Open Catch-All | If my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy

[keenly]

WHO: Colin & you
WHAT: Catch-all for March/Drakonis
WHEN: Entire month
WHERE: Kirkwall, Val Royeaux
NOTES: Content warnings, OOC notes, links to other relevant posts, etc.

Sidony and Alexandrie

Since the Veil tore in this tower, Colin has had his hands full with melancholia patients. Some just need a little care and nurturing; others require alcohol infused with senna and any number of herbal teas for anxiety. He is in the process of stuffing leaves into a bottle when the door opens. He does not look up.

"Can I help you?" he asks distractedly, coming out of the haze of thought he always falls into when performing menial tasks.

Anders

There's a knock on Anders' door, and it is followed by Colin's muted smile as he holds up a bottle of wine.

"I'm, um. It's stupid, but I'm moving out. Officially. Just got permission this morning. Celebratory drink, for another mage getting out of the Gallows?"

Bartimaeus

To say it's a shock to see Bartimaeus casually in the hallway would be both correct and misleading, as if he would merely freeze in place instead of swearing and starting backwards, dropping everything he was holding. Also, he's not near any doors, which is. Fun. But it has occurred to him that this may simply be a weird rifter and not a demon, especially given the shard on his hand. Doesn't make him want to be in this hallway, but it does make him look embarrassed at his alarm as he gives a sheepish wave.

"Sorry," he says even though it was his own crap he dropped, which he stoops to pick up. "Hello, um. Again. How are you?"

Because their last encounter totally ended well.

Wildcard

Comments

[reshapes]

It's a funny thing, isn't it? He's heard all kinds of chatter about the Rifter who went to the dungeon since he's been out, but very few people seem to realize the individual in question might very well be the Rifter they're sitting right next to as they gossip. There's a kind of cool security in that sort of anonymity; it means he really only has to be on the lookout about being on his best behavior in front of a few select persons. That chap who's the head of Research, for example.

This one, he thinks, doesn't really qualify.

Which is good, because he doesn't have this pocketful of raw eggs for nothing. He'd hate for them to go to waste.

--But more on that later. Right this second, the boy raises his hand in a mirroring wave. His is rather more enthusiastic. He smiles and it is the fundamental opposite of benign, but who's counting?

"Oh, just grand. I seem to have gotten lost on my way deeper into the dungeons, but wouldn't you know it? I don't really mind."

[justice_is_blond]

"Moving out? I mean, of course." Anders smiles faintly and waves Colin in. The room is a little more bare than it's been before, with fewer belongings. "Why is it stupid, and where are you going?"

Purrelden hops off the table to come sniff at Colin, but Pawdric doesn't shift from his spot on the pillow.

[keenly]

A squint. But there's no questioning what he just said, because either the kid is a criminal counting on his statement to be outrageous enough to be taken as humor, or he really is just joking. Either way, doesn't require immediate combative behavior from Colin, as Colin has a very healthy sense of self-preservation by his own estimation. He opens his mouth to reply, then closes it as the smell comes over him. Sweet Mother, the smell. He raises a finger, trying to breathe as little as possible.

"About that. Come with me?"

He can keep an eye on the whatever-he-is, but more importantly, fetch him a bar of soap.

[keenly]

"Stupid that I'm happy about it, when this isn't a Circle anymore? And I'm living with Lady Alexandrie."

Two cats, no dog. No sign of husband, either. Colin heard vaguely about Howe's reassignment, but not from Anders.

"You're, um. All right?"

[justice_is_blond]

"I have two cats, what could be the problem?"

He's not looking at Colin as he answers with a question, deliberately fishing in the cabinet for glasses. Anders knows full well he has a shitty poker face. Colin is here to celebrate, not watch someone be pathetic.

"And it's not stupid to be happy to be out of this place. It's miserable." Which is maybe a little too honest, but at least it's on the other topic. "Lady Alexandrie seems... nice? I've met her in passing."

[reshapes]

Something in the boy's expression closes slightly. His eyes narrow. His good temper slips by a few degrees as he regards that raised finger suspiciously. He's not quite leaning back on his heels, but it's a very near thing.

"Why? Where are we going?"

And here he'd been about to unleash some unspeakable horrors on the poor lad.

[keenly]

"I can't believe I'm going to say this about a nob," Colin admits warmly, "but she's my best friend."

She's spending most nights away, with her Tevinter lover, but Colin isn't yet okay with mentioning that out loud. Not because of Anders, but because the walls have ears.

"You ought to come over. I'll make dinner." Make you feel less lonesome for your husband, goes unsaid.

[keenly]

"Um." He gets how the wrong impression might have come across, but the truth is that the right impression isn't all that much better.

"To get you some basic necessities," he decides is how he will put it. "Rifters typically don't arrive here with much. Bowl and spoon, comb, towel, soap, that sort of thing would be good for you to have."

haaaaay

[coquettish_trees]

"Indeed you can!" A bright accented exclamation. Hullo, Lexie.

"Have you a moment, cher? I should like to introduce you to someone." She’ll wait until he looks up and then gestures elegantly to the woman at her side. “Lady Sidony Venaras, of Nevarra. A most ardent and talented student of the non-magical healing arts, with a persistent desire to improve her abilities so as to better preserve us all. She expressed an interest in speaking about possible improvements in herbal remedy, and so!” A flourish. Here we are! She turns then to Sidony and makes indication towards Colin.

“My very dear friend Colin, of whom I made mention. A dedicated healer both magical and mundane, well versed in the properties and application of herbs—as is currently being demonstrated—and unsurpassed pastry chef. At least, in Kirkwall.” Alexandrie’s eyes sparkle mischievously. Orlais isn’t giving up the pastry crown yet.

[justice_is_blond]

"I suppose if the nob is a good friend, then I could see my way clear to coming over," he says as he brings the glasses over and sets them down. There's a little teasing in his voice. He doesn't trust nobles by default, but if Colin is vouching for her then she's worth his time. And it's nice to have a distraction. His own rooms, which used to always feel too small, now feel too big at the same time. It'll be good to have company for a meal.

"When is the big move?"

[keenly]

"Well, I've been moving bits over for a few weeks, but it's going to be official tomorrow. I'll get everything else over then."

A glance away as he changes subject.

"And, um. We should talk about what we can do for Elise. Maybe some other magey things as well. Myr said you two were talking about a...book?"

[justice_is_blond]

Maybe he should get out of the Gallows too. He looks around the room briefly, wondering if he could get away with moving back to Darktown. No. The cats wouldn't be safe. He'll think on it later. For now, as usual, there are larger matters.

"A book, yes. It's been an older idea in the back of my mind, but a book of stories of mages we've lost due to the Circles could be... something. It could stir sympathy, make their deaths less in vain. And it could keep their memory around a little longer." As much as he's trying to pitch it as a tool, there's definitely a personal aspect to it. "We've had so many be taken from us when we weren't at war, when some were perfectly behaved, and maybe it could shake up some people thinking that it's only the troublemakers who struggle."

[keenly]

Colin swallows. Gnaws on his lower lip for a second.

"I could...probably tell you about the ones I knew who died when Uldred attacked. About all of that, really. But, um, if I do, and it's published? My story is...recognizable, by people who were in the Circle. The people I was friends with, the way I hid so I could hear... And there's one of them who really wouldn't want me talking to anyone writing a book, because in his mind, it would follow that I would talk about him. And I don't want him looking for me, or finding me. You know who I mean."

[justice_is_blond]

Anders steps over and rests a hand on Colin's shoulder.

"Not like that. Not anything that would give anyone a lead as to where specific mages are, or who was telling the story. But we... We pick mages and tell a story of their life. One incident, one situation, something funny or sad, but then also tell of what happened to them after, without any details from the teller. I want... It's things about their dreams and who they were. It wouldn't be about the living."

[reshapes]

Look, he might believe it if it was coming from someone who hadn't spooked and bolted so fast from the dungeon that he'd left an outline of his own body in dust behind him. As it is, this sounds rather like being invited to stick his hand in a bear trap. Oh no, Batimaeus. Don't be silly, Bartimaeus. I'm only trying to help you. I'm definitely not planning to put you on the Essence Rack or lock you in iron lined room the moment your back is turned. Well, fat chance. You'll not catch Bartimaeus of Uruk unprepared today, bucko.

That doesn't answer the matter of Why though, and to be honest - he's getting a little sick of endless mystery. But at least there's an easy enough way to go about solving this one. He plays along.

"Oh? That's very kind of you. Here I was under the impression that I'd have to slurp my morning coffee out of my cupped hands, but a bowl! And a whole spoon all for myself! What marvelous luxury. Lead on, friend."

[keenly]

"I know." Colin shifts his weight, a minor squirm under Anders' touch. "I wouldn't make it about the living, you know how private I am. But it's not...worthy, for them, not to talk about how they died. They deserve that story. It, it can't just be forgotten when those of us who remember are gone. How senseless it was, how preventable it was, how the templars saved themselves instead of their charges. Like what happened at Dairsmuid needs to be known, so does this. There's...I owe it to them. Because I listened to their screams, I've been charged with conveying those screams to the rest of the world. Haven't I?"

[justice_is_blond]

"That's the 'what happened to them after,'" he says, releasing Colin. Touch helps him. It doesn't always help everyone else, something he forgets from time to time. Or maybe he's just a little starved for it at the moment.

"Their death gets included, because that's what has the impact. First we make non-mages related to them, then they get to see their end and why it was undeserved. We could fire up their sense of right and wrong, of just and unjust. We wake them up to us being people, and we wake them up to atrocities against said people... but it has to be in that order. If we're just mages to them, nameless terrors in robes wielding fire and lightning, nothing we do will matter for long."

[keenly]

The why is because he smells. He smells really bad. It's a cliché about people in poverty, but soap is cheap and so is water.

"Don't make jokes," he says flatly. "My family had exactly one bowl and spoon each, and we were lucky."

[reshapes]

"Who's joking? I said luxury, didn't I?" He says, tone all breathless faux offense. "You people aren't very good at recognizing genuine sentiment, do you know that? I could shed a real tear and someone would appear around a corner to say 'Oh tosh, he's obviously faking it.' Cynics, as far as the eye can see."

[keenly]

"And if I talk about what I heard, what I saw, I might have been the only one who had those friends and heard those things. The other apprentices who lived, they were protected by Wynne in the lower levels. They didn't hear what I heard while knowing who I knew."

He may be a smidge paranoid. He has no way to know for sure.

[keenly]

"You're not wrong," Colin admits with a shy smile. Is he reading that right? It's like Byerly all over again. He pushes open a door and goes into his old room, which he's still moving things out of. Starts picking through things, some of which are left over from his old store. Bowl and spoon. Towel. Soap. He can't find a comb, so he wraps everything else up in the towel and turns to pass them over.

"The kitchens and baths are both downstairs. You know how to get there?"

[justice_is_blond]

"Colin." His voice is level and he moves to take the bottle from the younger man so he can pour them both something to drink.

"Hear me. No one will be outed. We'll omit any details that could put someone currently alive at risk. I will personally make you aren't put at risk. That will mean some details have to be left out but that is valid reasoning for it." And if the Templar figures it out anyway and comes for Colin, then maybe that particular problem could be put to rest permanently.

[keenly]

Colin releases the wine and sits on a chair. Anders is right, but it's impossible to feel comforted. He's entirely accustomed to hiding and pretending, devoted to never making an impression on the world because the people who make impressions on the world always end badly. And making an impression means making tracks. Prints that can be followed. This would be the first footprint. With a second one, there would be a line leading in his direction. He spent four years running from the templars and four years before that running from one specific templar. When does he stop? End of the earth? When can he finally consider himself safe?

When the wine is poured, he barely notices.

"I'll do it," he says meekly, and after a moment, sips his wine. "I've just never done...anything."

[reshapes]

Bartimaeus follows, but very specifically doesn't cross the threshold into the room beyond. Thanks, but no thanks. The towel wrapped bundle is accepted with all the caution of being presented a live bomb.

"Obviously. What about them?"

[keenly]

"You...might want to try. The baths. They're really lovely, but do use the ones in the Templar tower because they're hot."

A faint, apologetic wince.