WHO: Athessa, Madi, Lucien, Skull, and YOU!! WHAT: catch-all WHEN: mostly Satinalia and later WHERE: Kirkwall and The Gallows NOTES: post-murderhaus h/c is gonna go here
Athessa's sitting beside him, good arm resting on the gunwale as she stares off at the horizon with the soft echo of a smile on her features. Her high is wearing off, slowly, but there's just enough haze for her to seem content.
Until Matthias says that. Her smile fades. She expected this, but had hoped it'd come a bit sooner, to be cushioned by the smoke.
He digs his boot heel against the bottom of the ferry, rocks his foot back and forth on that axis. It's an old habit, one fidget in a thousand.
"I wasn't going to say anything," he admits. "I thought maybe that'd be better. But then it seemed--I dunno. That I didn't care. So I wanted to say something. We haven't got to talk about it if you don't want to, though--if you do want to, I'm. You know. Here, and all. But we haven't got to. We can steal a cloak instead, get some food, whatever."
Matthias is a good friend. She knows that he means it when he says she doesn't have to talk about it, and tonight...she might just take him up on that. Mostly.
"I appreciate it, Matty, but I uh...don't really want to talk about it," she sighs and drags a hand down her face wearily. "It's not as bad as it could've been, and I'm not—This isn't like what happened with Devigny so you don't have to worry about that."
It had been Alexandrie's first assumption, her entreaty of tell me he didn't... Athessa isn't sure she has a way to explain the unique experience of seeing her kin gutted and stuffed like dolls.
Maybe this is what it feels like to be a mage and be confronted by an Abomination.
"So let's just. Get some food and have a real normal one, eh?"
He nods, quickly--very deliberately not looking at her but looking ahead as the little details of the docks and the city start to become clearer.
"Yeah," he says. As Kirkwall looms closer he studies its skyline, the crude shapes of Lowtown, the glimmering peaks of Hightown just visible if you look in the right places. Devigny: that big empty house is up there somewhere. There's loads of horrors, is what he is thinking, but he bites at his lip. "All right. Just-- if you wanted."
He drops his foot to the floor of the ferry, done with that particular bit of fidgeting. "I mean, you haven't got to ask me twice. I'm hungry."
"I'll let ya know if anything changes and I gotta talk about it after all," she assures, "Maybe when I can talk through it without...feeling like I'm there, seeing those things."
She blows out a breath, doing her own survey of the cityscape.
"Wonder if anyone's bought that estate," she muses, then nudges her shoulder against Matty's. "Whaddya think an estate like that goes for?"
Not that either of them could afford it, but it can't hurt to think about, right?
He nods, first--and then true to his word, moves on. Which in this case means leaning his shoulder back against hers.
"Oh," which he says airily, with an extra effort to shift out of his country Free Marcher accent to sound more of Hightown, "fifty hundred thousand Sovereigns, milady, and not a coin less. And they'd have to be delivered in velvet bags, each one of 'em a different color. We'd have to invent new colors. That's what sort of thing us posh folk respect, right?"
She follows suit, taking on a far too lofty accent to be anything but a parody.
"Oh yes, indeed, nothing short of newly invented colors will earn our respect and interest, my good man," Athessa nods. "Fifty hundred thousand...hey, wouldn't that be five million Sovereigns?"
"Like I would bloody know," still said in his fake accent, as he sticks his nose in the air, "making my money into other money is someone else's job, serrah, not mine. I'm too busy, don't you know, buying up massive expansive mansions and then knocking 'em down for sport. And... racing horses. I expect that's something we do as well. As the elite and all."
"Yes, yes, racing horses and sending those long-legged dogs after hares and taking tea on the veranda, whatever that is."
If Matty is of a mind to keep up the silly talk until they've hopped off the ferry and onto the docks, then Athessa will play along, sticking her nose so high in the air that at times there's some risk of falling backwards, but mostly the ache in her shoulder curbs that.
"Right," she announces when they've reached the official end of Riftwatch territory and the official start of Lowtown proper. "Lead on, my good man. I haven't the foggiest where this place is."
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Until Matthias says that. Her smile fades. She expected this, but had hoped it'd come a bit sooner, to be cushioned by the smoke.
"What'd you hear?"
no subject
He digs his boot heel against the bottom of the ferry, rocks his foot back and forth on that axis. It's an old habit, one fidget in a thousand.
"I wasn't going to say anything," he admits. "I thought maybe that'd be better. But then it seemed--I dunno. That I didn't care. So I wanted to say something. We haven't got to talk about it if you don't want to, though--if you do want to, I'm. You know. Here, and all. But we haven't got to. We can steal a cloak instead, get some food, whatever."
no subject
"I appreciate it, Matty, but I uh...don't really want to talk about it," she sighs and drags a hand down her face wearily. "It's not as bad as it could've been, and I'm not—This isn't like what happened with Devigny so you don't have to worry about that."
It had been Alexandrie's first assumption, her entreaty of tell me he didn't... Athessa isn't sure she has a way to explain the unique experience of seeing her kin gutted and stuffed like dolls.
Maybe this is what it feels like to be a mage and be confronted by an Abomination.
"So let's just. Get some food and have a real normal one, eh?"
no subject
"Yeah," he says. As Kirkwall looms closer he studies its skyline, the crude shapes of Lowtown, the glimmering peaks of Hightown just visible if you look in the right places. Devigny: that big empty house is up there somewhere. There's loads of horrors, is what he is thinking, but he bites at his lip. "All right. Just-- if you wanted."
He drops his foot to the floor of the ferry, done with that particular bit of fidgeting. "I mean, you haven't got to ask me twice. I'm hungry."
no subject
She blows out a breath, doing her own survey of the cityscape.
"Wonder if anyone's bought that estate," she muses, then nudges her shoulder against Matty's. "Whaddya think an estate like that goes for?"
Not that either of them could afford it, but it can't hurt to think about, right?
no subject
"Oh," which he says airily, with an extra effort to shift out of his country Free Marcher accent to sound more of Hightown, "fifty hundred thousand Sovereigns, milady, and not a coin less. And they'd have to be delivered in velvet bags, each one of 'em a different color. We'd have to invent new colors. That's what sort of thing us posh folk respect, right?"
no subject
"Oh yes, indeed, nothing short of newly invented colors will earn our respect and interest, my good man," Athessa nods. "Fifty hundred thousand...hey, wouldn't that be five million Sovereigns?"
no subject
no subject
If Matty is of a mind to keep up the silly talk until they've hopped off the ferry and onto the docks, then Athessa will play along, sticking her nose so high in the air that at times there's some risk of falling backwards, but mostly the ache in her shoulder curbs that.
"Right," she announces when they've reached the official end of Riftwatch territory and the official start of Lowtown proper. "Lead on, my good man. I haven't the foggiest where this place is."