[OPEN] and I won't fight through the rising tide

[sans_harmony]

WHO: Diwaniya and anyone who wants to bother him.
WHAT: Diwa making an unintentional nuisance of himself all over Kirkwall, p. much.
WHEN: Throughout the month.
WHERE: All over the place.
NOTES: He's trying, really.

1. Docks

Having spent the last several years of his life governing a small island, Diwaniya's accustomed to spending a fair amount of time observing what goes on around the docks. But Harmony Isle had been tiny, and remote, and even at its busiest, there were never more than a few boats coming and going at once, all tiny rickety craft with humble, grizzled captains, trading simple goods for a few crates of herbs here and there. This--this is almost overwhelming. He's never been in a place quite like Kirkwall.

But the city of his childhood was close enough, from what little he remembers of it now. It's been years since he had cause to recall anything about Dillame, with its loud bustling shipyard and its scent of wet sea air, and his parents' modest inn by the shore, and the nostalgia hits him like a smack of salt spray to the face. It's not something he should remember. It's not relevant anymore, wouldn't have been relevant even if it were physically possible for him ever to see Dillame or his family again, but now that it's not--

In any case, someone should probably remind Diwaniya that a crowded dock filled with people hurriedly lugging cargo around is not an ideal spot to stand around navel-gazing. He's kind of getting in the way.

2. Library

Diwa's authoritative assertion that it would only take him two weeks to be able to read trade as fluently as a native had been, as it turns out, somewhat overconfident. Anders' patient instruction and a month's hard work have made it easy enough for him to read street signs, notices, things printed in large and clear lettering where every letter of the foreign alphabet is distinct and recognizable--but when has that ever applied to a book anyone would want to read? The tantalizing magical tomes in the library are as incomprehensible as ever, the fonts archaic and cramped and the ink sometimes faded and blurred, and no matter how many hours he spends trying to decipher the words, all he ever seems to end up with is a blinding headache.

Slamming the heavy text shut and shoving it aside is poor library etiquette, he knows, but he'd like to think he can be forgiven for it--at least until the book falls off the table with a deafening thud. Whoops.

3. Garden

The garden, at least, doesn't require him to be able to read in order to tend it well. It would help, but as long as he can remember what Sina explains, he can do without. He's been trained to memorize things quickly and easily, but all training hinges on practice, and that's why he's talking quietly to himself as he moves among the pots to water the herbs. "--arcanist's deathroot has the red flowers, and lunatic's deathroot has the purple--no. Arcanist has the purple, lunatic has the red. Arcanist purple, lunatic red. Arcanist purple..."

The plants have all been hand-labeled in a script nobody but Diwa can read. Nobody's complained yet.

4. Stables

When searching for work, Diwaniya had made a point of omitting his zoological credentials, though they're considerably more extensive than his botanical ones--at least back home, they are. Just because he studies animals doesn't mean he wants to be put in a position to take care of them. Even the apprentices in Terrestia aren't made to muck stables or feed creations. But now that he doesn't think he's in any danger of being handed a shovel or a pitchfork and told to get busy, he's brought a pen and paper to come make some observations of all the strange foreign fauna Thedas has to offer. Horses? What are those? This shit is crazy.

He sits down on a hay bale to sketch one, eagerly glancing up to take in new details and make notes in the margins of the drawing.

5. Wildcard!

Comments

[sans_harmony]

Diwaniya hasn't even noticed the bog unicorn yet! That's going to be a treat. Just now, however, the ordinary horses are exotic enough. Even more so, oddly, than the dracolisks, and equally as strange as the nuggalopes. There's no end of fascinating zoological study to be made.

Until he's distracted, anyway, and Diwaniya looks up at Jamie with an air of annoyance that would be rather more appropriate if he weren't the one intruding on the stables. One month in Thedas isn't quite sufficient to overcome years of entitlement to walk into any place he pleased as if he owned it.

"No," he says, "if I needed a research assistant, I would have sought one out, but thank you."

[wontforgetyou]

Diwaniya can have the bog unicorn and be welcome to it, as far as he's concerned, but Jamie's never been fond of the entitled sort. At the words his face takes on a somewhat irritated expression, his lips pressing together as his mouth tugs off to one side. Still, he takes a moment to finish leading the horse back into its stall - and to start removing the bridle and other bits of tack, as well. He's not about to make the horse wait to have that done, no matter how annoyed the other man is by having someone else in his relative vicinity.

"If I'd been looking to be someone's research assistant, I'd find someone who's actually doing some research and not someone who's just wasting paper. What's your business here?"

[sans_harmony]

Diwaniya clenches his fist around the pencil hard enough to pose a threat to its structural integrity, in a fit of pique both at the disturbance of his observation and the tone Jamie takes, but he has gotten a little better at controlling his temper now that he's at this much of a distance from his homeland. He can find another horse to sketch.

"Really? I'd think you would make an ideal assistant, seeing as you're already such an expert on my work that you can tell me whether it's valid or not. I shouldn't have to explain anything at all, at this rate."

[wontforgetyou]

Jamie casts a narrow eyed look at the other man, noting the grip with a tiny bit of satisfaction. Looks like he might have hit a nerve - which only serves to reinforce his opinion that the man's not here for any legitimate reason, and he lets out a brief snort before giving the saddle and girth a quick once over to take care of the most obvious dirt that's gotten on it. He'll give it a proper going over later on, but doing that small bit now'll save him some time in the end, and that makes it worth it.

Once that's done, he turns his attention to grooming the horse, making sure not only to sponge down the area where the saddle normally sits but to check for any rubbing or chafing that might have taken place. That doesn't stop him from glancing up at that comment, fixing Diwaniya with an expression that shows his mouth still is firmly tugged off to one side.

"Oh, shouldn't you? Well, if that's the case, I'll be glad to save you the trouble, but I don't think you'll much care for what I have to say."

[sans_harmony]

"I don't see why you had to say anything at all." He's made a show of ignoring the horse grooming and turning back to his notes, writing down his observations now that he's been prevented from drawing them. There's no need to let himself be interrupted by the sort of person who has to clean up after animals for a living, he tells himself.

"One wonders why a man with such authority over the stables is doing all the labor in them on his own. Surely a policy-maker as lofty as yourself has people to groom the beasts for him."

[wontforgetyou]

The horse's legs feel fine, and a quick check of the shoes satisfies him that they're still in good condition, with only a minimum of picking needed. It's something he's able to do in short order - and only then does he bother responding, setting down the hoof pick firmly enough that there's an audible clunk as it hits the wood of the small shelf it's normally kept on.

"Because I'm not the one who's trespassing here. You are," Jamie points out, stepping out of the stall. He's had just about enough of this, and he doesn't hesitate in crossing the room to stand in front of where Diwaniya is sitting, not caring if the attempt to block the man's line of sight means he winds up in the man's personal space. "And if you don't start answering my questions, I might just have to do something about that."