[ open?? closed? schrödinger's log?? ] heroes always get remembered

[goodforsaken]

WHO: Lex Luthor, assorted guest stars, and YOU??
WHAT: General intro purposes? Get you some arms and armor made, Inquisition! Geek out in the library! Be confused by the incongruous noble all up in the Undercroft!
WHEN: Approximately now - the end of August.
WHERE: Skyhold: the Undercroft + Library + the buffet option
NOTES: Starters in comments. As it stands no warnings are required; I'll edit here a/o subject lines if that changes. Here is Lex's info post for anyone who'd like to run with the idea that they've heard of him/had contact before!

Being possessed of the incredibly informed opinion most not!Orlesians have of Orlais when they've only ever visited and spoken mostly to people wearing silly hats, Lex is more than comfortable with his first forays into the Inquisition taking place in Skyhold and not Halamshiral. That's where he's ultimately most useful anyway; he suffers no illusions regarding any diplomatic capabilities that don't involve ensnaring largeish globs of money.

The day side ....globbage occurs, however, is not this day or, nor is it whatever other days this log ends up involving. No, instead here we are in Skyhold, where Lex's general occupancy encompasses the following:

Comments

[apostafuckyou]

Raylan raised his eyebrows, and considered saying something along the lines of being unsure how Lex was going to fix the weighting, but he decided he probably shouldn't tell anyone how to do their job. So he went over to the bases.

He was able to pick the ones that were likely just from sight, and gave each of those few a spin before carrying back a couple. They were all roughly the right height for him, though probably lighter and slimmer than Lex was expecting -- Raylan favored speed over sheer brute strength, whether magical or physical.

"This one's the best," he said, tapping the one made of some bluish metal. "But these are all pretty good. And to answer the question, it was the best option out of what was left in the store room when I finally left my Circle. I was one of the last." Raylan had a terrible feeling he was the last, as in, the few he'd left behind had never made it out.

[goodforsaken]

Well, that told him what attachments not to use, i.e. not the more uh, bludgeony ones. That mage staffs functioned as physical weapons in addition to their magic properties was relatively new in his base of knowledge, but he was enjoying incorporating it. Meanwhile:

'One of the last' got a noncommittal acknowledgment noise; that sounded (he erroneously assumed) like further response might incur the sticky, pungent horror of personal details, [disgusted noise]. "Glad to hear it's not top of the line merchandise."

Dry as dust. Although as an explanation for why the Circles hadn't rebelled sooner he'd have accepted it: because they all would have died immediately. He gestured for the blueish staff, made the same considering hefting gesture before tossing it from hand to hand. "If you had to stab something in a pinch, could you? Or would you just wind up being eaten. I can work with either, I just prefer specifics. When possible. Something whoever made this staff either forgot about or never knew in the first place."

Ughhhh.

[apostafuckyou]

"A thing that's been stabbed can probably still eat me," Raylan pointed out. "But I wouldn't get gummed to death by an elderly nug if I had a good blade." Which was a roundabout way of saying that yes, he could stab things. It was maybe a little attempt to needle the man, who, while extremely squirrelly, seemed like a pretty direct type.

"That still had half the blade on it when I got it," he said, nodding to the staff he still considered 'his' and not 'garbage'. "Ain't missed it too much, though." But, again, he hadn't done a lot of fighting. Holed up in his shack, most of those who came by looking for trouble could be scared off by some theatrics, and he didn't need the staff for that.

[goodforsaken]

Lex elects to just ignore the smartassery, because like ...he has work to do, and that is five hundred times more important and interesting than banter. "I see. Do you think if you had a proper staff and not an oversized toothpick the Inquisition might make you work for a living?"

[apostafuckyou]

Raylan had taken a knee, picking up a piece of the random scrap metal scattered around because he was curious. He glanced up to give Lex an annoyed glare. "I work," he informed Lex. "I just don't need a staff to do it. I teach kids the basics and I do research." There weren't a lot of regular kids around, but mage children didn't have much of anywhere else to go, except the Inquisition.