O1 ♚ I'M IN NEED OF AN ANSWER

[slaveking]

WHO: Marcel Gerard & you
WHAT: A vampire chillin' in Thedas gets a log with both open and closed starter options. Running on rooftops, hanging at the tavern, murder practice, the usual.
WHEN: December
WHERE: Various throughout the fortress Skyhold
NOTES: Up to PG-13 for language, will note more in subject headers as they arise

See comments for starters!

Comments

[slaveking]

What, a scandalous joke. Marcel arches an eyebrow at that, the corner of his mouth curling, a little bit wry, more than a little curious. "The Chant of Light is beginning to remind me of some religions back home," he says, shaking his head. "Thanks for the warning. I'm gonna keep your dirty jokes to myself.

"Heresies aside."

There's a shift of his tone. He flicks the corner of the sheet of paper he'd delivered, almost absent-minded, although his question is decidedly less formal than some of their earlier banter. "I was also wondering if you knew about any vacancies at the Tavern. Seems to be the place to be, if you aren't going to war." He cocks his head a little, eyes crinkling. "Or maybe if you're multi-tasking."

[rathercommon]

"Oh - really? You want to work in the tavern?"

Huh. He seems a little bit too...clever? Accomplished? Something. He speaks so beautifully, like someone educated and possibly wealthy; Kitty had rather assumed that he was someone who worked a prestigious job. Especially given his level of education that lets him get her things like this.

Still. He seems smart. He's a good conversationalist. He's straight-up gorgeous. Who's she to say no to him? If he wants to work with her, then by all means.

"Do you have experience with that sort of work?"

[slaveking]

"I spent most of my youth in the service industry," Marcel says, something a little sharper in his face for a moment. Not hostile to the girl, naturally. A beat. And then he wags a brow. "Slavery joke. Hard to punch upward when the company doesn't have context. Anyhow, my family was pretty invested in bars and taverns as I was coming up.

"I think I could make myself useful." She's not wrong. Marcel is dreadfully well-educated, and he certainly plans to use that to his advantage as time goes. For now, though, he'll settle for getting his hooks into the only place he's aware of where Rifters could congregate comfortably. He grins at her, lets it linger. Not trying particularly hard to be subtle about it, nor to press. "It'd be good to get to know the lay of the land, and what it's like living here, before I look at fighting demons."