faderift | open, catch-all

( another shrug; the parts of what he says that don't interest her sliding off like water, curiosities of how another person sees the world without being anything she feels the need to adopt for herself. )

Together our whole lives. Besides the bit where everyone thought me dead.

And why did they think that?

( tsenka holds up her wrists— )

Do you not know, or do you want to hear it as I tell it?

I don't know.

[ A truth? A lie? Hard to tell with Byerly. ]

( her laugh is bright— )

Well, it's probably written down someplace, I bet you can give yourself permission to read it.

( not in terribly great detail, but about the same broad strokes tsenka would summarize it in. he's likable, this one, and she likes him fine, but stripping naked her recent traumas—

at minimum, he'd have to buy better drink. )

What brought you to Riftwatch?

[ He tips his head slightly to the side in acknowledgment of her refusal. If, indeed, it was a lie, and he knows, the lie was surely for that purpose - to give her the ability to feel as though she's not in the presence of someone who knows to pity her. And who knows? He's a busy man. Maybe it was true. ]

Would you like an exciting lie, or would you like the truth?

( it is, on first impression, difficult to imagine byerly pitying anyone, particularly.

but she lifts her fingers from the edge of her pipe, an elegant sort of gesture, habitual, )

Whatever you like.

[ So he shrugs in response. ]

The Venatori aren't a threat only in the North. Even beyond the Frostbacks, there is concern.

Well, and as well there ought.

( as someone who knows a thing or two about making her continued existence the problem of everyone around her, the venatori really fucking excel at that. )

How long has it been Riftwatch, and not the Inquisition? I don't remember hearing about it before I came here. Small world to cross so many familiar paths in it.

[ A light smile touches his lips. Many would follow with other questions - after all, Byerly's manner isn't that of someone who would fight for patriotism. The odd juxtaposition would perhaps draw suspicion from those with deep wells of curiosity. Perhaps Tsenka does not have those wells. ]

A few years now. The arrangement has suited us well enough. Given this group, oversight by an organization as disciplined as the Inquisition - [ ha-ha, low bar to clear ] was rather uncomfortable.

( byerly strikes tsenka as someone with the presence of mind to know that a world under corypheus' bootheel will be a world without dank, comfortable pubs to sing for liquor in—

probably there are deeper reasons. probably it's rude to push at them, after you've pushed someone away from your own. she doesn't imagine this will be the only time they ever talk (would be disappointed),

and there's always his dreams. )

Not many here who seem as they'd do well in an arm of the Chantry.

( there's some fondness in the observation, so whatever keeps tsenka at arm's reach of riftwatch, it isn't dislike. )

[ A short laugh. ]

You might be shocked to hear just how many of our number openly spit at the Maker's name.

[ Neither approving nor disapproving. It's just a curiosity more than anything else. ]

( the laugh she breathes out through her nose has smoke in it— )

Probably not, ( wryly. ) Though I wouldn't go so far, myself.

( tsenka isn't an atheist, nor an agnostic; she supposes she believes in the maker, but if he's turned his back to them, then everyone's ought to shift for themselves. the chantry, she thinks— that's a separate thing again.

like a verbal shrug: ) He's minding His business as I'm minding mine.

[ Likewise: ]

If every parent earned hatred for being neglectful, why, we'd have no love at all in this world.

( that makes her laugh, though she isn't sure how someone outside a circle would take the joke — if he were another mage, or she knew him better, she might have made a crack about how little she knows about parents,

but tsenka is au fait with the concept of making a joke and having someone ask, concerned, if she's all right. and he doesn't seem heartless. so maybe best not. though, that's quite a jest for him to make in the first place— +5 approval, relatability. )

Thank the Maker for witherstalk is all I've to say, ( is dry as hell.

she'd sort of like to be a parent, if it were ever possible, but the idea of being able to settle down somewhere with a little cottage and no fear of being dragged from it— maybe it's easier to imagine if you're already sleeping beside who you'd like to be in it. )

[ His smile turns a little more cynical - a little more honest - as he presses a hand to his heart. ]

His truest gift. His kindest benediction. Without it, there might have been wee Byerlys running about - imagine it with horror.

( a long, thoughtful, faintly amused look—

ah, probably wouldn't be so bad. but she obligingly feigns a quail, punctuated with a drink as if she needs it. )

[ A nod of approval. Correct reaction. ]

Circles technically forbid that sort of thing, don't they?

Oh, they forbade it very strictly. Nothing technical about the Circle's attitude.

Well. The technicality, I should think, is - Gather horny teenagers together, and they will do what they do. No preventing it.

( lightly, )

We're not drinking anything good enough for where that conversation leads.

[ A shrug; fair enough. ]

It is occasionally difficult to know what is or is not taboo to discuss with mages.

[ He's not being condemnatory there, nor judgmental. It can be difficult to know what's taboo to discuss with Antivans, too. ]

( her look is more thoughtful, )

It's not taboo. There's not much mysterious about it, is there? But—

( a shrug. )

Mate, ( with a laugh, rueful, tired, ) it's a fucking downer, isn't it? The fear, the loneliness. Taking babies away from scared girls still bleeding from their birth. Telling yourself not to love, as if that makes it stop.

Now, you want to hear about mages fucking on the road, I've got stories.

That was more what I was after.

[ But: ]

But there's much that's mysterious, in fact. There's much we don't know about your lives. We nonmagical folks. And the mages of our company... [ He gives a small, helpless gesture. ] They do not precisely appreciate prying. Understandably so. But it leaves a fellow rather in the dark.

( tsenka takes a breath.

she considers him, through the smoke, over the glass. a more serious look, not troubled precisely; measuring. how much she trusts him, how much she believes his interest sincere, what it means to answer those questions. )

I can tell you the good stories. I don't mind it. None of them come from the Circle. I can tell you about the Circle, too, but—

( she sucks her teeth. )

Hard not for it to sound... ( a spin of her fingers. ) You don't want to sit here and listen to some dreary old tale of mundane woes.

( does he? )

Didn't keep everyone in check, you're not wrong about that, but you did not want to be caught. And we all heard the rumors about what happens if you're fool enough to get pregnant, and unlucky enough to stay that way.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject