Kostos shows up with a book, a stack of papers, and an inability to actually look annoyed—but an attempt, nonetheless, as he says, "You can't keep using me this way." He leans sideways to look around Nell at the room, for no particular reason other than strength of habit. Know the layout, know the exits, know what's flammable. "I have feelings."
"Of course you do," Nell replies blithely, reaching up and back to pat his shoulder as he leans around her.
It's not quite the Undercroft--or so she's been told, never having visited Skyhold--but it is a meticulously fortified space built into one of the small Gallows island's last remaining hills, half underground but with heavy doors at the back of the gently domed space that can be opened out over the water. The better to blow shit up without needing to clean up shrapnel.
Which is what brings them here today. "I was thinking of your feelings, as a matter of fact." She claims, stepping past him and into the room, heeled boots clicking on stone floor. "I know how much you like feeling useful, for one. Not to mention the nobility of our cause here today, I know how you have feelings about noble causes."
He follows behind her with heavier steps, pausing to deposit his things on a table, things he brought along in anticipation of not always being necessary, or only being necessary for the things he can do without paying attention, out of the entirely misguided belief that he won't be entertained and distracted by noisy destruction. He should know better. But instead, he brought notes on the Magisterium.
Still: immediately distracted. Kostos makes his way to the sets of armor at the edge of the room (which feels quieter than the rest of the Gallows, where quiet means less crowded by spirits pressed against the Veil; they didn't execute anyone in this room, probably; it makes his shoulders relax just a little) and touches a pauldron.
"If they do ever invent armor we can't destroy, you'll be in trouble, won't you."
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It's not quite the Undercroft--or so she's been told, never having visited Skyhold--but it is a meticulously fortified space built into one of the small Gallows island's last remaining hills, half underground but with heavy doors at the back of the gently domed space that can be opened out over the water. The better to blow shit up without needing to clean up shrapnel.
Which is what brings them here today. "I was thinking of your feelings, as a matter of fact." She claims, stepping past him and into the room, heeled boots clicking on stone floor. "I know how much you like feeling useful, for one. Not to mention the nobility of our cause here today, I know how you have feelings about noble causes."
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He does.
He follows behind her with heavier steps, pausing to deposit his things on a table, things he brought along in anticipation of not always being necessary, or only being necessary for the things he can do without paying attention, out of the entirely misguided belief that he won't be entertained and distracted by noisy destruction. He should know better. But instead, he brought notes on the Magisterium.
Still: immediately distracted. Kostos makes his way to the sets of armor at the edge of the room (which feels quieter than the rest of the Gallows, where quiet means less crowded by spirits pressed against the Veil; they didn't execute anyone in this room, probably; it makes his shoulders relax just a little) and touches a pauldron.
"If they do ever invent armor we can't destroy, you'll be in trouble, won't you."