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Entry tags:
you were a demon to me (open)
WHO: Hanzo Shimada and you!
WHAT: Summary of content
WHEN: Over the week
WHERE: Kirkwall, all over
NOTES: N/A at the moment!
WHAT: Summary of content
WHEN: Over the week
WHERE: Kirkwall, all over
NOTES: N/A at the moment!
HIGHTOWN
[ At night, the hours dwindling away into the budding dawn, a figure appears to move throughout Kirkwall, his time spent scouting along the top of Kirkwall. It's almost as if he is on guard, somehow. He's silent, stalking along whatever walls and tiles he can manage to get a grip on to make his way across the city. For the most part, he doesn't duck down into the streets or around where people might be able to interact with him; he's trying to plot out escape routes, trying to make sure he knows where he is and what he's doing, making sure he knows the lay of the land.
Sometimes, there is no grip nor a wall for him to clamber up and that's when he drops down to street level, the armour on his legs making his fall silent as he slips through the darkness, ribbon moving behind him. He seems to do his best to keep to the shadows, but anyone watching may well pick him out, especially in the brighter, more populated areas of the towns.
Recognising the strengths of scouting Hightown over Lowtown - with high buildings and places to duck and cover - Hanzo spends some hours moving along, as if learning routes, learning places, discovering things that might be useful to him in the future. There doesn't appear to be any true purpose to his climbing and wandering, but to those with a keen eye or sharp senses his presence is easy enough to note. ]
LOWTOWN
[ When the day ends and Hanzo isn't making his way across the tops of Hightown, he slips away somewhere quieter, through the streets of Lowtown to a back tavern. It's not a hidden place by any means, but it's quieter than the more populated areas. It's more to Hanzo's tastes, slipping away into quieter spaces, moving in plain sight, pretending as though he does not feel the eyes of the populace on him wherever he goes. No matter how much time he spends with the Inquisition or how long he has worked with their forces he still feels somewhat of an outcast; he is not from Ferelden, not of the Marches, not something they can respect.
It would be worse if he admitted his talents in magic, though most assume that, too. It's difficult to remove magic from a man so clearly from Tevinter.
Inside the small tavern he sits in a corner with his eyes on the door; the people staffing the place seem to know him well enough and he has a usual drink that sits in front of him. After half an hour, watching and waiting, he stops and draws out a book, beginning to flick through and start to make notes. ]
(FORMER) MAGES TOWER/WILDCARD
[ When he returns from his walks and his drinking it is usually later at night, but Hanzo is just as stealthy as he goes. It's rare that he returns with a wobble in his step, but he can often be caught travelling from Lowtown to his room or the depths of Hightown away and up to the Gallows. Anyone is free to encouter him along the way, certainly since he usually has one hand on his bow ready at all times. ]
Gallows - Wildcard
Beside him, Interceptor growled low in his throat, trying to assess the possible threat in front of them with deep sniffs.
hightown.
hightown is familiar, in its manicured streets and genteel ugliness. she is learning to find it familiar practically, too, and the way that she's done so is not so entirely dissimilar to the way that hanzo does, which perhaps is why the movement draws her eye in the first place.
it isn't entirely obvious, at first, that she's following him. she doesn't, for example, scamper up the wall. (her skirts do not look at all suited to such pursuits.) she continues her more meandering walk, pausing and losing track of him once or twice, but when he is finally obliged to drop to street-level she is conveniently to hand, turning to him with an amiable smile as she might begin a new conversation in a drawing room when natural pauses allow: )
Mssr Shimada, yes?
( petrana is a division head. she can't claim to know all the outposts residents by face and name, but it has struck her as prudent—particularly in her position—to be well aware of those who hail from tevinter. )
no subject
"It is what I am used to." Hanzo turns his eyes down at the dragon and narrows them, frowning. He has no love of animals, certainly not animals that could very easily leave him desperately wounded. "And it avoids conversation."
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Being called by name, however... That is a novelty. He stops, ready to move and scramble up a wall, pausing with a shift of his body, eyes widening a fraction. It's rare that anyone uses his name - rare for anyone to recognise him, above all else - and he's forced into moving forward out of something more like curiosity than anything else.
The woman is familiar, at least. Not someone that Hanzo sees nor visits often, as he has little reason to interact with most people in the Inquisition, but familiar enough that he knows to bow his head in some kind of formal greeting. ]
Yes. [ And, then, a little more blunt: ] What do you want?
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( under the circumstances of his position and potential, yes; tevinter is of some intellectual interest to her, considering her own background, but the practical nuts and bolts of a war fought on five fucking fronts is itself pressing enough.
the smile she offers is bracing, braced, but she didn't rise in the inquisition by faltering when strange men are merely blunt; she is herself sufficiently understated (a woman folded into herself like an elegant fan) that it prompts no adjustment of her mood or approach. steady, steady.
with a gesture toward the roof; )
You move very ably. It's one of few practical talents I might claim to share, ( faintly deprecating, not without humor. petrana knows to what she is and is not suited, in this world and this life. ) Though you seem one moving towards, and not from.
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"You know, I have found the easiest way to avoid conversation is to walk in places where most other people walk through and ignoring people like they have the Blight." He drawled. "But to each their own."
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"Perhaps doing as I do avoids conversations such as this." His fingers relax from their movements towards his bow. "And it allows me to learn the makeup of the city. I am a scout." As if that explains everything.
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[ Short, simple and to the point. Hanzo has little love for the people in positions of power - none of them are from his homeland and few of them have done anything to earn his respect so far. He has no desire to play around with language and formalities when there's no reason for it, however, not when he's been called out in the midst of one of his jaunts through Hightown. There's a chance that he might be reprimanded for it, however, and that calls for a little bit of caution, even if he's not particularly keen on the idea.
It doesn't matter how long he spends away from home, some things are difficult to forget.
If he's surprised by the notion that she might clamber around just as he does his face doesn't show it. He's stony and tense, poised to bolt at any moment like a wild animal caught in a bear trap. Clearly, beneath all of his stoic exterior, Hanzo is not quite as comfortable with company as he might like to make it appear. ]
I am a scout. It is what I have been trained to do. [ Not entirely a lie, but not entirely the truth, either. ] Is there something you want from me? Or do you seek to compare all of our talents?
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obliging him to be responsible for her safety of an afternoon is unlikely to be terribly winning. )
They are quite different, I'm sure, ( she demurs. ) But perhaps if the opportunity arose to share them,
( a small, steady smile. )
I'll not keep you from your business.
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"Aaaaaah." Considering what James knows of his dear Beleth, it does. "So you are mapping the city from a vantage point. Like one of the Spymistresses crows."
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"Yes." He tilts his head, just a little. "If there is ever any threat to Kirkwall I will know the best route to take at all times." Or a threat to himself, of course.
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Some things are impossible to forget, after all. ]
I am certain of it. [ His head tilts for a moment.
What is her intent here? What does she want from him? Hanzo has no idea. ]
I have... [ He frowns. ] If there is a chance. Perhaps.
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"Sounds like a good strategy. I applaud you. I'm a personal friend to your Scoutmaster, so I'll be sure to drop her a note, letting her know how seriously you take your duties."
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It's not as if he is doing it for the benefit of the Scoutmaster, even if it might be the case, and he's loathe to imagine what might occur if people think he was showing off for a personal friend of his task master. It might do something to help his rather tricky reputation, but it could also be devastating.
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She isn't so much older than she was, then. (She is so much older than she was then.)
It's wistful, her fleeting glimpse past him at where he had been climbing a moment ago; she folds it within a warm smile, refocusing on the man in front of her. She is court-bred and court-honed, this honeyed thing, but something else, too. )
I don't doubt we shall have another. You are lately attached to, I think, Scoutmaster Ashara's division? I'm certain she will make excellent use of you.
( never miss an opportunity to hype ya girl )
Your initiative in acquainting yourself with the city is heartening.
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It could be centuries and he would still hear his father's voice. There is no escaping that.
At least she does not seem to be a threat; she is a woman who seeks to free herself from shackles that are invisible to others. Hanzo can empathise even as he says nothing, bowing his head and accepting it for what it is. She is soft and polite and gentle, but there is more - there is always more. He's learned that the hard way as well. ]
I have been. It is where my skills best lie.
[ Not that he spends a great deal of time getting himself involved beyond whatever orders he is given. He's still making a place for himself, as awkwardly done as it is. ]
I must know the city as well as possible. The risk of attack is always present in times of war.
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( It is a statement that settles, weighted; obvious, of course. they are courteous to one another and speak of simple, plain things, but it is a simple and plain thing that is easily said and by some, less easily known. petrana doesn't have the look of a woman who would be so intimately familiar, and yet that familiarity is there not in what she says but what she doesn't—the absence where a creature very like her might prattle on you certainly seem like a fellow who knows about that, Monsieur Shimada, the way gilded things do, fluttering at the elbows of soldiers who strain in the enclosed spaces of garden parties and afternoon teas.
but he does. because he is. and she doesn't comment on it, because she is, too, and some things do not need to be said. )
Would that we were obliged to fight only one war at a time, ( she says, instead, a thread of humour in it; gallows humour, but nevertheless.
would that they could expect to see the attack coming. )
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It has been a long time since he was in Tevinter; he has been unable to go back and pay his respects to Genji, unable to visit his home, what is left of a life he has abandoned. With distance comes clarity and the understanding that respect is not something that can be borne of fear; it must come from proof, from experience.
Here, he is earning his place. People look down on him for his heritage rather than celebrating him for it and it is harder than he had ever imagined... But the challenge is the pleasure of the fight. ]
There would never be such luck. [ He shakes his head. ] But it means that there will be more victories to take.
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He tips his head respectfully, before he whistles to Interceptor, "Well, then we shall not keep you from your nighttime rambles but ... just for future reference? You probably do not want to be hiding out about in the shadows, falling from a roof. That will get you shot by some very paranoid people."
Of which, many he calls his friends.
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Slowly, not letting his eyes slip away from the other man, Hanzo bows.
"I would move before they shot me." His lips twitch. "But I will heed the warning all the same."
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James bowed gravely in turn, before he smirked faintly, then whistled to Interceptor, as they moved in the direction they had originally come. He said over his shoulder, "I highly recommend moving fast, then."