faderift | (no subject)

WHO: Twisted Fate & OPEN
WHAT: A return to Skyhold.
WHEN: Roughly around the 10th or so of Haring
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Different prompts inside! (Lyrium not included) If none suit you, feel free to make your own prompt!

♠ TAVERN
It seemed a good of a time as any to be shitfaced.

Frankly, he's not sure what he expected by creeping around tunnels under what remained of the Temple of Andraste. He knew it wasn't going to be overly pleasant, but he'd been anticipating no more than a romp around ruins, gutted remains, and little to do more than sketch out a few maps and send them off to the advisors, assuming it would do them any good.

Spirits aren't always bad, but hell if they aren't a pain in the ass sometimes.

So, Twisted Fate is in his more preferred environment, ordering another drink for himself as he loathingly broods, a hobby he'd never enjoyed. There are more entertaining things to be doing, but this will do for now.

Will you or won't you join him?

♠ COURTYARD
"Ladies and gentlemen, what you're about to behold is magic in a way you've not quite experienced before. Transmutation! What you see here in my hand is a jar, fits in my hand quite nicely. Freshly churned butter! What I will be doing is transforming this simple item into something else."

Twisted Fate shrugs off his coat, hanging it on a branch nearby before he's holding out the jar. Approaching one of the on-lookers, he winks at her and holds out his hand.

"Does the lady have a handkerchief I could borrow? Thank you." He accepts the handkerchief, stepping back as he holds up the jar.

"Ordinary handkerchief. Nothing unusual about it. And yet..." After draping the cloth over the jar, he tugs it away quickly to reveal--

A tiny nug in his hand.

"And there you have it! Off you go." Fate crouches down and releases the little thing before returning the handkerchief to the lady. "Much appreciated. Thank you, thank you -- I'm here, well, as long as until they send me off again."

♠ GARDEN
In Twisted Fate's left hand are papers, and he's looking distant and thoughtful as he reads them over. A letter, perhaps. Difficult to say, but he seems very intent as he looks over the contents.

In his other hand, an arrowhead, being rubbed by a thumb.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's obvious the magic isn't real, and he knows it -- but that's part of the entertainment. Is knowing that there's a trick, but the secret will remain unshared. Really, her delight is an excellent payoff to the performance.

Twisted Fate removes his hat and gives a little boy. "You learn a lot of things traveling, and I found I had a knack for this sort of thing. Suppose I've always been a bit theatrical." He grins at her. "Twisted Fate is the name. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with right now?"

The girl gasps and gives him another swift and enthusiastic round of applause. "I'm so impressed!" Wait. "Oh! That's not my name, though. That's just how I'm feeling. My name's Alfsigr."

Her hands are clasped together as she leans forward and peers around after where the nug ran off to, curious to catch sight of it again. She isn't distracted for long though, turning her attention back to him. It's rude to ignore someone you're in conversation with! "I'm not nearly so good at flashy stuff."

The delight that she exudes is absolutely endearing. It makes him smile a little more genuinely before he's tipping his hat to her. "Alfsigir, the pleasure is all mine."

He watches the way she looks around, and already suspects what she is seeking. An amused look forms on his face before he's offering his arm out to her. "It takes quite a bit of practice to know your audience. What is it that you normally do, madame?"

The offered arm is taken after only the barest moment of consideration. It would be rude not to.

Do?" Alfsigr blinks several times, not quite understanding. "Oh, I'm nobody special. I... I'm from the Circle. I study, mostly, or assist the other mages."

"Why would you ever say that's nothing special?" he wonders genuinely, gently leading her through the courtyard as he keeps his eyes peeled. She seemed enamored with the nug, so he might as well see if he can find the little scamp.

"We all come from different walks of life. I think being able to assist is respectable, and here I am putting on a little performance to the amusement of others -- and that's not even my main profession."

"Well, I'm not part of the Council, and I've never been to the Orlesian court. I've never been an advisor on magical matters." The sliver of a grin that her mouth slices across her face seems almost contrarian to her personality thus far. "And I can't turn butter into nugs."

Then it all slips back into wide-eyed curiosity. "What's your main profession?"

"I think that just makes you smart. Politics is a messy affair, and one would be much happier to not be part of it. And Orlesian court is as fancy as you'd expect, and three times as stressful; still politics, as ever, and that is a chore when it should be a damned party." He pauses, then chuckles. "But you've got me there. Butter to nugs is a special trick, after all."

He tilts his head. "I do many things, but I'm an escape artist. I suppose it should be fortunate those services are not often asked for, but there hasn't been a place I couldn't escape from yet."

Alfsigr blinks, her mouth pulling into a small frown. "I thought all the Orlesians did was throw parties. Parties where people poison each other's wine, sure, but that's still a party, right?" She hasn't been to many parties, clearly.

"An escape artist? That sounds exciting!"

"Well, certainly, among other things. You slightest bit of behavior all plays into the Game. The way you dress, the way you blink, what time you come to the ballroom; a lot of work, in my opinion. Fun to watch, less fun to be part of." He pauses, then adds wryly, "The pastries are lovely, though."

He chuckles. "Sometimes, far too exciting. I've escape several dungeons and prisons, and evaded capture on more than one occasion for sure. Have to learn to be on your feet out there. Never been part of a Circle myself. Suppose that's safer, until the rebellion? I've only heard stories."

So that sounds a little less like a fairy story and more like hell, but it certainly doesn't sound dull. And Lady Vivienne looks so glamorous.

"Plenty of people would have liked to be anywhere but the tower," Alfsigr admits. There's no point denying it. "I liked it there, though. People are afraid of magic. I'd rather be in the Circle with people who understand me than surrounded by fear." Not that there wasn't plenty of fear to go around the Circles, too.

"What did you do to wind up in prison?" Could it be so bad? Twisted Fate seems rather nice, and the Inquisition wouldn't let anyone too terrible among their ranks, right?

For a moment, he's quiet as he scans the courtyard. Whatever catches his eye seems enough to guide her towards his goal. He reaches into his pocket.

"I can see the appeal. Somewhere in a place that people at least understand you," he muses, sounded thoughtful. The life of a Circle would never work for him, not for his nature, but he can see why it would work for some.

Twisted Fate chuckles and grins at her wryly. "Several reasons I could have. Usually because I took something from a nobleman. Maybe his knickers, or his mistress. Depends on the day, really. I promise I've been mostly good since I've joined the Inquisition, though."

In Alfsigr's (incredibly limited) experience, human nobles tend to be petty creatures who like to crush those they consider lesser beneath their boots. She's seen the disowned children of noble families left wailing in the tower because of their gifts. But they still have such beautiful stories written about their love and their lives.

All the same, it's not a stretch for her to believe that a nobleman would have someone like him jailed for looking at him sideways. "Why would you steal from someone like that?" It's an honest question, rather than an accusation.

The question makes him tilt his head. "Why? Well, why not? They have more than enough to provide for themselves, and typically they wouldn't think twice to give anything of theirs away to someone who needs it. Nobility, for the most part, needs to remember that the world does not revolve around them."

He shrugs. "And I'm good at it. I like doing things I'm good at."

Alfsigr's silence in the wake of his explanation is thoughtful rather than judgmental. "I suppose if it was me, I would be too afraid to chance the wrath of someone powerful like that." Which says quite a bit about her and where she perceives "her place" to be, really.

"There aren't a lot of good applications for the things I'm good at..." She tilts her head, considering. "But I can weave flowers into crowns, and people seem to enjoy that!" Ever the optimist, this one.