faderift | set your heart against the scales, keep your head above the tide

( This can probably be any time in the month. Odds are that by a couple weeks in her office will be fully set up, but in the two weeks before there might be times where it's looking a little like a work in progress - the furniture is mostly there from early on, but trying to pull together other necessary items can take a little more time.

In the corner near the desk there is a basket lined with sheepskin, which may or may not have a corgi sleeping in it.

Herian for her part, can be assumed to be here at most times, around appointments, meetings, and training... or if Cosima has pulled her out to ensure something resembling a healthy work/life balance, or as much as is possible when serving the Inquisition in such a role.

She may be leaning over a map, going through papers, rumpling a corgi pup's face, lighting candles to allow more light as night descends, or just generally being intense and worky. )

( she makes sure to avoid the more important time of day before approaching herian's new office. it's a new routine that saoirse will have to get used to in her mornings and evenings when visiting her friend, more familiar and unfamiliar corridors to memorize. carefully, she peeks in through a small opening in the door before deciding to step further inside. )

I hope you are not too busy for a friend, Herian. ( she says before a teasing grin blossoms across her face and she takes her hand (the one not holding a basket) and pulls her skirt out slightly, dipping her head. ) I'm sorry-- Ambassador

( Herian looks up from the sea of paperwork she is trying to navigate. Truthfully it looks very tidy, organised, but it is still a number of documents detailing important information, and she feels just faint trepidation on how to grasp all of this, how to do this job to the best of her ability and ensure that is still good enough.

She eases at the sight of her friend. )

I beg of you, do not. I am not entirely certain this appointment was not an administrative error.

Quite the error on the Inquisition's part if so but I cannot imagine that is the case. In fact, I imagine it was made in the best of interests.

( quietly, she shuts the door behind her and approaches with a warm smile. ) It suits you... the look of an Ambassador.

( With a slightly dramatic huff of breath, Herian flops back into her chair. Or, she does that by Herian standards, which means her posture is just slightly less perfect.

Franklin, on the other hand, scurries forward expectantly. The little blue merle corgi is made up of patches of black and tan, with ears and paws and a tail that all seem to have been designed for a much larger dog. Either he has yet to grow into them, or he may never. Regardless of his haplessness, Herian's acquisition from the Nevarra mission which was meant to be temporary has proven anything but, and he trots over to Saoirse for some love and affection. )

Thank you. ( Although she is still like "????" on the inside, very much. ) I am, however, aware that I am not amongst the likeable personalities of the Inquisition. Someone with... charm might have fared better.

[ Being given the offer makes it so that Six feels comfortable making her way up to the diplomacy offices, a small mabari puppy wandering around at her heels. He's smart enough to have learned 'sit', 'stay' and 'heel' quickly enough, with a good set of bribery, and Six hopes that means that he won't make a nuisance of himself in the presence of someone new. Thankfully, he's come with a name now, one that Six thinks must come hand in hand with a very good sense of humour.

She hesitates at the door, seeing how intense and determined the woman before he looks, but it's impressive. It's something that Six recognises in herself; she'd be something similar, were she given any position of power. She had never been a captain or leader of men, but she's sure she comes across just as stern as she had before. ]

Knight-Enchanter?

( She has no particular reason to know Six by sight, and it takes a moment for the link between the exchange of messages and the stranger presently in her doorway to click. It is the mabari pup trailing at her side that allows the connection to be made, and her eyebrows raise a little. )

I am Herian Amsel, yes.

( Calling herself "Ambassador" still felt strange. "Knight-Enchanter" was the title she had fought for and earned with years of training and dedication. She was not yet sure she had done sufficient work to earn the title Ambassador. )

You are Six, I presume? Please come in.

( She moves around her desk, and gestures to a round table in another part of the room, a vase of wildflowers in its centre. It is designed for many more people than two, but this might feel more conversational than sitting at her desk.

As she draws closer to the table, she holds out her hand in offering. ) Well met.

( Then, a quiet huff-bark, and a head with big ears, one brown eye and one blue, and an exceptionally dopey expression pops up from a basket in the far corner of the room. ) — And that is Franklin.

[ She is aware she is not yet known in the Inquisition - and if she is it will soon become simply due to her relationship to Adalia rather than anything she herself has done. Six is aware that admitting that she is the sister of someone who is dedicated to this place will get her name spread, but she doesn't have the strength to care. ]

A pleasure to meet you.

[ The mabari at her heel is desperate to run over and greet the other dog, but he knows his mistress well enough to recognise that 'heel' means heel. Six isn't strict, particularly, but she has set high expectations for her mabari, the kind that she assumes will be kept.

Moving over, Six shifts and steps across, her puppy at her heels. She sits down easily enough and the dog beside her sits as well, peeing over at the other dog, tail wagging a mile a minute before Six sighs. ]

This is... Two. [ She glances down at her dog, wry, before she reaches to shake the other woman's hand with no hesitation. ] Thank you for allowing me to have some of your time.

And you.

( Franklin, realising there is another dog in his office, hops out of his basket and begins to trot over. His steps are more like a skipping trot, tail wagging as he moves over. Herian glances to Franklin, murmurs him an instruction, and he looks at her as he sits, although he is also struggling with his desire to play. He's certainly no mabari, but he is getting closer to one year old, and she tries to train him as much as she indulges him.

Whether or not he manages to resist when his tail is wagging so intensely is another matter completely. In fact, he's already looking between Herian and Two.

And as for Herian, she is a little curious about the apparent naming convention that might be in play, but she refrains from asking - she suspects it could be rude. Instead, once they've released each others hand, she gestures to the seats at the round table, and goes to claim a seat. )

It is no trouble at all. Where would you like to begin?

[ Six watches Two for a long, drawn out moment, almost amused at how well her mabari is keeping himself to himself before she finally relents and nods her head. It's enough to allow the puppy to waddle forward a little, lifting his head and staring at Franklin with an intensity that shows just how desperately curious he is. It's the first time he's seen another dog other than his litter, so he's bound to be interested.

It's a little strange, she thinks, to be sitting in a woman's room ready to talk about religion, but it had been offered to her. Six's entanglement with religious worship isn't as devout as others might expect or want from her; she works for Sarenrae and prays to her, spreads her message and fights on her behalf, but there are few churches and temples. She does not wear the garb of a Sister, she does not dress as Priestess. She worships, but it is distant to what she sees here.

At the heart of it... It is awkward. Six doesn't know her place here, not when her belief - knowing her God is real, having spoken to her, felt her, known her - is so different from what she sees here. ]

Lady Morrigan suggested that you might be the best tutor when it comes to learning of Andraste and the Maker. I know little of it, other than it exists and they have not been heard in Thedas for a very long time.

( There is a long pause as she thinks. Conveniently, Franklin is entertaining enough that she hopes he draws some of the attention from her contemplation. He trots forwards, and bows down, woofing quietly before bounding forward and booping Two with his nose before bounding away and trying to get Two to chase him.

Maker preserve her (office). )

I think there are those who might object to the assertion that Andraste and the Maker have not been heard in Thedas for a long time. The Maker's hand in his creation I think is felt day to day; the shape of the land and the run of the rivers. I cannot speak for the experience of others, nor the truth of their words, but there are those who say they have received messages and visions from the Maker. There are times when I pray where I do not feel alone. To me, that means... that we are still in the Maker's sight and Andraste's spirit is with us, even as the Maker remains removed.

( A quiet sigh. ) Know you of Andraste and what compelled the Maker to turn away from his creation?

[ Six allows her the moment - it's not as if she can do or say anything in the meantime and she understands how important words of religion might be. She had not felt it before her Oath, but when Sarenrae had come into her life... It had taken her until then to understand. To know. ]

I meant it with no offence, only that my God speaks to me with her voice, not with her actions. [ There are so many people who say that the Maker is gone from this world, with what little she has heard and read, and others that proclaim themselves the benefactor of miracles. Six doesn't know what to believe and there is no one for her to pray to in order to get that knowledge.

Still, praying to feel less alone? She certainly understands that. ]

I know that she was killed and that the people of this world think they need forgiveness for sins for their Maker to return to them completely.

[ Aro appears a couple of days after their conversation. He's a little more nervous about doing this in person, in part because he's never actually been in person with Herian before, but in part because doing anything official with the Inquisition makes him nervous. It exacerbates his general urge to have nothing to do with any of this.

But for now, he quiets that urge. Of all the Inquisition members he's met so far, he trusts Herian. She'd been very honest with him about her past, and he doesn't think everyone would have done that. It makes him feel better about her than most.

He knocks at her door, and peeks inside. He's tall, very pale-haired, and very pale generally, in fact. His ears have noticeable points, made evident when he removes his hat as he enters the room. His clothes are layer upon layer. He looks like he's about to go on a journey, but he's not. He just wishes he was. ]

Hello? Ambassador Herian. It's Aro.

( She looks up at the sound of the knock and the door opening. )

Aro, hello.

( Pushing herself up, Herian nods her head respectfully, and gestures to a round table with chairs, rather than to her desk. )

Please, how can I assist you? ( She moves across to it as well, and a tray of tea that was set down only recently, but neglected by Herian as she worked. )

[ He comes in, picking one of the chairs at random and sitting in it. This is okay, right? They all look the same. Round tables don't offer any sense of seniority, which actually Aro appreciates. Hopefully there's no political undertone to any of it that he's missed. ]

Thank you. I just came to talk more about the rifter negotiations, if that…suits you.

[ He has a moment of consideration over whether to take his cape off, and then he stands to do so. He drapes it over his chair, and then gives it a critical look as if he's not sure whether that was the right thing to do. Oh, just ignore it. Herian's nice. He needs to stop worrying about procedure.

He folds his hands on the table. ]

I can come back, though, if you're too busy to…?

Edited 2018-07-05 00:39 (UTC)

No, please. Be at ease.

( Her smile is slight, fleeting, but sincere. She is still learning how to do this, how to master the performative aspects of this. As she speaks, she moves to the round table. In the centre of the table there sits a vase with wild flowers rising from it. )

I would be very glad to hear your thoughts. There is much to be considered, and for all that I might try, I cannot pretend that I will think of all.

[ The flowers are nice, Aro thinks. They make the room seem a little less official. Of course, then it occurs to him that that's probably what they're there for, which makes it seem more official again, and--

He smiles. They just need to start talking. ]

All I can do is tell you what I'm worried about. If I had a phylactery, anyone who held it would have power over me. That could mean the Chantry, but it could mean Corypheus, too, and I can't imagine why they'd want us to be vulnerable like that. There is no Circle anymore, so why create new phylacteries for us? And…and we're not from this world, obviously.

[ He looks up, fingers agitating at the table. ]

What would happen if we left. Would the phylacteries still have a hold on us even if we weren't here to do anything about them? If Corypheus had them, would that let his influence spread even to other worlds?

set your heart against the scales, keep your head above the tide

OPEN; Diplomacy office

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sorry sorry sorry, I was having a real tag struggle for a stretch

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