The Days That Bind Us 2: Still Bound

[exequy]

WHO: Mages, anyone else who cares
WHAT: Give us liberty or give us potatoes, or: a most noble strike for a most noble purpose, or: pissy mage babies throw a tantrum
WHEN: 14-19 Cloudreach 9:44
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: This is for consolidating RP regarding the strike. Your character doesn't have to be striking themselves to top-level or tag around, as long as it's tangentially related.

The morning of Cloudreach 14, with minimal fanfare, a significant fraction of the Circle mages working with the Inquisition across Thedas stops showing up for work. On the other hand, a significant fraction doesn't stop. But the not-working fraction is significant enough to cause problems, and for the Inquisition to not delay or prolong the discussions already set to take place at Skyhold with a few representatives of the aggrieved mages and a number of Templar and Chantry representatives.

In the Gallows, most of the mages who are refusing to work relocate—voluntarily, unless being scowled at by Kostos Averesch qualifies as being forced against one's will—to the dusty recruits' quarters in the former Templar tower for an indefinite, politicized slumber party, featuring uncomfortable bunk beds and a lot of unseasoned starches. For a cause.

ooc | Remember that striking characters are generally losing access to confidential information, Inquisition equipment or materials, and any amenities, comforts, or privileges beyond the "plain potatoes for dinner" and "not thrown out into the streets" level.

Comments

[keenly]

Somehow, parents have never been a difficult topic for Colin just because his have died. Most mages speak about their families in the past tense anyway, whether alive or not.

"I hope so," he says fondly. "We all need something to aspire to. Who'd you learn cooking from?"

[extraverse]

"Why, I taught myself," Ignis admits after a moment of thought. His fingers move around the bowl that was handled to him, gauging how big it is. He finds the spoon and gets used to how it feels in his fingers. He mostly seems to be doing this absentmindedly, as if trying to distract himself from thinking of the past too hard.

"For ... political reasons," he had to pause to figure out how to frame the way he spoke of this. "Our country was cut off from Tenebrae, another nation. Before that, the royal family had had close ties with Tenebrae for generations. The prince under my care enjoyed a certain type of dessert found there during his visit. Once Lucis and Tenebrae were isolated from one another he could no longer taste it. I began baking in an effort to re-create its flavor and found a talent for it. After that, it made sense to continue to make other meals for him. He'd likely survive on junk food otherwise." A beat. "Barely survive at that."

[keenly]

A grin Ignis can probably hear in his voice. "What is it? The dessert?"

[extraverse]

"A type of cake. I'm afraid I was never able to re-create it perfectly." He offers Colin as smile as well. Then he tries some of the meal and hums gratefully.

"This is lovely. You should be proud."

[keenly]

"It's just a carbonara." Colin says with a faint blush, unconvinced there is anything to be impressed by. "I couldn't even get quite the right kind of meat for it. But, um, could you describe the cake? How it's made?"

[extraverse]

"Are you plotting to help me take up the mission of perfecting the recipe, Colin?" Ignis asks, sounding vaguely amused at that idea.

[keenly]

"Should I not?"

[extraverse]

Ignis shakes his head. "I wouldn't say that," he says calmly. "Perhaps working with you would help me to accomplish a task I've attempted for many years. Then I would have something wonderful to greet the King with when he returns."