You don't hate a person because someone told you to

[motherfucking_ghost]

WHO: Church aaand anyone who wants to show up!
WHAT: Rifter meeting reboot
WHEN: Noon-ish on the 24th-ish
WHERE: Upper room of the Herald's Rest
NOTES: After this notice went up. People who are not Rifters are welcome to show up--nothing stopping them from dropping in, and he isn't going to cause an incident (probably) by throwing anyone out.
Mingle! Share knowledge! Talk about your trials with your pain lasers!

He's not nervous. He's totally not nervous. This is just like calling a Blue Team meeting, except with a lot more people, and most of them (probably) aren't dumbasses. Araceli believes in him, for some reason, so, obviously, he's got this in the bag. His letter was super professional and everything.

Look, there's even some snacks! People can get drinks downstairs. What does he look like, a bartender?

Comments

[demonicbeauty]

"Introducing yourself as a rogue? That's risky business."

Still, Ariadne was smiling. He seemed like the friendly sort. And Ariadne felt that she could always do with more of those.

Anyway, he was hardly a threat. She estimated she could probably drop him in a matter of seconds. If needed, of course.

Following the line of his sight, she held out her hand, letting him see the shard in her skin. "I'm curious what you hope to do for our lot, my lord."

[hugeinorlais]

"What can I say, I like a gamble," Varric admitted lightheartedly with a short shrug. "As for you all, well, I was hoping you'd tell me."

"Sure, I've been dragged away from my home by Divine intervention, carted off to Maker knows where, and left to my own devices while someone stares on in heavy scrutiny, but you guys have it way worse," Varric said and gestured idly to her hand. "You got stuck with fadey-magic-bullshit."

He glanced back into the room and, as it always did, the snack table was practically calling his name. When he looked back, he had a certain air about him, the air a person gets when they know there's pastries available on a nearby tray.

"Also there's that whole 'are you or are you not demons' business which is just rude, but sort of run of the mill for Chantry types."

[demonicbeauty]

There was that word again: Demons. Thrown about as casually as a word like 'blond' or 'short.' Ariadne still wasn't clear on what it meant, but she'd begun to hope that it was different from the way it was used back home.

For her own sake.

She followed the line of his gaze again, though, and her troubles were momentarily put aside. Leaning forward, she lowered her voice and said, "You'd better go grab one now, before all the good ones are gone."

[hugeinorlais]

Varric's casual smile bloomed into a full grin as she leaned forward and encouraged him to snag a pastry. He could have defended himself, denied the claim, but his fondness for baked goods was hardly a secret. He ducked out of their conversation, briefly, and after a few moments spent examining the trays on the table, returned with what appeared to be an Orlesian creme tart.

Forced to choose between gesturing with his drink hand or his pastry hand, Varric went with the latter, and gestured to all of Ariadne.

"Good eye. It's good to see that the real priorities are universal, right?" He gestured back at the table and made a slightly pained face. "Avoid the ones with the purple frosting--they're mushroom and anise. Truly, truly terrible."

[demonicbeauty]

Ariadne smiled sweetly. Although she didn't spend a lot of time among courtiers, she could read body language just the same as any other language.

And, really, she could be every bit as serious about baked goods herself. Anything cooked, really. It all fascinated her. After all, Alastrians didn't use fire to change their food.

They just ate it all raw.

"Anise and mushroom?" she asked curiously. "What people of Thedas thought to put those two together?"

Varric Tethras, Cultural Attaché

[hugeinorlais]

"Orlesians," Varric replied in the same flat and slightly exasperated tone someone might use to point out a particularly bothersome and flamboyant bird that had decided to interrupt their picnic.

"I mean, yeah, they get it right fairly often, and they really know how to throw a party," he ceded and held up his own tart in evidence, "but they have this weird fascination with being trendy and fashionable. Everything has to be current, all the time, and sometimes they managed to outstrip the pace of genuine creativity. When they do, Maker knows they can't just have the same thing they had last year, so they fill the void with, well...anise and mushroom."

He shrugged.

"You'll know which humans are Orlesian if you look out for the masks. Usually gold. They tend to wear the worst colors and have a morbid love of buttons and lace."

Yesssssss

[demonicbeauty]

She laughed, then immediately felt guilty. It was wrong to giggle at someone's expense. It was just that...well. Her realm had that certain type too.

Or, at least, they had before the Red Dragon. But she preferred not to dwell on that too much.

"What's your name, my lord?" she asked him, tilting her head again.

[hugeinorlais]

"No title, here," Varric corrected with a casual, dismissive wave. "In fact, by dwarven standards, I'm technically casteless, but you know dwarves. Hang out in the sunshine just once and you're forever ruined and unfit to wander around in dank underground tunnels. It's harsh, living in relative, above-ground luxury, but I get by."

He shuffled his pastry and, fortunately, the snack was large enough that it didn't fit into the top of his flagon. With a hand free he held it out and waited for hers in return.

"As I said before: Varric Tethras," he reintroduced himself with ease. "I also answer to 'Handsome', 'Hard in Hightown Guy', and occasionally: 'Get him!'"

[demonicbeauty]

It was a little embarrassing to admit, but Ariadne knew precious little about the dwarves. She'd observed them from a distance. But they had no real place in her schema of the world. There was nothing exactly like them back home. Which made them curious.

And made her a little shy.

But it seemed like the fates had smiled on her and her curiosity. This dwarf was downright friendly. And she felt that maybe she might be able to work up the nerve to ask him a few questions.

...maybe.

In the meanwhile, she offered him a hand. "Ariadne," she replied. "Ariadne Everdeen." She still couldn't adjust to the delightful novelty of having an adopted name. It felt a little bit like playing dress-up. But it was real and it was wonderful and it gave her a place in the world. She was Katniss Everdeen's little sister.

[hugeinorlais]

"Ariadne, pleasure to meet you," Varric replied as he shook her hand. She seemed especially pleased, if not a little embarrassed to be chatting with him. If he didn't know, for a fact, that she was from another world, he would have assumed she was a fan of his. All things being what they were, however, he could only wonder what that whole expression was about.

He wasn't about to point it out and ask, of course. He was a rogue but he had some tact.

"So, apart from assisting wayward dwarves toward the pastry table, what do you do so far around Thedas, Ariadne?"

[demonicbeauty]

"Oh, you can call me 'Airy' if you like," she said. "Almost everyone does."

And it was a nickname that suited her. As if, somehow, her parents had known that she'd grow up to be the little nymph that she was. Maybe they had. She'd inherited her skills with probability from her father, after all. Still. It wasn't like Common was their native language.

It was a stretch.

"I don't do much," she admitted. "Mostly fetch and carry for the healers when they need help. And my sister Katniss has a program started to build homes for the refugees, so I've been helping her where I can."