[OPEN] don't you ever tame your demons

[minrathousian]

WHO: Atticus Vedici + various starters, and OPEN
WHAT: Some dream stuff, some general stuff, some tense stuff.
WHEN: The first half of January
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: None currently, will update as needed.

I. DREAMING (GALADRIEL)


Whatever dream Galadriel finds herself immersed in, on one particular night, something about it will change--a softening around the edges of it, at first, like someone painting watercolour across the world around her. Colours blend and bleed into each other until her surroundings lose their definition entirely, though the painter himself, when he steps into view, is clearly identifiable.

Perhaps he should have asked first.

"Good evening," Atticus greets her in what is, perhaps, the closest approximation to real friendliness that he can muster.



II. DREAMING (ADALIA)


His appearance in Adalia's dreams--on another night, at another time--is more subtle. Masked and shrouded, he insinuates himself into the fabric of her dream in such a way that he is more a part of the scenery than a visitor distinct from their surroundings.

Still, he follows the marks that the sleeping mind leaves in the Fade; ultimately, it will lead him to Adalia.



III. AROUND THE GALLOWS (OPEN)


He has been free from the Gallows' dungeon long enough to develop a routine. It looks something like this:

He rises quite early in the morning and takes a small breakfast in his private quarters, before reporting, as required, to his Templar handler du jour for his work assignment. This, predictably, lands him in the Rifts and the Veil work rooms, or in the library, where the majority of his time is spent pouring over the Inquisition's existing resources and putting in requisitions for additional material. (Some of the books he requires, unfortunately, are only available in the Minrathous Circle's Arcane Library. He files each of these notes away for further consideration.)

Lunch he takes in the mess hall so as to not present the appearance of being secretive or unsociable (perish the thought). He rarely has guests here, or in the baths. Dinner, again, is a private affair in his quarters, where he pours over his notes from the day with a glass of wine and the remnants of his still very broken reading glasses.

Some evenings, if he can lower himself enough to ask permission for it, he tolerates the bitter cold long enough to venture outside and observe what he can of the City of Chains across the murky water. It's not much of a view, but spending half a year behind bars gives one the ability to appreciate even the most underwhelming skyline.

In short, Atticus keeps himself busy, and is often alone. He seems to prefer it this way.



IV. ATTICUS' QUARTERS (MYR)


One especially cold evening after the conclusion of his work, Atticus brings a few books with him back to his quarters and settles in to peruse them before turning in for the night. In the relative privacy of his room, he feels little compunction about frowning to himself as he closes his single window as tightly as possible, endeavouring in vain to keep the chill from infiltrating his chambers.

(Had it been this cold in the dungeons, or did the illusion of freedom give him more opportunities to nitpick? He quiets the thought.)



V. WILDCARD (OPEN)


(surprise the shit out of me)

Comments

[justice_is_blond]

There's a flicker of amusement on Anders' face at the addition, but most of his focus is on the absence. On one hand, he's glad that there aren't Templars hounding more than one mage. They need to stop hounding any so this looks like progress, except he can't wrap his head around them being more watchful of Benedict than Atticus.

"I'm the last to be upset by lack of Templars," he begins slowly, "but why aren't there any here? They're still watching Benedict, and he's more likely to accidentally stab himself with a slice of bread than he is to hurt anyone."

[minrathousian]

Atticus stops (reluctantly) to regard Anders archly. "I daresay Ser Coupe would not agree with your assessment," he replies wryly. "He did leave her bespelled during his ill-fated attempt to attack me in the dungeons, some months back. Would you care to have this conversation indoors?" he asks, turning a brief, sour look towards the sky. "I suspect the weather is turning on us."

[justice_is_blond]

He looks up to the sky following Atticus' gaze. The air had been badly needed, but if he wants Atticus to talk he's likely going to need to pay attention to the other man's comfort level rather than his own. With a slow breath he nods and then leads the way back in.

"I spent seven years in Kirkwall," he mutters. "It had enough decency to not snow or be quite this cold any of those years. Now that I have to spend so much time in this blighted building..." At least it's a little warmer once inside, and there's no one lurking in the small room they wind up in.

"I can't say I'm on the same page as her with anything. Which doesn't change my curiosity."

[minrathousian]

Anders has selected a modest (and unoccupied) office off one of the main corridors, and while it affords them a modicum of privacy, Atticus does not close the door behind them, but rather leaves it open. Best to at least present the appearance of transparency.

He leans his hip against the vacant desk and folds his hands in front of himself. In a shocking twist, he doesn't answer Anders' question immediately, instead choosing to quirk another thin smile. "You don't care for Ser Coupe," he observes--and here he can speak from experience, recalling his ignominious journey from the Gallows to the infirmary after experimenting on Church's anchor.

[justice_is_blond]

His expression gets a little flat as he leans against a wall, contemplating whether or not he really wants to go through hoops to get an answer here. The temptation to just leave is strong. At the same time, if the Templars are somehow up to something here, he may need to know. Wren's power and authority are basically unchecked as the head of Forces, a Templar underneath a Templar. It's not a good combination. Fine. He'll let Atticus toy about a little.

"No," Anders says shortly. "She seems to be of the opinion that mages and Templars were in the struggle together in the Circles, which is patently untrue, and she's a Templar with authority over the mages in the Inquisition. It is not a good situation. Were she the type to take some personal responsibility for what happened in the Circles it would be a different story, but she is not so it is not. Now. May I have an answer to my question?"

[minrathousian]

The information regarding Wren's relationship with the Inquisition's mages, her history, her opinion of the southern Chantry, is neatly filed away for later consideration. If there's something to be used there for leverage at some point, Atticus is sure he will find some way to use it.

But if Anders expects Atticus to respond quid pro quo, he's sorely mistaken. Without losing his vague smile, the magister replies simply with, "I don't wish to tell you."