closed. send out the morning birds to sing of the damage,

[apostasia]

WHO: Martel, Adelaide LeBlanc.
WHAT: Comparative magical theory.
WHEN: Vaguely current/recent.
WHERE: Skyhold Garden.
NOTES: Martel is a warning, but if anything specific comes up, I will edit.

Having returned from his adventure down the Frostbacks with the Orlesian elf girl (and her thrice-damned horse), Martel - does not immediately seek out Adelaide's company. He does not, as a rule, seek out company. Much less immediately. There is enough as needs doing that can or must be done by him that though he has had it in mind to do for a time, it's been...not urgent. While other things - he did not miss the Abomination, no - have been.

Still. He finds her in the garden, unhurried as he descends the steps, observing her. The way that she moves, stiff and deliberate; it is a moment before he announces himself, and not with a greeting--

"It seemed to me that as I have made myself a part of this organisation, I might make myself available to some of the relevant parties as to what uses I can be put to," not quite dryly, just sort of - as Kalten once put it, you know how he is. Martel talks a certain way, it's a problem with his personality.

And as for relevant parties, there are a few, potentially. But the simplest place to start is with the mages, and he and Adelaide are...

...acquainted.

Comments

[fleurdesel]

"Yes, because even artful violence is so sporting." It's wry rather than angry, the twist in her voice. Such things are far more common in Antiva than Orlais; but the use of it isn't beyond her. It will take some time and some work but it will be well worth learning.

The last earns a soft snort, the lightest snapping of her fingers. "Damn. And here I thought I'd finally have an opportunity to repay you the courtesy."

Yes, they can joke about how they met now.

[apostasia]

His laugh is all the more genuine for how startled it is - can they? It'll be some time, in likelihood, before he thinks he might risk trying it himself, but he doesn't hesitate to appreciate the moment as she chooses it. Very little is sacred to Martel; his own death is a punchline he can't pass up. But being allowed to laugh and being allowed to make the joke first aren't the same - he knows.

"I see your game," he says, amused. "You only want to learn so you can give me a taste of my own. Well, fair."

[fleurdesel]

"Am I so transparent in my intent? Yes. Yes I am." She snorts a laugh, softer, shorter than Martel's but no less mirthful. When he is like this she can say that he's tolerable. Even go so far as to risk calling him pleasant company.