altusimperius (
altusimperius) wrote in
faderift2018-06-20 12:45 pm
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[open] Te Vene or Not Te Vene
WHO: Benedict and you
WHAT: Learn how not to get immediately killed in Tevinter
WHEN: Justinian
WHERE: the Gallows library
NOTES: will update as needed
WHAT: Learn how not to get immediately killed in Tevinter
WHEN: Justinian
WHERE: the Gallows library
NOTES: will update as needed
In the summer evenings, Benedict can be found holding court in the library, sitting at a table stacked with books and usually bearing a glass of wine or tea. Unless occupied by his pupils, he's often doodling listlessly on a sheet of parchment, quite a lot of them having amassed around him over the idle hours.
As advertised in his crystal announcement, he's here to teach the language and customs of the Tevinter Imperium, at least enough to make a successful tourist or, Maker forbid, prisoner.
Listening in the background
So she sat at her back table, with her sketch pad, and worked on various drawings of him holding court, or even just doodling.
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"I've read the basic history of the Imperium - the outlines mostly - but I haven't had a chance to delve too deeply. There's far too much about this world that I don't know - any particular advice? Anything I can do as a qunari to avoid being instantly killed? Or should I just avoid the Imperium entirely?"
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He tries not to look nervous as he taps his quill on the desk. "Don't go," he confirms, warily. A Qunari and a rifter stands very little chance, as he sees it.
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His lips spread in a smile, exposing a row of white teeth, "I trust that won't be too much trouble?"
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He leans back slightly, trying to play cool, but he's never been good at concealing nervousness. "What do you already know," he asks, taking his usual tack. It's a good way to guide the conversation. Control it.
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"That they are not over-fond of some types. Broad strokes."
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gallows library
"You said on the crystal you would offer tutoring in Tevinter's culture? I'd like to learn." Though, how long this would take, he didn't know.
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"All right," he says, setting his book aside and clasping his hands beneath his chin on the desk, "first, tell me what you already know."
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"About Tevinter? Next to nothing. I know that Mages are the ruling class, as opposed to the rest of Thedas. That's about it."
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The was a certain glee to it, after so many years spent hiding, to being herself and not giving a damn for more than that over it.
Though since this was not half so exposed as the street, she pushes her veil back to show herself once she's in his company. Politely murmuring in greeting - brief explanation why she's here: "You are the teacher that can tell me about Tevinter?"
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"Yes, that's me," he replies when Lakshmi speaks, snapping out of his reverie, and he stands to offer his hand in greeting. "Benedict, of House Artemaeus."
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"Queen Lakshmi Bai, of Jhansi." There's a quirk there, quite sure at least half of that means absolutely nothing at all to him.
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"Jhansi?" he asks, settling down again, getting comfortable. "Another world?"
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She settles, arranging her skirts. Smoothing through the delicate folds that were where the sare began its draped before sweeping up and around and over her shoulders. "It is not very much like this place." That much she can easily say, with a softer sigh. "She is desert and bare earth."
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"So, destruction of the natural order." From the crystal conversation. Gareth leans forward, like he’s got a secret mage conspiracy to get into, but his easy smile lends to it all being one big joke. "If I went to Tevinter, could I just show up like ‘Hey, I’m a mage, and I’m ready to boss everyone around’, or would I need to prove it? It there a ladder of bossing people around that I’d have to work up?"
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But now the man's question causes a furrowing of Bene's eyebrows, and he folds his hands under his chin as he leans forward slightly, a wry and critical expression on his handsome face. "You'll have to be born to the right family, for one," he muses, "or kill a lot of people, but I don't recommend it. I'm one of them, after all."
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"Fine," Gareth finally allows. "I guess I'll skip the killing, just this once. But only because you're cute." He picks up a book, starting to leaf through it. "And all those other people should write you thank you notes for preventing their deaths with your face."
Like Benedict needs more of an ego boost. But when has Gareth ever worried about what was necessary, or a good idea.
"Ah, well. The point is to change how things are done down here, anyway. Which I can't do if I'm too busy ruling from my throne of dead bodies."
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"As I would hope Kirkwall has already learned, dead bodies do not a new system make. Really just... more shouting and more violence." Not that he would mind if all the Templars were to suddenly drop dead.
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"Kirkwall--it was different from the Mage Templar War. The war was the mage army united, using violence to tear down the violence the Chantry had built up. Kirkwall was...a mistake." A frown dances across his face as he glances to the side, busy with his thoughts. Maybe, one day, he'll manage to sit down and sort through his assortment of feelings on the subject, and come to some kind of peace with the events.
But that's not about to happen while he's chatting it up with this nerd.
"Which means, I suppose, I won't be starting any wars in Tevinter. Which is for the best, I hear your food is terrible." They use things like SPICES and SEASONING, which are weird and gross.
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It's not all that long after Benedict hangs up on Myr that the elf appears in the library, a blandly pleasant expression on his face. He'd be considerably sneakier if he didn't have to ask where the other mage is holding court--but then the point's not to be sneaky, it's to ask Benedict a question in a setting where running away isn't as easy. Accordingly he does nothing to disguise his straight-line approach to the younger man's table, going so far as to stop politely nearby and clear his throat to announce himself.
Hi.
"A moment of your time, Benedict?"
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....right??
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Myr wrestles down a sigh--and, in fact, any sign of annoyance with Benedict--and leans against his staff. "If Benedict were here," he begins lightly, mustering something like his usual cheer, "I'd tell him that I'm not going to bite his head off over whatever those brands mean. But if they are something that endangers those templars, and it comes out after they're hurt or killed that he could have warned them, he's going to be in a really tricky place with the Inquisition."
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So he just sits there, and is very careful not to breathe too loudly, staring at Myr and hoping he'll go away. Totally invisible. It's the perfect plan.
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