Entry tags:
04 | CLOSED
WHO: Lakshmi Bai & Wren, Herian, Thranduil, Araceli, Ioverth, Kitty, Solas and Teren - ( Also: Flint & Vane )
WHAT: Telling Some Whole Truths.
WHEN: Post-Fade Adventures, some time after her house arrest.
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: Probably really extra.
WHAT: Telling Some Whole Truths.
WHEN: Post-Fade Adventures, some time after her house arrest.
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: Probably really extra.
She sends them just the one note:
I require your presence, together this evening, for a matter of serious urgency in regards to the Inquisition.महारानी,
Lakshmi Bai
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Her smile kicks, "I will not damn others any more than I already have by mistakes - " something that doesn't need to be repeated right now to a room of people either present or aware of it, or it wasn't their business. " - for that and the danger I inflicted, nothing but my service will atone for it." If it comes easier or difficult to admit to her own mistakes, it doesn't show. She simply does as she always had, and gets on with it.
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The reasoning. We're all here, bitch.
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Her brow lifts, and - fine. "As you wish," she clears her throat, looking about the room. "I picked you all for your positions, or as near to them as I know it, and what I have seen of your skills. You, Commander, Knight-Enchanter Amsel, Provost, are the one who must know this first and foremost, so you can correctly place me in the field. To you, I owe everything, first and foremost. As well as you are a mage, Enchanter Amsel, and you, a Templar, Commander Coupe? Or was I mistaken in my misunderstanding? With both of your strengths present, if I truly presented a threat that I am unaware of, I know you both to be of sound body and mind to make that assessment."
Then her hand lifts, her head turning, to gesture to Ioverth, beside Thranduil. "Ioverth is intimate with Madamoselle Gwenaelle, whatever that means to Provost Thranduil, who I assume knows, given how freely she spoke of it. As they're married soon, it is the nature of couples to share everything as it stands, so pretending he wouldn't know is tiring. Besides, I wanted to give assurance that since I must truly be killed by first-blow, someone who can do it easily seemed pertinent and would know to do it even if the future. Especially so you understand how seriously I mean that I will gladly submit." This is what you wanted, right? So she goes on. Her hand lifts next to indicate to Solas. "Master Solas is both an elf native to these lands, and a mage of considerable knowledge who seems very well versed in spirits and has proven to be discrete. I thought to make sure to submit myself to any testing he might have so you could make absolutely sure I am not a mage. Additionally, if you would like further proof of my lack of corruption, I believe you know... Madam Galadriel? At least when we were all on that wretched island together. But, that aside, the wondrous properties of her cloth. To that, you ought to know what it means when I say it does not burn me."
A sigh stops her words, lets that first bit sink it. "Warden Teren I have served with, as I presently do not know any other high ranking members of her order, she was the only one I could vouch for the character of as someone who could mind her own words both now and later, who has a healthy amount of paranoia to not be swayed by anything I have to say if she thought it wrong." Expletives and dry sarcastic commentary aside. "I have promised my service to Captain Vane and Captain Flint," well, not Flint right now, but Flint soon, whether anyone liked it or not. "For when they need an experienced fighter on deck, in the future. So it seemed important that in time, I tell them in case the worst should happen, but that I had best go to their commander, Araceli - " a nod to the woman's direction. "- first."
And her eyes drop, at long last, at the end of her list, something fixed unhappily behind her mouth, to Kitty. If there has been anything at all to any of these explanations, it is - "And Miss Kitty, who I promised the truth to, and... she deserves the truth from me, more than anyone." But that - that wasn't really for this room, or these people, or anything else that matters. But more than anything, it was what mattered to her especially.
With it all finished, she turns her eyes back. Waiting, perhaps even patiently for her. There, anything else you needed her to explain?
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Kitty, Iorveth, Solas, even Araceli. Three of four division heads.
And she's issued what he's taken as a threat, by spilling his own private matters into the public sphere along similar passages. He doesn't look at Coupe, though he's felt her presence during the conversation. He'll take the tongue-thrashing she'll give him later, find out how Lakshmi came to know of Iorveth (the Fade? more than likely, they've been careful otherwise) and handle it.
"Obviously," calmly, calmly, about to hold out his hands and see if she will, at least, hand it over peacefully, but thinking perhaps it best to fall to Coupe or Herian. "You can no longer keep it on your person, let alone take it into the field."
They're too aware of how precious it is now, how easy to lose.
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It's Lakshmi's direct address that brings her out of her brooding. She doesn't understand, entirely, why she deserves the truth more than any other, but like hell she's going to question Lakshmi's logic. Because this is something that she does want to know, because it's something to safeguard and protect and keep from getting into the wrong hands. As for these others, though...The logic for sharing it with them sounds a lot less sound. Sharing something with someone because they're a mage is basically insanity, to her ears.
Well. It's Lakshmi's judgment, isn't it. So - "Why can't she?" Kitty asks, voice clear and steady. "She's protected it this far. And it's not like telling us about this makes her less capable of protecting it."
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Her gaze moves back to Lakshmi.
"As for promising your service to others, I would remind that you have joined the Inquisition, and that there are times when our decisions on where you might be placed, as you say, that may conflict with promises you have made." Her tone is cautioning, faintly reprimanding, and she looks back to Coupe and Thranduil both. "Best we have a meeting with Lakshmi Bai in private, for confirming details and discussing different possibilities, and then we can look to consulting with relevant experts as we see fit."
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Yes, they're going to talk about this. Thranduil too. How is it so difficult to keep confidential intelligence from the people you're fucking? A pity to have spent that report upon Petra. A pity, if it would even go anywhere (wouldn't: there's been no disaster yet, only its looming shadow). If his wrinkled cock continues to interfere with —
"Word of this will spread."
She's sent it to eight people in this room alone, and intends to tell the mercenaries to already have near mutinied. Bai's all but guaranteed that this won't be kept. Her state of mind, her evident disdain of their purpose, is the least of it. If she ever falls upon the field? If any of the numerous wagging tongues present take it to mind?
"You claim this requires security. Yours will not be enough to guard it." Before anything else, any argument can be raised: "Ashara will be informed."
Should have been from the beginning of this farce.
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Beleth should have been made aware of this from the beginning; it is beyond unfortunate that she was not, and doubtless that and the audience would to little to endear any cause Lakshmi might hope to champion to the Scoutmaster.
“You have spoken of your experience in diplomacy, in ruling, and in this capacity I have trusted you with a role within my Division. This meeting and your secrecy has rendered your judgment in jeopardy, and may have compromised your honour, no matter what good intentions you harboured.”
A pause, and she looks at Lakshmi with disappointment. “As a ruler, what would you do? To ensure the silence of those here? To hold you accountable for your deceptions and your actions?”
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She cuts herself off, shaking her head.
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But there are more pressing things at hand, namely, some ridiculous strain of cockamamie new-world magic bollocks that she can't even begin to fathom, and everyone here is talking about it like they've just found a pretty but potentially useful new kind of rock.
"What??" she says again, clawing her hands out on both sides.
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She rises, fishing for the silver chain and bows her head as she takes it off. Rolling it around in her palm. It was old, and yet, it had not aged a day. The silver markings, the snake eating its own tail. Different to the one Galahad bore. A design from a different century, a different place.
What had she done? Her thumb brushes against the coat of arms embossed on the back. What had she done with Sir Bors de Ganis? He had been such an old man, his bones looked so frail inside his skin for all his strength. Does she look like that, to them? Probably not, just old and a fool and stubborn.
"I understood him, that after the odd nine hundred years he had lived, you no longer see the world that way. I saw him no differently than the bandits that out of fear of starving took whatever food they could. If I accepted them into my army, why not understand him, also? People, time, take something from you seldom can get back. I took his guilt as genuine, I understood him, and I took him into my court." Her nails scratches against a bump, an old scratch. Gunfire, it looked like. That way of smooth and rough. "And for my trust, he died for me. I understand him, better now I think. I understood how hard it is to trust anyone at all when you know the wickedness or fear in their hearts. As for secrets - it wasn't one. Everyone knows of the blackwater drinkers, where it is kept, who wields it. They form a branch of a foreign government that defends the people."
Standing in front of Coupe, once more, she doesn't pass it to any of them. But she slides it, drops it so it hangs a moment from the chain, pendulum-like. Swinging like a clock count. "If this is your decision: I have given my word. But, as such, it means my duty as I swore it, has ended. If the Queen of Jhansi was the mantel I took up as a warrior for my people, and if I am no longer needed as one? Then - "
Forgive her Byerly, she meant to keep those words. But horrifyingly enough, she doesn't sound morbid, miserable. There is maybe a relief to this. "Self-immolation is what I would prefer since I cannot die in battle. I have set up what is required for it, but I would like another day so I may prepare my mind."
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Herian has watched Lakshmi throughout her words, and her jaw sets now. It does not feel so different from when she begged Coupe to render her tranquil, even with how stark and massive the difference certainly is, and it weighs uncomfortably.
“Would you make yourself a martyr and portray the Inquistion as tyrants?”
And then there was the inevitable comparisons to Andraste burning at the pyre, but she’s not sure she wants to even try to get her head around that right now.
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She spits, has lost any patience for this. Who’s the woman even rambling of? The vial disappears into a pocket, a rough gesture to Thranduil and Amsel.
“We are not discussing this here.” Another, to Lakshmi. “Your options are not death or getting everything you want.“
If this grits so ill it’s not for unfamiliarity. Better not to think of Minrathous,
“This will be settled with Ashara present, and by the established rules. You are not exempt of them for a crown or its absence. You will be watched. If you attempt to harm yourself, you will be stopped. Are we understood?”
A challenging glance about the room. Solas, Iorveth, Teren if she picks her jaw from the floor — let them say what they will, let this production be finished.
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But - there is a limit even to that, and she gives them a faintly incredulous look to Wren. "If you take it off me regardless, I will die, that isn't a choice I am making, Commander. You can't keep me like a suckling lamb, mewling at your feet. I will die, maybe slowly by weeks, or I don't, that is it." And she laughs sharply, bitterly - all vile things she's done her best keeping inside her mouth. "As for who it should be discussed by. You are who it should be discussed by least of all. It should be discussed by every damn ruler in Thedas, not one outsider group who is only half recognised by every one it meets. I came to you in good will, yes, later than I should, I admit my mistakes, but don't pretend you're doing anything less than I just did when I only sort an audience amongst many different groups as fairly as I could because it never should have been one group's discussion. If someone isn't here and they should be, by all means, invite them, it's only my lack of knowledge and personal contact with them that I did not extend them the invitation and I am glad to rectify it. So call for them, please, we can wait." Fixes, sharp and mean. It's comforting to not bother with the politics of it a moment. " - However, before you become horrified with telling everyone - " wait for it " - I also recognise your governments are corrupt, both internally and externally, as much by Corypheus as their own selfish, piteous moaning and there is no government to fall on my knees too except a bunch of stuck up, self-righteous, boot-licking noble whores or disingenuous religious fanatics."
Tell us what you really feel, Lakshmi.
And she likes Herian, and she sees her point well enough, but that makes her round up and bite more surely than anything else. "How dare you assume it has anything to do with how the Inquisition looks? Why does my faith mean less than yours? This is how death is found honourably for my people, these are the tenets by which I have lived all my life by. I am a daughter of Brahmins, and whilst that means nothing to you - it means as much to me as Andraste to the Chantry. Fire for us is the way to cleanse the soul to prepare for the next life. If my act of devotion makes you look like tyrants, perhaps you should consider how you run the Inquisition."
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A rare occasion where Herian’s voice is raised and it clips the end of Lakshmi’s words. “Do not speak to us as though we are blind to the flaws of the world that we have lived in our whole lives, and do not presume that none of us have suffered for it.” She almost expects flame to burn over her skin, coals to burn in her nerves, but her magic remains steady and constant. Good.
Herian breathes, and then back to her usual steadiness, calm and even: “It is not an unreasonable expectation that you speak with the Division Heads in private, before discussing in this open manner. You have, to this point, held the position of community outreach and influence within the Diplomacy division, and you know that we do our utmost to be readily available and there are roles within the Inquisition hierarchy that we make available for people to apply to and diversify the knowledge and methods influencing our approach and direction.”
“We need Scoutmaster Ashara in attendance before be proceed, and then I will ask whether having the blackwater administered to you daily and when you’ve need of it will be sufficient. I cannot imagine that the Provost or Commander intended to see you deprived of it completely and left to perish. I also would like to know what you plan to do when your supply of it dwindles, as what you have handed to the Commander seems… a near insignificant amount. Until the Scoutmaster arrives I will ask that all present take time to reflect on the situation and apply sense and reason, so that we might discuss it in a calm and intelligent fashion instead of slinging accusations and insults.”
She looks to the Warden. "Warden, if you would fetch the Scoutmaster and bring her here immediately. Do not speak of this to anyone on your way."
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But she does, mercifully, actually, shut up the hell up. Taking one, low, slow breath that she forces herself to ease back. "Very well, do as you must. I have given my word to follow it."
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The look on Beleth's face makes it clear that Teren hadn't tried filling her in on the way here. There's only one thing that Beleth is currently sure about: her assumption that this was regarding the events in Nevarra was astonishingly incorrect.
"Well, ah." Boy, is this awkward. "Hello, everyone. I was told there was a private meeting to attend?"
One that has clearly started without her.
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"Thank you, Scoutmaster. Lakshmi Bai has summoned us all to a meeting, and you were erroneously excluded. We felt it necessary for you to join us before we proceeded further, although I will... advise you that you missed a very compelling," the word is clipped, "demonstration."
In the worst case, the rifter could be accused of blood magic. In the best case, of having an over-generous flair for the dramatic. She thinks better of saying that, and goes on, "she has made it clear that she is eager to cooperate, and expressed her thorough disdain for self-righteous, boot-licking noble whores and disingenuous religious fanatics," take that as you will, "and also advised that she considers self-immolation a reasonable resolution. Hopefully that will not be proven necessary."
She says it all with her typical calm and seriousness, before she looks to the other division heads. It really is strange having to do this with such an audience, but here they are. Would either of you like to add, or shall I go on?
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"Forgive me, Scoutmaster, I did not know you well enough to know your character as well as I might. It wasn't meant in disrespect. I hope your wedding preparation goes well." She bows her head with the motion in greeting, her eyes sliding back to Herian as she talks mouthing lifting in a smile she has absolutely no right to bare but somehow, that might just be easier. "Do not forget, a concern of the only partial authority in so many lands the Inquisition holds, if we are at it." Is the bite, helpful she's certain. A fix in her mouth before she looks back to Beleth.
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Her final emotion on this particular roller coaster is mortification when Lakshmi brings up the wedding in front of the entire room. Sure, she's spoken to a few people about it, mentioned it once or twice in public, but this is hardly the venue (or the audience) that she'd want it announced to. There's a look of unease that crosses her face in a flash, but quickly disappears. The best way to handle this is to avoid the subject--an easy feat, since it was hardly the point of the gathering.
"My character has little to do with my position," She says, expression as neutral as she can make it. "But as it stands, I am here now. Thank you for seeing to that." A quick nod to Herian. "I have some questions obviously, but the most obvious thing that needs to be addressed: Should this be a discussion between the five of us?" AKA: What are the rest of these scrubs here doing, can we kick them out.
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But the rest was - well, might as well just catch the brunt of it while she was at it: "I am immortal, of what of a better term. Which is a singularly uninteresting fact, except that I could make anyone else immortal. So could Corypheus, if he ever came to know if it. I called the people here to test me, and decide what has to be done with me."
Because she stood by what she might. "But since aforementioned political groups at present aren't those I can safely give knowledge too or even trust with my life, I did as I saw best and confided in the only people who I knew personally or those I could trust to see beyond myself."
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Thranduil is better at training his face against showing his desire for it, but Beleth manages after a few moments. Even then, she needs a few seconds to process what else Lakshmi even said afterwards. Corypheus, right. It's the thought of immortal Red Templars that drags Beleth back towards the subject at hand.
"I...see. Thus, the self-immolation?" After a moment of thought, "That doesn't seem practical for attempting in the middle of battle. Would poison work?" It's her specialty, after all, despite everything else she's done. Though she quickly hurries to tack on, "It can be done quickly and painlessly."
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Then clears her throat, sliding her eyes across to Coupe. Then back to Beleth with a respectful turn of her head. A brief explanation at least, and maybe to clear something of the snap she'd had when her own fury got the better of her. "A self-immolation is a sacred act, we call it Jahaur, done in times of siege by women in my homeland when the warriors have all died and there is no hope. I am sure you have your own stories about what is done in such moments. It ensures their bodies cannot be defiled by an enemy, and that they may go onto the next life, whole. We usually burn out dead, you see, like Andrastrians, I suppose in some ways, but since no one can perform the correct rights for me after I die, I can ensure it by doing it for myself, first." Damn them, she wouldn't be misunderstood for what and why she wanted the things she did. "I requested the right to do it in the event that you deem my no longer fit to carry the blackwater and relinquish me of that burden permanently, or that you would prefer to keep me out of any useful roles. The Blackwater is something taken with great duty and those who drink it are bound to that goal eternally. If I was no longer seeking it out, then I am long ready for my death. Commander Coupe, however, disagrees." Her hand lifts, gestures to the woman, as she moves back towards the edge of the bed she had been sitting on.
sneaks in late as balls shhhhhhh
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