faderift | Player Plot | From Tevinter, With Love

WHO: Alexandrie, Benedict, Byerly, Fifi, Hanzo, Isaac, Loki, Merrill, Romain, Thor
WHAT: A diplomatic dinner and mysterious murder most foul
WHEN: Mid-Harvestmere
WHERE: the Asgard estate in Hightown
NOTES: OOC Poast, CW: rich people being garbage, elf related racism, other updates to come as they apply!

In the wake of the events in Minrathous, there has been a great deal of reshuffling of power and alliances both within the Imperium and between those within it and the surrounding powers. A particularly well-off Laetan merchant by the name of Flavius Aurelius is one such alliance shuffler. He has holdings in the south along the border and a number of cross-country trading caravans and has made overtures of aid in getting Inquisition personnel into (and around) the country in exchange for protection against having his lands occupied and used to do the precise opposite of what he's offering.

This is a rather good deal for the Inquisition, especially since it involves more risk on his part than theirs, and so all attempts are to be made to convince him that he'll be a valued member of the cause. By his countrymen in particular, who may enjoy particular success in doing so for a variety of reasons. Thus, the Tevene contingent of the Inquisition—as well as diplomatic representatives from Ferelden, Orlais, and a wayward Dalish elf—find themselves in the position of doing this due diligence, in the hopes that this will make things go smoothly—better than smoothly if possible—at the meeting established for the next day to discuss terms.

What better way than a small dinner party?

[ ooc: toplevels will be added beneath as they happen! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It takes Benedict a little while to finally shake Flavius (so revoltingly surnamed with his own father's given name), and it's with a sneer of distaste that he steps over to Hanzo, as much for cover as for anything else. "You look the part," he says, in a tone that suggests he is either playfully joking or.. very much not.

"That was the intention."

Hanzo doesn't turn to look at Benedict, at least not immediately, but he takes a deep breath and looks over. It feels odd, to be so well dressed, to appear as what he is rather than what he is pretending to be, and he can feel it twist around him. There's a burn of something anxious in his stomach, but he forces it away. Here, now, he is the image of a Magsiter, at least in appearance - his heart does not have to be in it.

"It would be meaningless if I looked... Myself."

Benedict unsubtly glances him up and down, casting a snide little smirk at Hanzo in reaction. Cute.
"Well," he says primly, "let's hope our friend here drinks himself to forgetfulness." Lowering his voice, and in a mischievous tone, he adds, "or, you know. More. Anything to prevent him coming back."

He stands taller beside Benedict, trying to match his height despite the disparity between them. There's something sharp about it, about trying to prove that he can be what he had abandoned, trying to act as though he is what he... Isn't. It's a mixed, complicated thing, and he has to force himself to stand as tall as possible, to be superior, to be the slave owning, magic wielding master of the Shimada clan.

The smirk doesn't help, and he gives Benedict a sharp look, one only just softens as he looks away. He can't let the man think he gets away with everything, after all.

"It no longer matters if he remembers my presence or not." Hanzo's voice is lower, softer. "I... I am unsure what my future may hold, but it may include my family." Why tell Benedict this? Because, a small voice says, Benedict is one of the few people who knows the truth.

The sharp look affects Bene briefly, but the smirk only returns and more fully once it's over. "Then I suppose you'd better remember how to hold a fork," he says, with a vain toss of his hair, "and calm down. You look like you lost an arrow up your bum."

As ridiculous as Benedict is, being around him is soothing some of the more ruffled and uncomfortable parts of Hanzo. He breathes out, shaking his head, trying to shape his face into a mask of superiority rather than discomfort. It has been some time.

"I recall most people from Tevinter looking much like they had a quiver there, not just a single arrow."

Though Benedict doesn't laugh aloud, Hanzo's remark gets a wide-eyed glance of delighted amusement: oh my god you just made a joke.

His lips twitch for a moment, fingers brushing over his jaw in a thoughtful motion before he crosses his arms again. It’s not often that he makes a joke, but he is both in the mood and trying to repair a bridge between them. Looking at Benedict, he smirks.

The moment passes, and though Benedict's smirk remains, he just shakes his head and steps away. He may hate Aurelius, but he still has to keep an eye on him and see that everything is to his revolting standards.

There's something quiet that overtakes Hanzo and, for a moment, he's brief and soft, but then he shakes his head. Benedict will entertain Aurelius, he thinks, keep an eye on him, do what he himself cannot, but -

"Be careful." It's as gentle as he can make it, but it still seems stern. Hanzo is here not just for House Asgard; he had made a promise to aid Benedict. It might have ended up twisted in Minrathous, but it has not ended.

Hanzo receives a glance back over Bene's shoulder, and a smarmy little wink. Careful. Please, you're not his nanny.

Player Plot | From Tevinter, With Love

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