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

[qunari]

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.

Comments

[pinprick]

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?"

[qunari]

"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.