have their cut of Yngvi's sorry arse but he doesn't like this, this...this dangerously close to feelings thing that he can't do, can't get away with, gets caught in his throat unless he tries to turn it into a threat like the dog that's been kicked every time the master beckons but still thinks that this time, maybe this time when he calls, it'll be a soft hand with something good in it and not another lick of steel capped toes to the ribs.]
no subject
No one says what language you need to write the reports in, I've seen the whole if you cut out the Qunari bit and Tevinter.
[Is that a challenge? Could Yngvi do it? Perhaps. Perhaps not. But he could write it all in a Carta code and claim it's all he's ever known or so illegibly she'd need to hire a scribe and not a soul could say any wiser. (Well, three, but if his lady, Wren or Korrin sold him out to Beleth he'd be affronted, furious, and heartbroken, and not in that order.)]
First lesson: when you're in a city and you're not human or you don't look like a human, it's not about what you prefer. Didn't know we was a we if I'm honest, I'm going to Darktown 'cause that's where I heard things, meander through the underskirts of the city, dally about, see what there is, casual y'know? Nice and casual. Can't look bothered, can't look worried. Dunno who did it so who's to say who's watching, plenty of folks hate elves, plenty of folks just don't give a shit about elves, whole world of difference between them two things and you go tellin' anyone I said that the Carta'll have their cut.
[More likely they'll have their cut of Yngvi's sorry arse but he doesn't like this, this...this dangerously close to feelings thing that he can't do, can't get away with, gets caught in his throat unless he tries to turn it into a threat like the dog that's been kicked every time the master beckons but still thinks that this time, maybe this time when he calls, it'll be a soft hand with something good in it and not another lick of steel capped toes to the ribs.]