[ 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

[fightingale]

A reprimand, you say? She would never.

She would also never offer any warning before standing behind someone poking around her Angst Tower Spire of Brooding Rookery, so her shadow is cast over Lex before so much as a footstep can be detected. No matter what he is doing, she somehow seems to loom.

"Good afternoon." Sounds like: stabby stabby death death.

[goodforsaken]

Dear Maker I've made a terrible mistake--someone else's inner monologue would go. Lex is unfortunately that kind of idiot smart that fears basically nothing, even when it would be really, really wise to fear like, the fucking Purple Hoodie of Death.

He startles, regardless; whether he did it for show or not is ...mutable. "You must be Sister Nightingale." A beat, assessing and faintly humorous. "Unless there are two women of your description stalking the halls, in which case the title does lose some lustre."

[fightingale]

"I must be," she echoes, watching him with the faintest hint of a smile. On someone that weren't the Nightingale a small smile could be deemed a good thing; on her, it could be good, or it could be the sign of imminent doom.

"Thus far I have encountered very little competition for my title, although I would be careful how readily you mention lustre in the Rookery."

In fact, several ravens are already looking his way, rather intent. One in particular, the Baroness, is hopping along the railing. "They have discovered a fondness for glitter."

THANKS, DORIAN.

[goodforsaken]

That ...makes it sound more like they might peck out the eyes of the unsuspecting, which probably wasn't Dorian's intent. Or was it--anyway. "I'll try to keep any subsequent mentions to a minimum."

Droll. Who knows how serious he is. He eyes the Baroness warily, just in case. "And I shouldn't take up too much of your time, I've just been sent as an emissary from the committee of No Further Assassination Attempts, If You Please."

All those capitals are audible somehow.

[fightingale]

"Very wise."

Even so, the Baroness is hopping closer, and Leliana turns to look at the raven before jerking her head in a nod that earns an indignant squawk, and the dowager raven heavily flapping to the other side of the rookery, even as she continues to beadily eye their guest.

"The committee," Leliana continues, bird chaos (at least temporarily) averted, "is very attentive. I trust the committee is also aware that the work here is of a delicate nature."

The "committee" perhaps did not appreciate how aggravating noise and distractions could be.