[open] Two Tevinter Mages Walk into Kirkwall

[thorndergod]

WHO: Thor and Loki of House Asgard, you!
WHAT: Joining the Inquisition
WHEN: Current
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: Racism likely.

1. Open - In the Gallows

It's bright and early when two unknown men stroll into the Gallows, heads high. The taller, blonder one seems cheerful as he looks around.

"Grim and cold! We are truly in the south now. Which ones do you suppose are the... servants?" It's a narrow save.

"The ones with the pointed ears, as always," the dark haired man replies and settles his arms across his chest. He regards the courtyard with open distaste and his expression becomes one of resignation, after a beat. "Though we are in the south, so perhaps it is merely the poor that serve them. Their shoes should be sufficient indication."

"Shoes. Of course." The blond man starts peering at people's feet openly, making no effort to hide his scrutiny or lower his voice. "All of their shoes are poor, so perhaps all of these are servants. You there! Who is in charge? Who do two new allies need to speak with when joining?" He points at someone mostly at random.

2. Closed to Beleth

Beleth Ashara. It is an elfy name. Thor holds his misgivings close to his chest as he leads the way up the stairs as directed. Has the Inquisition already started its fall? What aid will they be in the fight against Corypheus and the Venatori if they've begun to falter? They are questions he'll ask his brother later. For now, he's approaching the open door of an office and knocking hard on it, breaking into a wide smile despite his assumption proving true.

"Greetings! I am Thor of House Asgard, this is my brother Loki, and we are here to join the Inquisition! I have papers of introduction from my father." With full confidence he holds them out. There is no way an elf could find fault or flaw in the words of Odin.

3. Open - In Hightown

Kirkwall is...tolerable, in the right light and in the right neighborhood. Where the docks and the lower levels of the city had been unbearably diverse and grimy, the finer neighborhoods are far less of both. Hightown is decorous, lovely, and well manicured. The air is clearer, the sun is brighter, and there many, many fewer of the lower classes meandering about. It isn't Tevinter but, overall, it's not a terrible place to spend a few months...or however long this whole situation takes to resolve.

It can't be terribly long, not once they've contributed their own talents to the cause.

"I imagine the view would be excellent if we can see that portion of the harbor," Loki comments and gestures down toward the sprawling ocean view beyond. It is mostly obscured by mansions. Mansions that Loki would like to own in the near future (ideally to demolish to construct a proper villa, but that was a plan for another day).

"What say you, brother, shall we purchase that one?" Loki asks and Thor, at his side. Thor, to his credit, takes a moment to peer at the house, to give it a proper amount of scrutiny, and then all but shouts:

"Yes! I like it! We shall take it!"

The owners, leaving their house and headed toward the market, seem utterly confused by the announcement.

--

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[hwaaaitsme]

Loki, as if seeing her hand for the first time, cradles it with his own and draws it up to get a better look. For as quickly as his focus had recentered upon Gwenaëlle's face, now it transfers to her hand. It is magic he has never seen before and one of the major factors why he'd let Thor drag him down here...and how convenient for him that it is attached to someone he knows so well.

"Indeed, a rather effective tether to the organization I imagine," Loki replies in a tone that hovers between fascinated and academic. He glances back at Gwenaëlle who, for all her politesse, doesn't seem particularly glad to see him. That is fair, he supposes, given how they had fought and parted ways.

Still, he is here now and is always one for a challenge.

He turns her hand back over and presses a kiss against the back of it before lowering it again, to his arm.

"There is no way to be rid of it, I take it?"

[thorndergod]

He will admit he is not the most up-to-date on Orlesian court manners, but he's fairly certain that kissing a woman when she hasn't invited one to do so goes against them. Thor clears his throat.

"May I see it, Lady Vauquelin?" It'll get her hand away from Loki if she'd like that, and he can't deny that new magic is interesting. He's not going to take time studying it, that's his brother's realm of things, but exposure to new things is part of the fun of traveling.

[elegiaque]

Ah, the blond one does have manners, after all. Somewhere in there. With her eyebrows still slightly raised from the look that Loki had earned himself for that (not a terribly impressed one, but she's always been prickly—), Gwenaëlle offers her hand to Thor, only somewhat gingerly,

“You'll see a few of these,” she predicts. “They're shards of the Anchor that the Herald had. How the rifts are closed, not,” preemptively, “that that's something you should expect to see me doing.”

One of these days she might not be able to avoid it, but she's not putting herself into that situation on purpose.

[hwaaaitsme]

Gwenaëlle regards Thor with polite tolerance and, in truth, it is a far kinder expression than the one that Loki levels at him. He watches as his brother turns his former lover's hand over in his. It is all he can do not to sigh openly.

"Of course not, why would anyone willingly charge toward one of those?" Loki asks though it is largely rhetorical. He would charge toward a rift, if only for the thrill of it...and because that sort of magic is new and filled with endless possibilities.

"They spit out demons and disrupt reality, or so I've been told?"

[thorndergod]

"They would charge to fight the demons, of course," Thor says as if it's the most obvious statement in the world. He looks over the shard before releasing her hand with a nod of thanks and straightening.

"I do not enjoy fighting demons as much as I do qunari," he admits Gwenaelle, "but they are a decent challenge. And of course when they are invading there is full reason to meet them headlong." There's clear enjoyment in his voice; he loves the fight.

"They do not expect you to help with the rifts?"

[elegiaque]

A just so tilt of her head is the answer to Loki's question (her free hand drifts—to her locket, and surely the gesture was always going to be that, and not toward scars she's grown accustomed to), but as for Thor's—

“I'm sure they'd like me to,” she says, even enough, “but as I'm not a member of the Inquisition, it's entirely my own discretion what I wish to do with my time.”

She has very carefully avoided being put in a position where she might actually answer to anyone who could force that issue.