faderift | 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

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.

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

evening - closed to Bull

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject