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It's a trying couple of weeks for one Loki Laufeyson, for several reasons. First of all, he's here, and he's not sure where here is in the greater cosmology of things. Were Thedas more technologically advanced, perhaps he would. Or perhaps it doesn't matter; all he knows is that he's far from the reach of Yggdrasil, the Nine Realms, or the TVA, despite how many (not native to Thedas) Midgardians there are here.
So. He spends a lot of time in the library but also in the room he shares with what he can only presume is the help (what fun!) pouring over the books that were suggested to him and copying documents given to him by Alexandrie.
When he isn't in the library or the group rooming situation, attempting to sleep in and failing miserably, he investigates the apothecary, the docks (of course), and the prayer garden as it is nice, quiet, and presumably, he won't be disturbed there. Presumably.
Disturb him, please.
So. He spends a lot of time in the library but also in the room he shares with what he can only presume is the help (what fun!) pouring over the books that were suggested to him and copying documents given to him by Alexandrie.
When he isn't in the library or the group rooming situation, attempting to sleep in and failing miserably, he investigates the apothecary, the docks (of course), and the prayer garden as it is nice, quiet, and presumably, he won't be disturbed there. Presumably.
Disturb him, please.
Loki has been here a week and a half, by this point, and while he doesn't exactly know if Alexandrie has spoken with the Ambassador but he does know this:
He needs a room of his own. Or else he's going to start screaming the next time half the room wakes up at the crack of dawn, noisy and chipper and whatever else. He can't handle it anymore. He just can't.
So. He makes his way up the stairs (too many stairs, honestly, way too many) and knocks on the door of the office labeled "Diplomacy".
At least he didn't find the housing quarters first.
He needs a room of his own. Or else he's going to start screaming the next time half the room wakes up at the crack of dawn, noisy and chipper and whatever else. He can't handle it anymore. He just can't.
So. He makes his way up the stairs (too many stairs, honestly, way too many) and knocks on the door of the office labeled "Diplomacy".
At least he didn't find the housing quarters first.
It's a rare moment when Benedict isn't in the office. Which - Perhaps it's a good thing for Loki that Benedict isn't there, indeed, because the young man has sense enough that he'd likely try to keep distance between Loki and his sour-tempered boss, cutting off all access to the Ambassador. But on the other hand, that distance would be for Loki's safety as well. So really, who's to say?
Regardless, what it means is that after Loki knocks, it's Byerly's voice that says, "Enter."
Regardless, what it means is that after Loki knocks, it's Byerly's voice that says, "Enter."
Erik is a man who likes to keep busy. On his return to the Gallows he continues his combat exercises in full armor, plays some tennis, and takes advantage of the heated baths on a several-days-per-week basis.
For his part, generally, when he's not in the Gallows, can be found in the Market District of Lowtown or in a Lowtown bar here or there. Erik doesn't appear to have a favorite watering hole. There's also city projects to work on, like building temporary refugee housing
He also pops in on the Alienage from time to time, a familiar albeit human face amongst the elves he's much taller than. He's often making haste through the neighborhood in the thirty to forty minutes before the last ferry to the Gallows makes its departure from the docks, not weaving as he walks but only just barely. For someone that holds their liquor well, he seems to be taking it pretty heavily these evenings.
For his part, generally, when he's not in the Gallows, can be found in the Market District of Lowtown or in a Lowtown bar here or there. Erik doesn't appear to have a favorite watering hole. There's also city projects to work on, like building temporary refugee housing
He also pops in on the Alienage from time to time, a familiar albeit human face amongst the elves he's much taller than. He's often making haste through the neighborhood in the thirty to forty minutes before the last ferry to the Gallows makes its departure from the docks, not weaving as he walks but only just barely. For someone that holds their liquor well, he seems to be taking it pretty heavily these evenings.
This is going to be great, Loki thinks to himself, because really if he doesn't give himself a pep talk he'll never go through with this.
Alternatively, he'll set the group housing room he's in on fire tomorrow morning, and see how well that goes over with everyone.
No, this is definitely the correct action, even though he's completely unsure how it will actually go. So. Loki pokes his head around the door and then the rest of him follows, dressed in the typical clothing Riftwatch grants their wayward Rifters use of upon arrival. "I was hoping to speak to you about joining the Diplomacy Division."
There. Short, sweet, to the point. No presumptions and no attitude. He clasps his hands behind his back and waits to see what happens next.
Alternatively, he'll set the group housing room he's in on fire tomorrow morning, and see how well that goes over with everyone.
No, this is definitely the correct action, even though he's completely unsure how it will actually go. So. Loki pokes his head around the door and then the rest of him follows, dressed in the typical clothing Riftwatch grants their wayward Rifters use of upon arrival. "I was hoping to speak to you about joining the Diplomacy Division."
There. Short, sweet, to the point. No presumptions and no attitude. He clasps his hands behind his back and waits to see what happens next.
What if, Byerly thinks, he just punched him in the face? By isn't good at punching. Rather famously, he has weak arms and a poor grip. And yet, this smarmy Tevinter bastard surely will take a punch even worse than Byerly will give one, won't he? Just look at him. So skinny. So frail. And it'll be so satisfying. And Byerly has been working so hard; doesn't he deserve nice things?
Then again, if By breaks his hand, he won't be able to sign all the documents in front of him. And look at those fucking cheekbones. He'd probably shatter his wrist on those cheekbones.
"In what capacity?" By asks. There. That was...moderately courteous.
Then again, if By breaks his hand, he won't be able to sign all the documents in front of him. And look at those fucking cheekbones. He'd probably shatter his wrist on those cheekbones.
"In what capacity?" By asks. There. That was...moderately courteous.
It is really a blessing of the highest order that Loki cannot tell what Byerly is thinking at this moment. For one thing, he's better at both taking and receiving a punch than the Tevinter version of himself is. Presumably. He's definitely had more practice in that regard. Just by the sheer amount of time he's been alive and causing trouble.
For another, he thinks this is going fairly well. It isn't. But he doesn't know that, yet.
"Ah," Loki frowns a little. "I'm afraid I don't know what the options available are, exactly, in that regard."
Please, Ambassador. Enlighten him.
For another, he thinks this is going fairly well. It isn't. But he doesn't know that, yet.
"Ah," Loki frowns a little. "I'm afraid I don't know what the options available are, exactly, in that regard."
Please, Ambassador. Enlighten him.
What, Lexie hasn't coached you in what to ask for?
By sighs through his nose and sets down his pen. Looks more fully at this man. "Help yourself, won't you?" By says, gesturing to the sideboard stocked with various decent wines and liquors.
Ah, to be his spymaster back in Ferelden, who always had one poisoned bottle on the shelf. Which bottle it was rotated. By was never certain whether the policy was in place so that the man could pour a poisoned cup in case of emergency assassination or whether it was to discourage pilfering by his staff; it worked in both cases.
By sighs through his nose and sets down his pen. Looks more fully at this man. "Help yourself, won't you?" By says, gesturing to the sideboard stocked with various decent wines and liquors.
Ah, to be his spymaster back in Ferelden, who always had one poisoned bottle on the shelf. Which bottle it was rotated. By was never certain whether the policy was in place so that the man could pour a poisoned cup in case of emergency assassination or whether it was to discourage pilfering by his staff; it worked in both cases.
So that, while a welcome offer, is so wholly unexpected that Loki just blinks at first instead of moving towards where Byerly has gestured. He does recover in a second or three and goes to the assorted bottles before lifting to read the label of what seems to be Prophet's Laurel gin, and a pair of glasses, before looking over at Byerly again.
"Would you like one as well?" Something Loki has chosen, or something else? He doesn't want to presume, here.
"Would you like one as well?" Something Loki has chosen, or something else? He doesn't want to presume, here.
Will the man slip something into the cup? Seems like something he'd do. After all, if he's looking to join the Diplomacy division, then no doubt at some level he thinks he ought to be in charge of the Diplomacy division. To say nothing, of course, of the fact that Byerly is now a romantic rival. But this creature is a Rifter, newly arrived; even he wouldn't be able to get his hands on venom this quickly.
Or maybe he would, and Byerly would die. After the month he's had, that doesn't sound so very unwelcome.
"Sure," he says. "Pour me one."
Or maybe he would, and Byerly would die. After the month he's had, that doesn't sound so very unwelcome.
"Sure," he says. "Pour me one."
"Alright." So, two glasses of Prophet's Laurel gin it is, the first of which is gingerly set on whatever space is available in front of Byerly that doesn't have a paper underneath it; Loki would rather set it on a coaster or something but alas. The working Ambassador's desk does not have an immediately apparent one of those available.
The other glass remains in Loki's hand as he settles himself into a seat at the opposite side of said desk, crossing one leg over so that his ankle rests on his knees before taking a sip. Not bad, actually.
The other glass remains in Loki's hand as he settles himself into a seat at the opposite side of said desk, crossing one leg over so that his ankle rests on his knees before taking a sip. Not bad, actually.
Loki's eyebrows go up; he takes a sip of his drink and swallows, eyes going from Byerly to the desk, to the walls, and back to the man in front of him.
"Well." Begin at the beginning, isn't that how the saying goes? Yet 'I was adopted after a war between the Jotun and the Æsir in which I was abandoned by the former' seems like... hm. Somewhere he doesn't want to start.
He is taking too long to answer this, he knows. So he takes a breath and begins ticking items off of his fingers. "Prior to my arrival here I was a Frost Giant, raised by Asgardians. Crown prince, actually; second in line to the throne I had very little interest in holding. One-time Regent of the people and planet of Asgard. God of Mischief; Liesmith." Five items thus far. "Former 'employee' of the Time Variance Authority, though that was primarily under duress, and considering they erased me from time, clearly I was not great at that job."
Loki takes another sip of his drink. If you have questions, Byerly, now might be a good time.
"Well." Begin at the beginning, isn't that how the saying goes? Yet 'I was adopted after a war between the Jotun and the Æsir in which I was abandoned by the former' seems like... hm. Somewhere he doesn't want to start.
He is taking too long to answer this, he knows. So he takes a breath and begins ticking items off of his fingers. "Prior to my arrival here I was a Frost Giant, raised by Asgardians. Crown prince, actually; second in line to the throne I had very little interest in holding. One-time Regent of the people and planet of Asgard. God of Mischief; Liesmith." Five items thus far. "Former 'employee' of the Time Variance Authority, though that was primarily under duress, and considering they erased me from time, clearly I was not great at that job."
Loki takes another sip of his drink. If you have questions, Byerly, now might be a good time.
Abby's only just getting used to working with swords let alone in sets of full armour; nobody has spoken to her about missions or her own gear, and she has a vague feeling that it's up to her to sort it out. Turns out asking around gets you practice equipment, all of it ill-fitting and surprisingly heavy. Nothing she can't handle, but bewildering to think that people typically fight like this at the same time.
She's watching people practice, while she gets her grieves on. Better to keep it simple, and layering the armour on as she gets used to how it changes up her movements.
"Need a partner?" There's only one other person out practicing right now. Abby likes that, the dedication, so she calls out. Might be able to copy over a couple moves, too.
She's watching people practice, while she gets her grieves on. Better to keep it simple, and layering the armour on as she gets used to how it changes up her movements.
"Need a partner?" There's only one other person out practicing right now. Abby likes that, the dedication, so she calls out. Might be able to copy over a couple moves, too.
Not the only person combing through the library, then. Abby has been whittling away her quarantine time in here, for a couple of hours a day. It has a good atmosphere; she likes libraries, always has. There's a lot to read up on.
In fact, she's got her eye on one of the books in a stranger's stack. She'd been reading it the other day. Actually marked her place when she realised she wasn't going to finish it up, just to come back to it later, because she didn't think that anybody else would have been interested... the library is often sparsely populated.
"Can I borrow that." She's wedging it out from between the stack without waiting for a reply.
In fact, she's got her eye on one of the books in a stranger's stack. She'd been reading it the other day. Actually marked her place when she realised she wasn't going to finish it up, just to come back to it later, because she didn't think that anybody else would have been interested... the library is often sparsely populated.
"Can I borrow that." She's wedging it out from between the stack without waiting for a reply.
He takes a very mild sip as Loki speaks. At the end of it, he says, voice placid, "I hope, good fellow, you aren't so ignorant of this world that you believe that what you've said is comprehensible to me."
Another successful negging, delivered by Ambassador Rutyer.
Another successful negging, delivered by Ambassador Rutyer.
"Fair." He closes his eyes for a moment and continues that way. "Before I arrived here I was not human, though I appeared to be so. I have had a rather long and varied life, including acting as Regent — I should hope you have those here, at the very least — being worshipped as a god and chasing an alternate version of myself through time and different world-ending events. I have experience convincing large numbers of people that I am right, at the very least, but also running a monarchy. I am good at magic, mainly illusions, and I would appreciate some position within your department."
Mainly so he can get the hell out of the group bedrooms but that's not worth mentioning, he decides. Loki opens his eyes. "Is that better?"
Seems like an honest question, not a taunt, though with him? Often hard to tell.
Mainly so he can get the hell out of the group bedrooms but that's not worth mentioning, he decides. Loki opens his eyes. "Is that better?"
Seems like an honest question, not a taunt, though with him? Often hard to tell.
"Then perhaps it is for the best that I am not as powerful as I once was." Loki takes another sip of his drink and considers the glass and its contents. "Provost Stark, I'm sure, would gladly tell you a horror story of how I attempted to overtake his home with the help of well-armored friends, if you wish for more direct reasons why you shouldn't take me on. But I am good at what I set my mind to."
"Are you used to making questions into statements and ignoring the possibility of rejection?"
Loki frowns at this girl, before making a decision and lifting the books on top of the one she's trying to pry free. "Don't move the bookmarks." If she dog-eared her page, she'll find it's been replaced with a piece of blue ribbon. "And bring it back when you're done."
Loki frowns at this girl, before making a decision and lifting the books on top of the one she's trying to pry free. "Don't move the bookmarks." If she dog-eared her page, she'll find it's been replaced with a piece of blue ribbon. "And bring it back when you're done."
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