faderift | Oh, you're acting your thin disguise

WHO: Beleth and YOU.
WHAT: Beleth is back from the Fallow Mire, trying to deal with some things, trying to ignore other things.
WHEN: Before people go off on their war table missions
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Nothing so far, will edit if necessary.

Tavern

Beleth has made the decision that she needs to have copious amounts of alcohol before attempting to take on the confrontation that she has planned. Liquid courage, right? So, she takes a seat in the tavern, keeping her eyes glued to the bar, and works her way through a pint. It occurs to her, as she orders another one, that she has been doing an incredible amount of drinking lately. Far more than she had before she'd made her way to Skyhold with her clan.

Well, they were her clan, for now. Would they still call her clanmate, when those who would leave the clan finally admitted it? Would she call them clanmate? She knew it was a risk--one of the reasons she had come to Skyhold, after all, was hoping that she'd be able to persuade them otherwise. But she saw some of them, intermingling with the humans, so quick to adapt to the humans and their culture that they should just remove their vallaslin and nock their ears already.

Shit. She'd been trying to avoid thinking about what she was drinking for. And now she just wanted to drink more. She starts on the second pint with relish.

Stables

"I think you're my favorite living creature in this place."

The wild hart took this declaration in stride, chewing on the grass in its trough. Beleth followed up her statement with a laugh, shifting in her position on the side of his stall. The hart doesn't seem worried, even as Beleth reaches up and pets his neck.

"Do you have a name? I'm going to name you. How do you feel about Da'Assan? Little Arrow. For someone quick, and fleet of foot."

The hart snorts in reply, chewing contently.

"I'm taking that as agreement."

Library

Anyone who had been in the kitchen in the last few days might have heard grumbling from the cook about loaves of bread going mysteriously missing, with no one around to blame it on. A possible bread-obsessed ghost haunting Skyhold? Spooky.

Meanwhile, in the library, Beleth is enjoying a warm loaf of bread, and appreciating the fruits of having set up a little camp right above the rear entrance of the kitchen. Curled up in a chair in little alcove, she chews on the bread, while flipping through a book by some guy named Genitivi, documenting various parts of the world she'd never even heard of.

If she was going to learn how to sweet talk people, she had to expand her knowledge of the world in general. Especially if she met anyone from these particular places. Zevran would be pretty pleased, she thinks.

One thing she'd already discovered--There had been an Inquisition before this one. And quite frankly...she found what Genitivi had to say about them pretty sketchy. It made her worry--the Inquisition was supposed to be saving the world from Corypheus. Not leading another exalted march. Just what were the Inquisiton's intentions, after Corypheus?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

This is how it ends, Beleth thought, eyes wide, and leaning as far away from Isabela as she could without toppling over on her stool. She had no idea what just happened, this entire meeting did a 180 degree turn and her mind is still trying to play catch up as Isabela talks about various body parts and someone attempting to eat her oh dear Creators why. Why this.

She tried to will down the fervent blush that heated up her cheeks, and when that didn't work, slowly reached for her mug and took a long sip of ale. Okay. Words, next. Absolutely no words came to her mind, unless 'why' would manage to cover everything.

"I. Don't want to flaunt anything. Um. If that's okay." She returned the mug to the bar, staring at it for a moment as she tried to even think of what she could say. "If we can do that without any flaunting...? Or. eating. Or comparing me to food. Please."

"And you just got your first lesson in how to misdirect. Put your target on the defensive, keep them off-balance, and they're in no position to stop you. At least, not without falling on their asses," the pirate said breezily.

"But really, no, don't think your feminine charms aren't weapons, because they are. If you know how to use them properly."

"I--" Beleth needed a moment, here. That was a misdirect. Well. It certainly worked. "Can you do that without the...trying to be. Um." What was a polite word? "Immodest?" Nailed it. "Like--Talk about various body parts and what not."

She quickly held her hands up, not wanting to actually insult the terrifying woman. "Not that there's anything wrong with that. Or, um. Using. Feminine charms. I just--don't usually use my, ah. Feminine charms. Like that. There isn't...much to use, in that manner." Beleth didn't have much going on in the curves department--something she didn't particularly mind, but she knew that humans tended to put a lot of stock in that. "I can use charms, but they're usually more. Modest." Batting your eyelashes, giving people big doe eyes and trying to look small and cute. That's what she was good at.

"The point of misdirection is to set your target up so what they expect isn't what you're going to do. Don't let them get too comfortable. Use their insecurities against them. For me, I know they're looking anyway, so might as well use it to my advantage," Isabela explained.

"But it is important to know how to read people to misdirect them well. You've got to be able to hone in on whatever buttons you want to push. Some are more obvious than others."

That didn't really answer her question--Or did it? Beleth mulled over what Isabela had said for a little bit, trying to puzzle out if making other people uncomfortable necessarily meant that she had to be uncomfortable. She's pretty sure no one's going to be oogling her, though, so she decides that she'll be fine.

Though Beleth can't help but think that less people would be looking at Isabela and her...assets, if they weren't out on display for all the world to see.

"I'm alright at reading people. Zevran is helping me get better at it, though." Is what she actually said, drumming her fingers on the bar thoughtfully. "Although...I don't usually try to hone in on what makes them uncomfortable. I could try paying more attention, if that's what, ah. Misdirects them." It wasn't a terribly bad idea, if she could use it just right--usually, she was trying to butter people up, but if you could use their insecurities against them in a friendly way...

She gives a small nod as she thinks it over. "Especially if they're proud."

"Well, there's nothing quite like a good fight after you've made a lot of people angry with you," Isabela laughed.

Her eyes glittered with something almost like malice.
"Oh, you have no idea how easy it is to mess with those who are too proud for their own good."

Oh, you're acting your thin disguise

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