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[aenseidhe]

WHO: Iorveth + Yoooou
WHAT: Iorveth crawling out of his anti-social break up hole and getting his violent SJW groove on
WHEN: February - March
WHERE: Alienage + the Gallows
NOTES: nooot really anything tbh

ALIENAGE;

[ after ghislain, iorveth vanished into his home in the alienage for a long period of time. not only had it been a battle lost, but one he'd failed to fight to the fullest, for reasons he wasn't entirely ashamed of, and that, in and of itself, is a bad sign. not for most people, no, it isn't wrong to divide your attention between ones you love and war you're waging, but for Iorveth? it's everything that makes him who he is, who he's sworn to be, who so many good souls have perished in the name of.

he cannot give his whole self to war when part of it stays on the battlefield, and he cannot give his whole self to a man and woman looking to build a life when his own selfish drives might rob them of a loved one in something so simple as this:

spitting at the ground when a human guard passes him by in the alienage.

to convince himself he'd done the right thing, he's buried himself in living among these people, working with them, building their community, listening to them, hunching his shoulders and hiding in the crowds of them. many still see him as an outsider, and iorveth doesn't blame them for it. he is. he's not lived their life, even if his had been vastly similar, but he's committed to doing better in this place. so he waits, and he gives, and he goes out hunting for long weekends and brings back food and furs and firewood. he sets up tools and logs outside his home and saws at it, sands at it, builds simple things, like benches and tables and bedframes. iorveth's no great carpenter, but he understands function.

that's what he's doing when the guards pass by, and it could be considered coincidence - just a man at work catching something gross in his throat, happening to spit it out at an unfortunate time. but these guards know him by now. they know where he's from and who he is and what he's said and they've seen him staring at them, eye to eye, unflinching, as if waiting to be called out just for looking with too little fear. it isn't seen as a coincidence, because it isn't, and it's the last straw. one of the guards comes marching over to him, ready for confrontation. ]

DIVINE ELECTION STUFF;

[ it's one of his less frequent trips near the gallows that brings him past the chantry, where propaganda for one Divine candidate or the other is being called out. a crier for Benedetta, in particular, seems to be getting on Iorveth's fucking nerves, shouting something about non-Andrastians, yada yada, conversions, yada blah.

and he just happens to be in the mood to be a fucking prick. one of those douchebags, you know?

raising his arms up dramatically, he starts to shout as he passes: ]

Aen me Glaeddyv, zvaere a Bloedgeas, Ard Rhena - Glorsann aʼAelirenn!

[ it isn't even an actual prayer, but the way he says it, it sure does sound like it. iorveth's just begging for someone to hit him at this point. ]

WILDCARD;

[ idk man hit me ]

Comments

hit someone he says

[shri]

[ Takes one to know one. She's been doing her best to turn a blind eye to a lot of the chantries drivel of late. She had always been tolerant before, she can be so again. But it gets harder and harder as they begin pushing their agendas. Begin getting their followers to spout of certain assumptions.

It's like listening to a session of parliament, and she doesn't even have a way to start a fight out in the street to shut them up with their rhetoric. She's appearances to keep, good manners to pretend even as now she'd led the first crack, the chips were showing. She was beginning to care less and less for it the longer this went on.

Enough that - it shouldn't be it, but it is, it is such a relief when Ioverth mouths of like she so sorely wants to as they talk about converting like it wasn't just another excuse for empirical expansion. Aurangzeb to missionaries, they were so much of a muchness. How dearly she wants to shout faith is for God's will, not yours.

Instead, what she does, is sigh deeply, and ''accidentally'' bumps into him. Knocks her shoulder into his as he passes. She's supposed to be working for Community Outreach, after all. ] Master Ioverth. [ Like - oh, she didn't see you there. ]

wow ur supposed to be a homie!!!

[aenseidhe]

[ he's partway through another babbled string of elder speech that's more likely a recipe for dumplings than anything relatively spiritual (debatable - some people get very spiritual about dumplings (the player might be projecting here)), and then there's a knock against his shoulder.

why hello there, dear, are you disapproving of his shenanigans? ]

Madame Lakshmi.

[ said with a face that implies a quirked brow, not that you can see the actual brow, with the headscarf covering it. ]

Feeling the religious fervor today?

Dun worry babe she got ur back

[shri]

[ her smile is pained, and her voice a drawl as she looks up at the preaching woman - beginning another speech about conversion. About walking people into the light. Erg. ]

Who wouldn't? Why, it makes me feel as strongly as having an iron poker shoved up my -

[ she looks back at him with some hard in her mouth, turning back to him. How well does she really know him? Not really. Does it matter when they share this one particular sentiment strongly? ]

Why don't we give some alternative entertainment?

alienage;

[chainlightning]

[ The presence of a rifter elf in the alienage hadn't escaped anyone's notice, but it wasn't until today that it had really sank in for Merrill who that elf might be. She had seen things - terrible things, horrible things - in the Fade, even tangentially to him. They hadn't had much of a chance to talk about things, and Merrill understood not wanting to talk about those things, so she hadn't sought him out to do it.

She likely still wouldn't, but now seemed like a good time to- not seek him out so much as interfere.

Clumsy and bright and cheerful, Merrill was the last person even a human guard would assume to be up to trouble. She was the last person anyone in the alienage even suspected of being a blood mage, to the point that some of them had laughed in the faces of those sent by the Chantry to investigate. And so Merrill steps outside of her house, leaving her door partially open - all the better for them to escape into, if need be - and quickly strides toward Iorveth and the guards.

She hopes Iorveth can see her, can see the gesture she makes toward her partially open door. She hopes he can see it before she stops in the street, opens her mouth, and screams bloody murder with all the horrified conviction of a truly frantic woman. ]

[aenseidhe]

[ even half-blind as iorveth may be, the movement nearby doesn't escape him, and as the guards pace in, he casts a glances towards her, recognizing the woman. immediately, he wants to tell merrill she ought to keep her distance - he started this fight because he's an asshole, and it isn't her responsibility to side with him.

but then he nearly loses his shit and almost laughs out loud when she starts to scream bloody murder in the middle of the street. who know such a small thing could produce so much sound?

not letting her spectacle be put to waste, he manages to keep himself together and slip off and away, into the door she'd left open, quiet and quick as a shadow. he wasn't an elite soldier for nothing, even if he's a full six foot plus worth of one-eyed elf. it helps that anything non-human is mostly ignored by the majority race of this city.

still, once inside merrill's house, he finds a window to peer carefully through, intent on watching this show unfold, for the comedic value if nothing else. though, if they do try to hurt her, he'll be sniping some fools through the window, thanks. ]

[chainlightning]

[ Merrill's small dog, Barkley, recognizes Iorveth; it means all he's greeted with is a tail wag from where the mutt is curled up by the fire. He's in no hurry to move toward that open door, even if Merrill had been.

Outside, Merrill's scream has turned into distressed arm-waiving and hyperventilating. The guards have all gathered around her, hands on their weapons; they're clearly confused, not sure of the threat or if Merrill herself is a threat.

"Ma'am- Miss- Er-"

"What's all this racke-" followed by an elbow to the side and a glare; no need to go upsetting the elf if there's actually something going on.

Merrill, for her part, at long lasts manages to suck in a deep breath. ]

RATS! I saw rats, rats the size of a dog- one stuck his head out the sewer grate, I saw it-

[ It wasn't, technically, a lie. It just also wasn't something most people worried about unless they lived in Darktown, and it certainly wasn't something that Merrill had seen today. Even the rats wanted to stay where it was warm and... somewhat dry.

One of the guards looks like he's considering facepalming. Another is looking nervously around, like one of the massive rats might leap out and bite his ankle. The third at least seems somewhat professional and starts talking to Merrill in a tone one might use to calm down a startled horse before instructing her to go inside, "where it's safe", and that they were aware of the rats now and would take care of the problem. ]

Oh, thank you- they're horrid. At least there's not the giant spiders that come out in summer, I suppose...

[ And with that horrifying piece of information, Merrill wanders back toward her house. Only once she's inside and the door is shut behind her does she flash Iorveth a smile, even as the guard who was going to hit him outside swears about 'slippery rabbits'. ]

I mean, [ sweet as honey and lighter than light, ] they really ought to take care of that problem.

Alienage;

[meds4sale]

[The Medicine Seller is not far off in the square with his wares spread out on a cloth and speaking quietly with an elderly elven woman. After the exchange of medicine for a small bundle of plain, white cotton cloth, they both glance up at the sound of someone spitting.

As the guard stalks forward, it becomes apparent where this is going.

It isn't normal for the Medicine Seller to involve himself deeply in affairs that are not of a supernatural nature, but he has a fondness for Darktown and the Alienage, and a deep contempt for those who abuse their authority. He gestures, and he gestures again, subtle, unseen as all eyes are on the guard and the elf.

The guard's trousers drop around his ankles and he stumbles forward, losing his balance and faceplanting into a puddle of god only knows what.

There is a roar of laughter from the few who hadn't fled as the guard struggles in the muck to stand and pull up his pants at the same time - it's all very undignified, and the Medicine Seller watches on, impassive and poker-faced as ever.]

[aenseidhe]

[ iorveth's likely taken notice of the medicine seller if he'd been around the alienage selling wares before, as he has that elite commando and paranoid freedom fighter sense of things, always taking observations in, even distantly. but as for the current moment, his attention is entirely elsewhere, on the human guards approaching him rather than the various merchants and passersby in the street.

thus, the drop of the guard's trousers comes out of nowhere, and he doesn't have the decorum or the desire to hold in the bark of a laugh he lets out at the sight of a half naked man fall flat onto his face, directly after attempting to present as intimidating.

normally, mocking a human in authority would probably be met with some kind of punishment, even as one of the Inquisition, but the guard's patrol partner is far too involved in trying to get his friend up out of the muck and dressed again to bother doing anything to iorveth, as he leans his forearms against the piece of wood he'd been working on. ]

A leatherworker lives a couple blocks down, Serah, I may suggest a visit for a belt.

[meds4sale]

[It's hard not to miss the splash of rainbow in a sea from murky earth tones that was the Medicine Seller. He was painfully conspicuous at the best of times.

The other guard did not appreciate Iorveth's smart remark however, and said something the Medicine Seller couldn't quite make out. He did spot him going for his sword.

There was a thwip as something that looked like rectangular pieces of paper attached to the guards' helmets, and they too were pulled down over their eyes. The two men were now swearing and struggling to get the helmets off but they remained stubbornly in place. The partially unsheathed blade fell the rest of the way out and clattered uselessly to the ground.

There was another, more overt gesture from the Medicine Seller, his hand jerking to the side. And like a puppeteer pulling strings, the guards' heads clanged together. He lowered his hand back to his lap and just like that, whatever power he was exerting abated, and the guards could adjust themselves. They fled, half-running, half-stumbling, swearing this wasn't over, that they'd get a templar in to take care of whatever demon magic was going on.]