open | full circle pt 1

[exequy]

WHO: Concerned mages/rifters/others
WHAT: An emergency meeting!
WHEN: Solace 20
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: Explanation in the OOC post. Please tag this like a network post. There are top-level comments to provide a little chronology/structure, but threadjack to your heart's content.

Before and during dinner on an otherwise unremarkable Wednesday, there's a chain of whispers (or notes, or perfectly audible comments from the particularly unsubtle) about an emergency meeting, at an evening hour, in a basement room, regarding a matter of concern to rifters and mages.

The basement part is probably unnecessary. It's certainly ineffective; the organization is too small, the Gallows too contained, and the halls too echoey for something arranged with this much finesse-wrecking haste to truly remain a secret. They could have done it in an empty office or the recreational dining hall, probably, and sat on chairs instead of storage crates. But Kostos picked the location, and he's dramatic. If nothing else it signals a clear intention to do this as unofficially as necessary.

Anyone who accepts the invitation (or just decides to come see what the fuss is about) will first encounter Marcus Rowntree, posted up outside the door like a bouncer, letting mages and rifters move through undisturbed but stepping in to question and likely bar the arrival of anyone else. Inside, Kostos is nothing but a dark scowl in the room's far corner, picking at a splinter of wood on a crate and not mustering a word of greeting for anyone who comes in. Derrica has parked herself within arm's reach of Kostos, a long gold-edged shawl spilling over one shoulder. Her diplomacy pin gleams from the front of her tunic. The worried pinch to her brow is the only outward sign of anxiety; otherwise, she is tightly contained, watching people enter. Julius–notably not in robes–is serious but calm as people come in, standing next to the ever-composed Madame de Cedoux.

Once as many people have arrived as seem likely to, Marcus closes the door, remaining beside it, and they explain what the problem is.

Comments

[altusimperius]

[Bene mirrors the smirk, though it fades quickly.]

What in Maferath’s name would possess someone to become a Loyalist? Do they not know what goes on? Or do they just not care?

[He does, and he’s never set foot in a Circle of Magi.]

[inkindled]

They know what goes on. They'd have to be dead blind not to. Some of 'em might be from a Circle what was never so bad--they were out there, supposedly. Me, I don't believe that to be possible, but that's what I've heard. And then others--well, if you play by the rules, you get rewarded for it, don't you? All that power that comes of going along. The best little mage gets the best room in the tower.

And then I reckon most of 'em believe it as well--that we need controlling and a Circle is the only way for it.

[altusimperius]

...that's pathetic.

[It takes a pathetic person to know one, maybe, but there's no need to point that out.]

[inkindled]

[He shoots Benedict another smirk.]

Well. Loyalists. 'Pathetic' is just another word for 'em. [Amusement fades quickly as Matthias casts a look at the others crammed into this little room in the cellar.] And we have to put up with 'em, because they're mages. Like us.

[altusimperius]

[A single silent nod, and Benedict seems to accept that explanation. Mages like us, northern and southern alike. It's hard not to wonder if Tevinter mages have more in common with southern apostates than the latter do with Loyalists, but this is neither the time nor the place to ask.
Questions like that tend to make people angry.]

[inkindled]

[Speaking of questions--now that they're in a little mage club together (moreso than they were before), Matthias can ask, casually,]

What d'you reckon your boss'll make of this? The Ambassador.

[altusimperius]

[It's an uncomfortable question, and Benedict's reaction demonstrates this; his shoulders tense a little, his head lowering. This is why he'd hoped not to speak at all.]

He's worried. That another mage rebellion will undermine Riftwatch's goals.

[And he himself was told to spy on the meeting and report back, but that's neither here nor there.]

What about yours?

[inkindled]

[Matthias' easy nod--this answer is, after all, not a surprise--quickly changes to Matthias pulling a face at the question.]

C'mon, mate. You know my boss. He's not precisely having a heartfelt chat to me after hours, is he. But-- [He gives a little glance round, then confides,] I reckon the Commander's the sort to allow it if it suits him.

[altusimperius]

You think so?

[Bene's estimation of Flint is not a generous one, but he recognizes that he's also coming at it from the man's bad side.]

How would it suit him?

[inkindled]

[Well, when it's asked like that... Matthias shrugs.]

I dunno exactly. Like I said, he's not chatting to me. But mages, we're a good distraction, aren't we? If he's got other stuff that wants doing. Loud and showy and there's loads of history--with the Chantry's over here paying attention to us, who's to say what pirates're up to. Like, he's a pirate, from Tevinter. He'n Silver-- [Him, over there, Matthias jerks his chin in the man's direction.] --they came over to Riftwatch after some sort of rebellion up in the North Seas. That's what I've heard, anyways. And he's interested in mages--like, taken an interest in, I mean--which is suspicious of anyone, in my opinion.

It's not that I don't trust him, or respect him, like, but... [He shrugs again.] Still. S' all something to know.

[altusimperius]

[Following Matthias' nudge with only his gaze, Benedict nods his understanding. Flint being Tevene and a pirate aren't news to him-- there are many reasons he keeps his distance from the Commander, and those are, remarkably, lesser ones-- but he hadn't considered this angle.]

So you think he's not above using this as a smokescreen.

[inkindled]

But that's between us.

[Which is a yes, without saying it outright. Matthias leans back, arms folded over his chest.]

Which means don't run off and tell your boss.

[altusimperius]

Of-- of course.

[Benedict squares his shoulders, meeting Matthias' gaze with a nod. It's nobody's business, is it?

Oh, for fuck's sake.]

[inkindled]

[Riiiiiiight. Matthias holds that gaze a moment longer, until, abruptly--]

D'you like him? The Ambassador?

[altusimperius]

[Cool Points, how little he knew ye.

With slight reservation,]

Yes.

[inkindled]

[He makes a quiet little derisive snort, and folds his arms over his chest.]

Why?

[altusimperius]

[Noting that snort, Bene resists the urge to snort back.]

He’s good to me. [usually] He gave me a second chance after I fucked everything up.

[He looks down, shrugging one shoulder.]

And I just… do. [Like him, that is.]

[inkindled]

Mm.

[More acknowledging than agreeing. Matthias looks out across the room now, briefly turning his attention to the conversations going on out there.]

Probably doesn't like you all that much, though. Does he. Not you-you, like personally. But generally.

[altusimperius]

[It's an unexpectedly cruel thing to throw out there, and Benedict's snort arrives, delayed.]

Why would you say that?

[inkindled]

'Cos he doesn't like mages, does he. [Matter-of-fact.] Thinks we're liable to go off like kegs of black powder at any moment. And you're a mage, yeah, so--generally, he can't really like you.

[altusimperius]

He's afraid of them.

[Many people are. Bene shrugs one shoulder.]

It's more complicated than that. He knows I wouldn't do anything to hurt him, magical or otherwise. [A beat.]

...I've promised.

[inkindled]

So he's not afraid of you any longer? Because you promised?

[altusimperius]

I trust him not to use me as a political meat shield, and he trusts me not to hex him when I'm irritated. We're adults, it's not that hard.

[inkindled]

Yeah? Brilliant.

So he'd fight to keep you out of a Circle?

[altusimperius]

[A thoughtful pause. His and Byerly's conversation wasn't a pleasant one, but the takeaway could have been worse.]

...he considers us part of Riftwatch. He would fight to keep us here.