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WHO: Lakshmi, Kitty, and Flint
WHAT: Revolutionary fam
WHEN: Timelines, what are timelines, go away
WHERE: Gallows? sure
NOTES: Things might get pi-radical

[ The trip to and from Tevinter had been eventful, in ways both dreadful and marvelous. The destruction and the death had been sobering and terrible; Corypheus' attack had been devastating, no question of it. People, both good and bad, were dead - and lives were destroyed - and without any question, it was the poor and the downtrodden who'd borne the brunt of that attack. She can't forget that. She can't.

But even so. She'd been itching for something exciting and dangerous, after the past weeks of waiting tables and cooking lunches and making nice with the people here, and there you were. A daring theft from a Venatori home, a flight from a city on fire, a dragon soaring above. She'd wanted understanding, and there it'd been - the whole of Tevinter laid out for her, with its injustices and its troubles so familiar to her. Purloined letters and pages in her pockets, a sense of boldness quickening her step and brightening her eyes - She can't feel good after the tragedy of it, but...

Well. She feels energized. At least.

The problem with that energy is that she doesn't wholly know what to do with it. She's back at her room at the Gallows, now, safe and secure and hungering for neither of those qualities. There's more to be done, after all - counter-attacks to be planned, research to be done, things to be learned, to free the world of Corypheus and his oppression. But she doesn't know what those things are, what the plans are or how she can help. And so she sits on the edge of her bed, dog at her feet, chewing on her fingernail, racking her brain for something to do. ]

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[ She clicks her tongue with a little huff - the way only a mother can when their child is trying to squirm out from a deserved fussing. The surety that it isn't over, no matter how they might want it to be.

Even - wait, did she say Flint? She turns, and the shift in her is obvious towards him. No long stiff, but a sheer amount of curiosity as she looks over him again. Stepping closer to take his hand, grips hard into it. Just as Kitty had said - warriors hands, bitten in with callouses and scars. ]

I know who Captain Flint is, Kitty, though we ought to have words about where you have been meeting famed and feared sea captains to discuss literature.

[ The bite of her tongue, was to call him pirate. But it's - hardly furious. Hardly angry. Rather - more than anything particular untoward - she's fond. My God, Captain Flint. To think she had met Vane himself, not so long ago. ] I am glad to know there are men who stand against Tevinter even from within their number.

[ In spite of her aspirations towards greater maturity, Kitty's voice is abominably teenagerish when she replies: ] I met him in the library. [ And then, later, in a rough-and-rowdy pub, where he'd taken out the back room and where she'd been quite certain for a few moments that he was going to murder her - but he hadn't, and wasn't about to now, so no harm done, really. And even if there had been, it'd be her bloody right to meet him wherever she pleased, wouldn't it.

It's weird, though, how Lakshmi approaches him with respect. Considerable respect. Kitty is momentarily distracted from her flustered annoyance by the sound of Lakshmi's voice; she's certainly never heard that tone before. So, rather than linger on it too long, Kitty says - ]

You had questions for me, you said. I've got some biscuits inside. Better than chatting out here.

[ And she turns around, heading into her room, yanking the chairs around so they can sit and talk. Leaving Lakshmi a few more moments to coo over him if she'd like. Well, Flint's a handsome enough sort, if a bit windbitten, and Lakshmi's hardly an old lady - who knows, maybe she's got a crush. ]

[Funny, the kind of currency a name affords even in places playing at legitimacy like this one. It says more about how false the Inquisition's sense of propriety is than it does about the place surrounding it though. In Kirkwall and the Marches beyond, the name Flint tied to the account may as well be a liability. That anyone inside the Gallows, much less a Rifter, has any respect for it can only mean the island fortress is packed to the gills with reprobates.

Which is neither surprising or untrue. He knew that already, didn't he? Maybe that's why it's so easy to to take her hand and her strange, angled admiration without so much as a batting eyelash. Her assessment isn't wrong thoufh. It warrants some study of the woman, a careful examination of the look of her in the doorway.]

I did. [He says to Kitty, though his attention lingers on Lakshmi that half beat longer.

Eventually Flint reclaims his hand, shifts his focus back to Kitty, and slips inside the room. He holds the door open to Lakshmi, shutting it only once she's clear into the room. Then:]

How did you find Minrathous?

[No sense in subtlety here.]

[ Her nod is polite, the hand dropping back to her side - and well he's probably not wrong, but nor was he right. There was no way of knowing if this man was that same as the grand legend of Captain Flint. Whispered about with somewhere between nightmares and fascination. Of all the men of the age of pirates that boys shouted out in pretend on the streets.

Not that she claimed to know them, but knew men like them - after all, if they did go further into the docks, the places pirates and sailors alike ended up were places all too similar to her Muses. Well, did. Even they knew that the war zone that had become Whitechapel was best left be if they didn't know the right people.

That granted, was neither here nor there to present company. That means the curious look is met with one of her own, gazing him over with a tilt of her head, that reaches up to meet his eyes firmly, directly. Respect she has, but it's without false graces over it. To the point.

Well, at least the stories the being a fine man right. Pity, no scar below an eyepatch to be seen, but then, you could not have everything. He was at least well kept enough to make the conversation unpleasant. ]

Thank-you, [ Is the murmur, but mercifully for Kitty's now strung out dignity, she says nothing else. Just takes her seat, boots scuffing the floor as she crossed ankle over ankle. ]

[ All right. This is better. She's sitting down, facing them, and Lakshmi's sitting too and so Kitty will be able to see if Lakshmi's about to start fussing again and dodge it before the woman's got time to rise from her chair. That's good. And they're talking about the place itself, not how-could-you-put-yourself-at-such-a-risk, and not who-are-you-no-who-are-you. And there's a plate of biscuits at hand - Kitty takes one and passes the others to Lakshmi - and it all feels a lot less embarrassing and dreadful than it had those moments before.

Too bad the report's so dire. ]

Dreadful. [ She lets out a slow breath. ] You'd think - with the war and all - that there'd be some interruption in their wickedness. And maybe there has; I don't know. Maybe they're less active now than they were before. But their slave-markets - they were bustling, and they were all dancing and celebrating and partying. It was all I could do not to try to burn the place down then and there.

[As expected, then.

There are direct questions he might ask in relation to that, but not in a shared room as a plate of biscuits is passed around. Or at least, not in the manner he'd prefer. Better to prompt her into talking and see what can be picked from it.

So he settles into the chair, minding that the sword at his belt doesn't tangle in its limbs with an absent, well-practiced hand. There's an easiness in it, half practiced and part true - because he can't very well be serious in the face of Kitty trying so hard - and part just relief at any opportunity to sit.]

Slaves are a major resource in the North. War is all the more reason for the Imperium to trade in flesh if they wanted to keep both their own borders and what footing they have in Seheron. It's clearly worked out in someone's favor.

[ careful as she takes her biscuit, letting it busy her as they speak. Her particularly small bites and the hand that covers her mouth all polite manners. Because the option is in the end the twist of something foul in herself. Hard, under the skin like a knife. Her brow knitting up and - she'd had a far different time in Tevinter, and it was why she was gone as soon as it was done. Had not stayed in some fool notion that she was better off elsewhere.

Always best leave before someone noticed the dried blood. ]

War always profits the sharp and the cruel, until they're so awash in blood they mistake it for wine. [spat out, unforgiving in it. Yes, one day, they will burn. ] No doubt their war machines are fuelled by such supplies of men and women to certain degrees.

[ A breath out. It's true, isn't it? In this world as much as hers. Even now, back home, tensions with the American colonies are simmering, and they're using that to press men into service, using it to harness them to the military. Here, where they could enslave people and force the same - of course they'd do it. ]

Did you grow up there, Captain Flint? In Minrathous? Was it always like that?

[A glance flickers in Lakshmi's direction, but no more. As far as the Imperium goes - as far as most of the world works -, it isn't an inaccurate assessment. And if there's an argument to be made for particular exceptions--

It's not one that needs having in the moment. He isn't here for some woman's opinion on battle, no matter what kind of warrior she might have been in whatever place she'd come from. That's an earmark for some other hour.]

No. But I knew the city and it sounds like the one you saw is similar. [In pieces.] How tight a leash were you kept on during your stay?

[ Well. That she very determinedly stays quiet on - covering any reason to speak by taking another bite of the biscuit.

Let Kitty answers that one, she didn't need to go airing the Inquisition's dirty laundry when she was not sure if she was at leave to speak on it. ]

They watched us while we were in the palace. Of course. And in the library, too, which - [ She pulls a face. ] Feel like I could have gotten somewhere if I'd been able to pocket a few of those books. But I didn't have enough time to copy down what they wrote there. And I suppose it's probably wrecked now, isn't it, the library.

[ What a dreadful thought. Kitty sighs a moment. Then, forging on: ]

But outside, in the city, we had a little more freedom. [ A hesitation - a brief look to Lakshmi - and then she looks back to Flint. ] You know about what Max asked us to do, I'm sure.

[Her hesitation is a sound one if the way his expression stills for a split second is any indication. But an eye-blink later and it's gone, dismissed with a shifting of his elbows. He plucks a biscuit from the plate.]

I do. [Dismissive. He knows some part of what was discovered and if there are additional pieces worth sorting then he'd rather not discuss the details in present company--

He pauses. Why not? He's spoken next to no breath about the question of Nascere or the man seeing to its occupation. But if something is to be done about it, resentment requires stoking in people with no ties to that place, with no investment in the matter except for where what benefits Nascere's freedom sits in line with what the Inquisition wants, with what the world doesn't yet realize it requires.

He alters course, pivoting abruptly.]

What did you find?

[ It's an interesting reaction. Kitty watches for a sign of anger or of mistrust - after all, she hadn't asked permission to bring Lakshmi in on this, and Flint doesn't know Lakshmi...So it's interesting that there's none of that, after that initial unreadable stillness. Maybe he trusts Kitty's judgment. Or maybe he just has really good self-control. ]

Papers, mostly, which I brought back with me. The others found a little bit more. I did find about fifteen copies of his own book, which seems awfully egotistical. [ She didn't find enough for her to fully understand yet, not without really understanding the man who was their target; she's hoping to draw a little bit more out of Flint on that. And a good way to draw things out of someone? Act like you already know them. And so she says to Lakshmi: ] This man - we went into his house - he's an enemy of Nascere.

He's a venatori magister - an enemy of the Inquisition.

[It's a very selective clarification, said to Lakshmi as much as to Kitty. His attention is hardly rapt; it shifts easily between the two of them.

The significance of the man who now sits on that island, who means to take it and its people in hand is not just a symbol of the end of an infant freedom in Nascere, but to their purpose here as well. Though it might seem distant, an insignificant scrap of land to all but a few invested parties, that place could stand as proof for what they all already secretly know: Corypheus's capture of Minrathous is not a coincidence, and his Agents lay in even the most innocuous of places.

(Pointedly: that the fate of Nascere and places like it is tied inextricably to that of the Inquistion, and vice versa.)

He finds he doesn't mind the absolute clarity on this front. Flint magnanimously snaps the biscuit in half. He eats one side without pause.]

You said you had his papers?

You were busy, Kitty. [ Is the murmur, soft rather than dug in, but more than anything proud, she supposes.

But just like her silence, she stays flat faced in the exchange of information, the looks, meeting both their gazes as it is sought with the same even expression. Like she is glad just to listen, hear it for herself. The biscuit continually nibbled on at any key point where it could even be thought someone might look at her. ]

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