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[ OPEN ] Heart's on fire
WHO: Character(s)
WHAT: Zevran Aranai's School for Rogues Who Can't Sneak Good and Want to Do Other Stuff Good Too.
WHEN: Wintermarch, all month
WHERE: Skyhold: Courtyard, Stables, Rookery, Battlements, etc
NOTES: Sass, Stealth, and Violence
WHAT: Zevran Aranai's School for Rogues Who Can't Sneak Good and Want to Do Other Stuff Good Too.
WHEN: Wintermarch, all month
WHERE: Skyhold: Courtyard, Stables, Rookery, Battlements, etc
NOTES: Sass, Stealth, and Violence
He had mulled over the notion for a few weeks now; watching the soldiers take themselves to task, the warriors practicing as best they could; the mages training in their spells and thought- aside from combat (and even then there were tricks soldiers did not always think to teach) how was a rascal, a scoundrel, a rogue to learn more tricks? A well trained operation of any sort had well trained members of all sorts; the bruisers, the wizards, the rogues. Perhaps it was high time someone did something for the sneakier sorts.
[ Courtyard ]
Every lesson starts the same- a quick lap around the courtyard as fast as possible, vaulting over people and structures, running along the wall, making use of all the same skills that kept him alive all those years in Antiva City. For those that did not know them? The tricks came as a brief primer after the lap was finished- even a brief demonstration is offered. Afterward he runs them through a few training locks set into empty chests, some of the them wound with ringing alarms for the sake of practice. Trip the wrong tumbler? Off goes the alarm. After that it's stealth and pickpocketing. Sneaking about through a field of tripwires connected to more ringing bells and powder packets, a veritable labyrinth. Any bells go off, any powder on your person? You go through again. One of the training dummies has been re-purposed with bells and pouches on it- each pouch has a bell attached. They're timed and told to get as many as possible without ringing any bells. Ring a bell? Run a lap.
[ Stables ]
Here there is room enough for him to demonstrate proper trap production and dismantling. Every wound spring, every steel mechanism. They start with the basic bladed traps- though none of the blades are sharpened and none of the powder explosions hold more than dye. Once they've made traps that are...decent or satisfactory, Zevran walks them through detection and dismantling. Some of the practice traps have trick springs and triggers- if set off they'll be dusted with powder instead of losing their fingers. Later he goes through a list of common poisons and venoms to create and how to build up a tolerance for them. He does not provide them with samples this early on.
[ Battlements ]
Rappelling and dueling and improvisational combat and you! Here Zevran shows them how to climb, how to fall, how to make their own ropes when they've none of their own, how to throw a rappel to make it stay, how to haul it down, and how to dual wield on uneven ground. Demonstrations with Isabela and sparring with whoever wishes to take their turn happens throughout the day as requested; Zevran also covers grappling, breaking holds, and how to fight dirty. An honorable rogue is a dead rogue after all.
[ Wildcard ]
Want individual attention? Make something up here!
no subject
Again, much like love making.
Zevran tips his cheek to rest against Anders' still holding the one hand still while he lets Anders feel out the remaining two catches. "You must be careful- if you jar the lock too much? The first three will come down and jar your picks loose at the best- or snap it at worst. Speed and smoothness will come with time. Right now you merely need to know how it feels. Memorize that? And even should you find an unfamiliar lock you may be able to work your way through it. Unless it is trapped, but we shall worry about that another day."
With that Zevran removes his hands from Anders', dropping them down to once again curl around his waist. He can watch his progress from here well enough- the mage knowing how to find the latches and press them into place on his own for the last two is the important lesson here. And, perhaps, he simply wishes to warm himself on the back of a man he knows isn't too terrible.
no subject
He shakes his head to try to clear it a little and pull his mind from the arms around him. It doesn't completely work. He's far too weak to temptation, in Justice's opinion. Anders thinks he's exactly as weak as he should be, considering how rarely he's given the opportunity to even feel tempted.
Unfortunately, he really is a little distractable, because exactly what Zevran's warned about happens. He slips, the three come back down, and the picks are knocked loose. Anders sighs and restarts. Practice makes perfect, and all that, and it's better that he has issues now rather than later. His life doesn't depend on this right now. Slowly he prods them back into place and gets the fourth up... then the fifth, and the lock clicks open with a very, very satisfying sound.
"Don't tell me, that was the easiest one of them all." But that's all right and it shows in his voice. You start small and build. Even as he speaks he's leaning his head back to rest on Zevran's shoulder, getting perhaps a little more comfortable than he should. The man's gorgeous and seems to be feeling accommodating, though. Why wouldn't Anders get comfy?
no subject
Not kissing, simply pressing. Resting there while he watches his hand. The real contact comes when he opens the lock and, perhaps, it is framed as it's own sensual reward. The slow pass of his mouth up Anders' jaw, nipping at the skin under his ear. Isabela had such lovely things to say of the man and it is difficult not to be at least a little curious. And-
As a friend? This is something Anders needs. The contact, the teasing, the grounding. It is easy to lose oneself in the desire for survival. He knows that well enough.
One hand slips up from Anders' waist to rest against his sternum, encouraging him to lean more. "It is a fine beginning, yes."
no subject
"An excellent one, if I dare say so myself." He drops a hand back and down to slide up Zevran's thigh slowly, giving the elf all the opportunity to stop him. When that doesn't happen, he turns his head to brush a feather-soft kiss to the corner of Zevran's lips.
How badly he wants this is a somewhat scary realization. Even more frightening is that he thinks he might need it. Anders has always been tactile, always craved signs of affection and now it's being offered with the awareness of who he is. It leaves him breathless.
"May I kiss you? Fully, I mean."
no subject
"Of course." He meant it, earlier, that Anders needs this. That he needs the contact, the grounding- needs to feel whole and human for a short while. There's no teasing- no games. Just the slow slide of his hand up to cradle Anders' cheek in his hand and let him feel that for a moment- it is also as good a way as any to get an idea of how much stubble he'll be wrangling later. But it is for Anders as well.
no subject
He leans into the touch, twisting around so he can meet Zevran's lips with his own. The first contact is a tentative, gentle touch of their lips together, but a moment later he kisses in truth, yearning, hungry, pressing his lips to Zevran's and opening his own.
Anders turns the rest of the way and presses the whole of himself against the Elf, drinking in the warmth and closeness he's had so little of for so long. He doesn't know how Zevran knew he'd needed this, and he's not going to bother asking.
no subject
But he knows better than to be greedy. Knows what it is to deny himself something for the sake of sanity or safety. Anders? Has been aching quietly on his own for too long.
He pulls Anders in slowly, sweetly, inviting every slow twist and press of his mouth- every inch of him on offer without reservation.
no subject
Anders' yearning for something overrides both his reservations and Justice's as he crowds the man and soaks up what's offered like a sandy shore soaks up sunlight. And that's what this is - warm, restorative, everything he wants and needs right now.
Despite himself he makes a quiet noise, hands clenching in Zevran's clothing as he opens his mouth to the kiss. There are so many things he's gone without because of Justice, because of the cause, and he'd forgotten how good they could be. How good they could feel.
It takes all of his strength to break the kiss for a moment. "Is this all right? With... Who I am, taken into account?" A no would be devastating, but he'd recover. He's not so sure he could if this goes any further and then Zevran shoves him away.
no subject
Also it's been awhile since he's enjoyed that lightening trick. He's missed it. So that might be a catch.
He braces himself against Anders to give him something safe to fall into. To lean against while he curls his tongue against the Mage's, that same tang of ozone that he finds in most with power a heady thing. "Mmm?"
Oh, right. Questions of consent. Those are a thing. In a brief moment of seriousness, he rests their foreheads together. "Anders I have killed more people than you in the past six years alone. I have killed children in their cribs, mothers in their beds. What room have I to judge?"
None whatsoever. "Come down with me to the hot springs. I can show you how long I can hold my breath."
no subject
He makes a pleased noise at the invitation and brushes his lips against Zevran's once more before nodding. When he steps away and sets the lock and probes down it's with a slightly sheepish look.
"You may only have to hold your breath for a shamefully short time." The kisses alone had stirred his blood, and it's been some time since he's had anything other than his hand. That doesn't stop him from heading that way, though. Nearly nothing would.
no subject
[ ooc: Continued here ]