faderift | he said, "son, I've made a life out of readin' people's faces" [open]

Entry tags:

he said, "son, I've made a life out of readin' people's faces" [open]

WHO: The Iron Bull and YOU (open)
WHAT: Wicked Grace
WHEN: Afternoon and Evening of Firstfall 19
WHERE: Skyhold, in The Herald's Rest
NOTES: The practice rounds in the afternoon are one-on-one. The game in the evening for veterans will be party style, and we'll keep it to five total to make it manageable. If more than that want to play, we can start a second thread. Questions? PM me or ping me on plurk.

Afternoon

Well. Turned out more than a few of the Rifts were game to try their hand at the latest proposed form of distraction. And hey, Bull wasn't so bad of a teacher. Kind of fell in line with his nature, in a way. So all those newcomers who wanted to learn the ins and outs of Wicked Grace without gambling away what little they'd brought with them? Had access to a private training ground of sorts. A couple of tables set up near the back of the tavern, and a few of the Chargers who'd volunteered to help -- the more sociable of his merry band, anyway -- and anyone asking could easily be directed back to where Bull was shuffling up the cards, and nodding in welcome to those who approached.

"Hey. Glad you could make it. Pull up a chair, and we'll get started."

Evening

Playtime was over.

As the sky darkened and the fires in the tavern burned brighter, the booze started to circulate. Coins rattled in purses, and those who knew the game well enough were invited to come play for real stakes. No more taking it easy. Bull fully expected the best game out of those who came, or at least an entertaining one.

Maybe someone would drag a few of their stiffer companions along for a round or two. Cullen, for example. Man could use a break like no one could. But chances of that were admittedly slim, and they'd make it work, no matter who showed up.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Having done her best to make an appearance over the weeks past, Josephine almost feels at home in the tavern these days. Almost. Like anything, it is a work in progress.

She slides into a seat across from Bull, offering the Qunari a smile. "It has been far too long since I've partaken in a game of Wicked Grace," she laments. "Thank you for organising this evening. It should be most enjoyable indeed."

"Eh. Figured people could probably use a break. No need to get dressed up all fancy, put some coin on the line between friends...it's a long-standing tradition, blah blah blah."

Bull snorts, taking a swig from his mug as Josephine settles in, his eye scanning the room briefly. "Don't supposed you saw anyone else on your way over? Figured we might have a couple sit in before we get started."

A Grey Warden approaches the table, but hesitates when he sees Josephine. In this informal setting, should he bow? He can imagine his mother screaming at him for whichever course of action he chooses, so he decides to treat this like a barracks atmosphere. She is here to put aside those formalities, so down he sits and pulls out a pipe.

"My lady," he says courteously to her with a nod, and glances at Bull. Who looks very much like an easy target. "May I smoke?"

Edited 2016-11-29 19:05 (UTC)

"Not my house. But I don't mind if she doesn't."

Which is really the question, isn't it? Bull can tolerate a lot more than smoke, and one ear flicks slightly as he takes a whiff. Even unlit, the pipe has a scent. Wouldn't hurt to place it.

Don't mind him. Categorizing details like that's second nature by now.

Still using her cane in the tavern - it's a good insurance policy against drunk people - it doesn't take very long for Araceli to locate Bull. Antiva was a long time ago (both times) but missions never exactly count when her head is in the game so this feels long overdue as she hooks the handle over the edge of the table with a look. Maybe she even mutters for it to stay before she carefully takes a seat without casually swinging herself into it the way she would.

The leg is almost back to normal, for once in her life she's not going to hamper it.

"Hola, I'm looking forward to a distraction." And if she's here in the afternoon then maybe she just needs a little reminder that the lyrium didn't eat all of her wits.

"Well, you came to the right place."

The lines of Bull's battle-worn face crease in a smile as he gestures to an empty seat, of which there appear to be quite a few. "Rifter, right? You know how the game works?"

He's not entirely sure, but he's seen her face around for quite a long while. And hey, keeping an eye on Korrin means he's seen her more than a few times. So, it's possible someone's taught her along the way.

No sense not offering, though. She's not sitting in with the vets.

Raising her left hand a little as answer to the first part, Araceli nods before she takes a moment to cast her mind back to when she actually did play the game. Her own Wicked Grace cards are bookmarks just now, and she has no idea what Twisted Fate would think of that if he knew.

"I had the rules taught to me a while back but I haven't played since I got back from Craintellier." That's a nice neutral way to put it. Sounds better than the longer version and it is the truth, in a roundabout sort of way. "You let people know they gamble where you come from and they want to learn all your games instead."

Not that she minds - the scouts pick it up quickly and she has a challenge, the soldiers don't so she's never short of money.

"So, due for a refresher course, then."

Better than having to explain the rules in full to a newbie. But she seems a little keen for a newbie. Got sharp eyes, a clever mouth. She's got the face for bluffing. But pretending he doesn't know better works just as well.

One scarred hand gestures to the deck.

"We can go ahead and throw in, if you think you just need to work the rust off."

"Absolutely."

And because she isn't here to be cheap, she slips one hand into a pocket - one of many, but one of the more visible of them - to set down a few silvers to start with. One eyebrow goes up because they're not playing for something in particular yet and wearing the impassive bard face doesn't work for her at the card table. Maybe it should but she spent way too many years knowing how to do this that she'd give things away from discomfort alone.

"Tell me not to if I slip into what sounds like Antivan to you, people have been letting me slide into habits I shouldn't get too comfortable in around everyone and their mother."

"Afternoon," he replies in a fairly even voice before glancing down at the chair and taking it. Anders is bad at card games in general, which means he most certainly shouldn't join the more serious game later this evening, but he's wanted to see Bull again and this is a good excuse. Or maybe simply the easiest.

"I'm bad at the game. But I thought a little more experience could help." How could someone who talks with mages, works with them, gets healed by them, see them as things? Anders doesn't understand, but he thinks he needs to rather than simply get worked up and snap at Bull again. If there is to be any countering the opinions of the Qunari, he neeeds experience with one first.

He takes a breath and tries for a smile; the result is a little tense.

And it reads loud and clear across the table. He isn't really here for the game. But Bull lets him think it plays, with a mild shrug and a gesture to his drink. "Gonna get a little lubricated first, but alright. How often you play?"

Meanwhile, he's already working on shuffling the deck. Surprisingly well, for someone with a few fingers short by a few knuckles.

"I haven't in a couple of years. Before that, it was nearly weekly for a few years." He doesn't know if he's fooling the Bull at all, but it doesn't really matter. Anders isn't trying for deception. ...Which is a good thing since he's bad at that too. He takes a breath and tries to ease up a little.

"I won once. In my partial defense, playing against Isabela and Varric is difficult at best. Especially when lubricated." That's a little better. Granted, he hadn't actually gotten to drink much in Kirkwall, Justice had been bothered by anything he deemed excessive. And when excessive equals more than one, Anders had spent a distressingly long time sober. "How often do you play?"

"Eh, Kind of fallen out of it for a while. Had other things on our plate. Figure it's as good a time as any to bring it back, see if anyone misses it."

"Keeping our eyes on the end goal, that's important. Taking care of all the other, smaller shit that crops up along the way? That's important too. But so's taking your eyes off all that for a minute or two, letting your mind resettle, resort everything."

The cards stack neatly in front of him, before he leans back heavily, motioning for one of the servers to come refill his drink.

"Doesn't matter how dark it gets. You stare into a flame long enough, you're just gonna hurt yourself."

He's not fooling Bull at all, going by how serious the conversation has already gotten. Anders is quiet for several moments, breaking it by asking for the server to bring him a drink as well once he's done refilling Bull's.

"Sometimes the flame's all you can see, especially when it's burned a path through every corner of your life. When it's paused its advance but still threatens to resume. Smaller shit and taking your mind off can easily fall through the cracks." It's been something he's struggled with since making the deal with Justice, prioritizing. Also not hurting himself, because he's not entirely certain that he shouldn't be hurting.

"I don't know if I've missed Wicked Grace, personally. I suppose I'll have to see how losing repeatedly feels before I know that one. Figuring out the rest will take far, far longer."

No chill. Anders has it.

He's got all the hallmarks of an obsessive personality, and paired with the ideals being an oppressed mage in Thedas gives you? This isn't something he wants to delve into too readily. So he simply half-shrugs in concession, before taking a swig of his fresh drink.

"Hey, I'll take it easy on you. How's that? Playing's no fun if the outcome's already decided," he offers lightly, before moving the deck to the center of the table. He gets to cut it, since it looks like they might be alone this round.

"A more honorable person might protest some mercy being given." The smallest smile appears at the corner of his mouth, despite everything else. "I'm not that honorable."

Once Bull's cut the deck, Anders deals it out and picks up his cards. ...And immediately picks up his drink. Two serpents and one of each of the other suits, of course. At least he hadn't drawn the Angel of Death this time, though.

"I believe you go first?"

"Yeah," Bull rumbles, observing his own hand with a considering look. With his free hand he reaches for the top of the deck, pulling a card into his hand and squinting, before laying out a dagger card on the discard pile.

"Eh, besides. Game's about taking advantage when the time comes to. So really, you're just playing into the spirit of things."

"It's about time I fit into the spirit of something." His voice is dry draws... a third serpent. Okay. That's better. A set of three, even in the worst suit, isn't bad. Anders nods to himself, not even thinking about the motion. Anders discards a songs card and looks up at Bull.

"So how do you learn when the time's right, and not too early or too late?" He doesn't just mean the card game, but he doubts the secondary question is going to be answered.

It's a bad idea. Cullen already feels anxious about leaving Baldewin - even if he has left him with Mia, who is by far the most competent person he knows. He's still uneasy. He comes into the tavern that night with only one intention: to find Josephine and tell her that he's going to bow out.

Except he can't find Josie. Maybe that's a bit of a blessing. He can just duck out now. Or maybe he should do one quick circuit and make absolutely sure she's not here. She'd never let him live that down.

"Hey, Cullen!"

There's a hand clapping down on his shoulder a second later. How Bull maneuvered over there so quickly is anyone's guess, but he's still there, grinning at Cullen's side. Well. That's one way of wrangling him into the game.

He'll have to thank the lady ambassador later.

"Bull." He can't help the little hint of fondness that slips into his voice. Qunari often make him uncomfortable. Nothing they've done, and he usually ends up feeling awful about it, but there is something about the bulk, the horns, the often cool demeanour... it brings up truly terrible memories. Bull is about as un-Qunari a Qunari as he's ever met. Which, yes, he realizes how horrible that sounds out of context. Still, he can't help what sets him off, and he can't help that this charming brick wall is one he's rather fond of.

Still, he has a purpose, and time is of the essence. If Josephine turns up while he's looking for her, it defeats the entire purpose. "I was looking for Lady Montilyet. Have you seen her?"

"Josie? Nah. Heard she might be by in a bit, though. Come on, have a seat."

And Bull nods towards the noticeably empty table. See? No one else to trouble him, and what's the worst Bull could do? Never mind, don't think too hard on that.

He really should just make his round and get out of the tavern as quickly as possible, but there's something about that gigantic hand on his shoulder that's difficult to refuse. "Perhaps just for a minute." He's still walking. He can still scan the room for Josephine. Things are still technically going to plan.

Kind of.

"That's the spirit. I'll get you a drink."

Smirking, Bull lets his hand fall away before moving to sit. No worry that the Commander's going to slip away. If he says he's staying, he'll do it, at least for a time, no matter how uncomfortable he is.

And it looks like he's anxious about something. Could be anything, really. Guy has a lot on his plate. Once settled again, Bull lifts a hand to signal the waitress closer.

"Come on, what are you having?"

Drinking is not part of the quick getaway plan. Still, Cullen can count the number of friends he has in this place on one--

He spends all of his time with a four year old and a mabari. One drink won't kill him. "I'll have an ale." He'll drink it quickly, they'll chat a bit, and he'll still make it out before Josie turns up. Flawless plan. No possible way it could go wrong.

Not like Bull is smirking at him with the very knowing and satisfied smirk of a man who can be confident that he's slowly working the situation to the outcome he's planned. Not at all.

Hey, whatever helps him sleep at night. Because seriously. He could carry an armory's worth of steel in those bags under his eyes.

"Top me off, and get the Commander an ale." He passes a coin off to the waitress, who gets tipped well and is therefore usually happy to see him with company. It's not a bribe to make sure he gets a particular good ale, no, not at all. A good ale might mean Cullen sticks around for two or three. Can't have that.

"Josie tell you why we were meeting up?" he queries after a moment, tipping his head in Cullen's direction.

"Yes. She thought it might do me some good to socialize." She's probably right, though he's not going to say that. "I'm just not sure it's the best use of my time right now." He has so many things he should be doing. A seemingly endless list. A functionally endless list. If not for the fact that he's pretty sure Mia would have simply locked him out of his office, he wouldn't have come down here in the first place.

"Ah. Well, looks like the crowd hasn't come in yet. You should be safe for a little while."

Because sitting here with Bull didn't count as socializing, no. He suspected it was more than likely the crowds and less the idea of being social that had Cullen spooked, but it was just a hunch. He got those, sometimes.

Truthfully, Kirk was confident enough in his skills to try at betting coin - but perhaps not against Bull. He had learned the ins and outs of the game beneath Korrin's tutelage, enough that he could spend nights in taverns against common patrons, tossing a few bits here and there and traded labors, but nothing serious. It was still a twisted game to learn and he felt more comfortable coming for the earlier session with less to lose, especially with the expense of a horse looming.

He remembered the large Qunari from the Fade, though he had not spoken to him since then. He smiled at him and took his seat.

"Hopefully I don't prove a boring partner for you."

"No such thing," he replies, eyebrow arching over his eyepatch. "Though it's interesting. Most people today seem to figure taking me on head-to-head's their safest bet. I look like an easy mark?"

One hand lifts, scratching the underside of his chin, though the faint smirk poised on his lips says he knows the truth.

"No, not easy, but it's always the ones that look the least dangerous that end up with all the coins at the end of the night, right?" Kirk laughed, letting his own lips curl into a smirk. Bull was, by far, one of the least strange things he had seen in his life, and being used to Korrin Qunari were not anything to blink twice at anymore. Even if Bull's horns were of an impressive width.

"I'm Kirk, by the way. Jim Kirk. I don't remember if I introduced myself to you before." He did not say where, not wanting to speak the place's name aloud and create a somber mood, and even if Bull did not remember he didn't mind. Better that people forgot that place.

"Korrin's taught me a bit," he nodded to the cards. "But I admit my head has always been one for board games, not cards."

"Korrin, huh?" Bull took note of that without seeming to, just a vague eyebrow arch of curiosity before he started moving the deck around. "Well good to meet you, Jim. You want to shuffle the deck or should I?"

Yeah. Less spoken about the Fade, the better. That was one outing he was in no hurry to revisit, lest he feel the need to go get hit with a heavy stick again.

"Do you know her?" he asked, thinking that Bull's tone suggested he did, but not wanting to assume. In answer to Bull's question, he pulled the deck towards himself, cutting and shuffling. It wasn't anything fancy, perfectly standard, but there was an air of swarthy confidence to it - unconsciously beginning to play the bluffing game.

"If you like, after this, I could teach you poker," he suggested. "To repay you for the lessons in Wicked Grace."

"Glad to be here," Obi-Wan replied, as at ease here as anywhere. Though, perhaps, not in the same way, "I'll admit, I've been curious about this game, but I haven't yet found the time to learn, unless it involved playing for coin."

It's rude to point out the ease with which a man assumes a seat in a drinking establishment. Jedi ought to be sober, in more sense than one. Obi-Wan knows he's not a very good Jedi, by the particulars, but he tries very hard.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

he said, "son, I've made a life out of readin' people's faces" [open]

evening

no subject

no subject

no subject

afternoon;

no subject

no subject

no subject

sorry i've been super sick and i couldn't get tags to happen

Afternoon

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

evening - closed to Bull

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

afternoon;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Afternoon