faderift | [OPEN] there is a light that i leave on

Alarm anyone? Perish the thought.

[ It's murmured like a half soft maid, who had no thoughts in her head other than to please those about her. Hardly a truth to anyone who'd met her for more than a minute. Heard her talk at any length. ]

Unfortunately, my business often requires it - A moment. [ She sighs for it, reaching for her crystal. Fussing about with it a moment as she calls to Herian. A quick murmur that she had missed the last ferry back. No, no, it was of no matter, she would find a place for the evening. ] - If you do not mind my company, Captain, I would enjoy yours whilst I find somewhere for the evening.

[ Though with her hands-free, she settles back a little straighter. Fussing a moment with the edge of her veil, letting it sit straight and not get in her way, then to rest her hand at the blade at her hip. ]

[Somewhere out there in the fog there's a boat pulling slowly to shore. But the weather will mean it's very slow ro risk collission with the swarm of shipping in the Kirkwall harbor and by his measurement, he's early anyway. It'll hold for whatever length of time it takes to walk her wherever she means to go. The opportunity isn't worth refusing for the sake of getting to his own bed a few minutes faster; the boat, when it arrives, will wait as it's meant to.

He turns easily away from the moon grey smudge of the harbor and makes a leading gesture with the tip of his head back up from the ferry's slip. Lead on, it says.]

[ She nods the gesture calculated behind her veils to make everything more pointed. A little more obvious, directing. Back up the dock, to the right. The place she usually goes when she's missed the last ferry. Eventually, they're just going to start keeping a room free for her, at this rate.

But once they walk, she holds the veil pinched between her forefingers, striding with the even chime of her anklet. ] Are you out so late, often? [ Mild as summer rain. And then - ] Is that how you met Kitty?

[He falls in step, the clink of his own metal - buckle ends, the idle jangling of the sword at his hip, the tap of a burnished ring on his finger against the pommel of the belt knife - roughly echoing hers as they make their way up the dew slick docks to the slanting stone roadway .]

I met Miss Jones in the Gallows library while looking for a particular book. She has an air of thinking she knows where she is. But I'm sure I don't have to tell you that. [Given the woman's evident attachment.

That he avoids the rest of the question entirely is no doubt entirely circumstantial.]

[ She does not respond, immediately. Knows a dodged question when she hears one. Maybe she means to snap at him, and maybe, another time, another place, she might. Her temper was not ever the easy thing, but why ruin the night when there would be plenty of people to rouse out come morning. At least he did not spit curses at her. ] True, in that. I am quite sure she found herself in that siege with a determined sense that she could tell it to behave itself and it would.

[ The mutter of a tired mother over a child. No use pretending over her attachment for anything other than what it was. Those were not lies she had ever had any skill in, not now or ever.

( Though there was enough evidence to say she had no skill in lying at all, else she might have been able to pick them about her better. If there was anything to her as a diplomat it lay in omitting, keeping details to herself when she wanted too. )

The little fray of the threads at the hem are pinched, worried between the side of her knuckle and thumb. ]

She thinks herself quite grown, and she makes herself do it too quickly. Neither of us I think can do much about that, but - I would ask you have a care of it when it is possible. She deserves to have someone remember it because she will not do it for herself.

[He makes a low noise. It's not so close to a laugh as to be offensive, but there's a definite trace of humor in the sound as they thread their way through the dark. The fog clings from all angles, the lights of their destination blurred smudges in the dark and he is easy in it, evidently as unconcerned by her fretting as he is the range of their visibility.]

If you're worried about her being employing in my vanguard, you can rest easy. [It's a joke, or at least the outline of one - a faded sort of wry sarcasm.

Kitty Jones isn't a child and doesn't care to be treated like one, he could say, and it could be partly true. Because if she is one, it's only only by merit of being allowed to be one - a dangerous prospect in the business they've all apparently set themselves to. Waging a war, even one largely fought being fought with the deployment of paperwork and from this especially insulated vantage, isn't a place for a child.

But that's not the sort of thing you tell a woman twisting threads between her fingers like how Lakshmi does now.]

I would not recommend it, she has yet to learn her way around her blades so well. But I can ask no more. She would not listen no matter what I said, regardless. So I won't ask for what I myself could not assure.

[Says it to the same tone as she might to books, or drawing or studying histories. A thing a girl is to learn and become proficient in. But his words do their work, relax that grip, let's her wrist uncurl. ]

But as long as I can have your word to that - I would also insist you tease her. She seemed very sure that you were above such things, and had no interest in such nonsense. [ it sounds grim on the down turn, but the fixed nature of it shares its own truth, she finds it laughable. That in fact, she's trying not to laugh at all of it. ]

[No laughter, but that tinge of amusement at his edges deepens considerably.]

I won't pass up the opportunity if it presents itself.

[Which isn't fully true either, but at least he means it this time even if it falls between his skills. He's much better at recognizing some tender spot and putting a sharp point against it than he is at anything like what she's asking for.]

Very good. I will hold you to it, of course. She says she.... punches anyone who does it, but she would have a sight of trouble landing the blow on you.

[ She does sound pleased at that. That ever-present mirth in her tone. Not miserable, despite it all. Her questions carry on, formless, poking and prodding in her own way with getting to it directly. Best leave it to when it mattered. ]

I do wonder of course, Kitty left out... certain details about myself when she introduced us. Did she leave any off about you, that you wish to disclose?

It was a fair introduction. [That he is a captain, that he has no affection for the Tevinter Imperium. What else is there to say to nearly a perfect stranger?]

I would point out my ship were the weather or hour more friendly to it. And yourself, serah? I recall our mutual friend describing you as some kind of warrior and completely neglect to mention any of your work for the Inquisition. I wasn't aware I was acquainted with the woman in charge of keeping us in the good favor of the local population.

[There's nothing whatsoever pointed about it. If she wanted to have idle conversation as they make their way along the docks, then she's welcome to it.]

To that at least, I was appointed whilst she was away in Tevinter.

[ She follows along with it, one step in front of the other. Her gaze flicking up to him from time to time, eyes lifting from the path. Then back again when she speaks - directing herself in that simple manner: forward, onwards. ] But she was not wrong, of course, I am a warrior, and yes, I do my best to see our goodwill ensured, and whatever that allows me aside. Limited though that might be. Is there anything you would have seen too on behalf of the local crews?

[ The same offer, really, she gives anyone who might have an issue she does not know about. ]

I don't suppose you have seabound venatori agents to be hunted in this packet, do you?

[He makes a show of patting it under his arm as if searching for some hard edge in the bundle of fabric.]

No, I believe they're well rationed and accounted for. Only prone to the same disease all sailors in harbor suffer from. [And before she can jump to something venereal (though, let's be candid, that isn't off the table completely), he clarifies:] Restlessness. But I'll let you know should anything occur to me.

[There are things he could ask for now, in this moment. But better, he thinks, to be understood as independent for the time being, as permanent as any other trade crew in these waters.]

[ She lifts a hand to politely cover her laughter. Her eyes dropping away momentarily. This is a pleasant sort of fiction. Walking with a dangerous sea captain through the worst parts of the city like neither of them had too much of a care. ]

Is not restlessness the true disease of all sailors and soldiers alike? They do cause a mess. [ Her eyebrow lifts, her head tilts, come now, give her dues in minding. ] Though I am sure the feared, mighty and dashing Captain Flint keeps his crew completely in line and I need not worry over much.

[He doesn't say Is that what's being said? Instead, he gives her a brief sidelong glance - wry, line of his mouth quirking - and settles on:]

You shouldn't worry at all.

[All mild good humor as they cut their way toward up through the fog.]

[ her hand lifts, presses over her heart and bows her head. ]

You set my foolish heart at ease, Captain.

[ Barely kept from laughter - quick as she was to it. Flicking her fingers at him to wave him on in their walk. Taking the next corner by lead to wind them further up the street to the light of a lantern. ]

Edited (wroooong icon) 2018-10-31 15:35 (UTC)

[A week from now - a month or more if they're exceptionally lucky -, he will find himself in her office asking for some favor or to make some specified arrangement on his behalf. He knows it. This is the commerce of keeping twenty odd men on a ship happy (or not miserable) in its harbor. But better to save that offer for the time being and plan to use it when he actually needs it - and, Maker willing, after he's had some time to generate some additional good will to support it. 'I've never asked you for anything, but I'm asking now' is always a compelling argument to have in the pocket.

So, easy good humor tonight and favors on some other tomorrow.]

Pleased to hear it. [For good measure:] The same naturally applies in reverse - should you need assistance in some matter or another, I'd hear it.

[Theoretically speaking.]

[ Her answer is to hum, smoothing her fingers against the material like oh - she's thinking. Perhaps, maybe. The faint chime of bangles against bangles. The cool night and its half echoes. ]

No, not at the moment. [ And there is the weight of it, where his gambit will always pay out. Her line of work, as it stands, is always in need of favours. There is always someone who needs help, always something that needs doing, and it needed to be done yesterday. ] Unless you know of a group of smiths and carpenters who are also at times, combat ready, that don't mind working in places like the alienage, and can be called out of bed at a moment's notice and can assure me that they won't run their tongues against Dwarf, Elf, Quanari or Mage.

[ Only the half impossible. Is what she means. ]

[Look at the pair of them, telling funny jokes. He huffs out a low noise - a humming chuckle - as they make their way through the fog ridden street. Every few paces some glow of a lantern meanders out of the dark to touch the night, but at last they seem to be making their way toward some specific lamp murmuring through the dark. A doorway is materializing now with it--]

You might have better luck pulling down the moon. But I'll pass along a recommendation should I come across such able hands.

[ True enough, it takes form. An unassuming little door, weather-beaten with no more than the lantern above it to announce it was there really at all. Hardly anything nefarious. Just a room that had been to let, and had the space she needed.

She fishes rather less ladylike to the top of her bodice as they talk, tugging out the key from where she hides it below her clothes. Best not make it easy for any thief, ignoring what it might say about her that she does such a thing as she holds it between her fingers. ]

I would settle if they can simply mind their manners for the short term. [ A mournful sigh, turning away from him as she puts the key to lock - the damn thing old and always stuck, and with it she shoves with her shoulder into the wood to make it move with a faint huff of breath before it finally swings open. Gesturing with a hand for him to follow her up the small, dinky little staircase that took a sudden sharp left as it went up. ] Something to drink for your trouble, Captain?

[ It's not an illicit offer, or despite the teasing back and forth - something with an undertone, just that he had carried all that material for her, after all, and she was raised with manners. ]

Would that I could. [This said even as he follows her up the narrow, creaking staircase at her behest.] But I've some business I should see to.

[What business needs doing in the middle of the night? Plenty. But more to the point, there will be a boat waiting for him along the docks and he'd rather not leave those men there for long. He'd return to find it abandoned in favor of the taverns and whatever cheap brothel was nearest.]

Another time, maybe.

[ She nods, pity that it would be a thing to see what kind of man he'd unravel to be as the conversation went. How honest, how much the stories would line up, whether there was sense to placing her skills in his hand.

But perhaps it's enough that it's this, as they come to the little door at the top of the stairs. Taking her key out from where it's hidden in her top, ( a discrete digging around as she steps in front of him to get it out ). Once it's open she steps through and gives him a little room to come up to the landing. ]

Another time, then. [ Yes, maybe it is enough. Her smiles picks at the corner of her mouth and on whimsy, or great act so far: she lifts her hands to place them palm to palm, bowing her head over them. Her eyes lowering with the gesture, the gold on her brow swaying briefly from the flat decorate disk.

Then she drops, bending at the knees, and touches the ground briefly beside his foot with outstretched fingers. ] Blessings for your trip back. [ An explanation for brief action before she rises back up. Moving on past how strange it might be to reach for her package once more. ]

[There are strange things done all over the world. He doesn't question it, and instead simply passes back the packet out from under his arm.]

Enjoy what's left of your evening.

[OPEN] there is a light that i leave on

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wow thanks for nothing gmail

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