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Entry tags:
- abby,
- benedict quintus artemaeus,
- byerly rutyer,
- cosima niehaus,
- derrica,
- ellie,
- james flint,
- julius,
- kostos averesch,
- loxley,
- marcus rowntree,
- matthias,
- petrana de cedoux,
- tsenka abendroth,
- yseult,
- { glimmer },
- { harrowhark nonagesimus },
- { joselyn smythe },
- { jude adjei },
- { laurentius vesperus },
- { richard gecko },
- { seth gecko },
- { tony stark }
open | full circle pt 1
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.
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.
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only so he can cock his other fist back and swing it for Kostos' face, vaguely, all fury, some previously dampened fire set alight. ]
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No.
While it's not unexpected, Derrica had hoped to avoid out and out fights. And she hadn't put money on it being Marcus and Kostos, though maybe—
Well, a thought for later.
In the moment, Derrica simply abandons her present conversation to hurry across the room to try and wedge between them, push Marcus back or grab Kostos' wrists before he can swing back. Whatever is possible in the moment. ]
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When it does, he stops. Movements still jerky, scowl still furious, but his step back and twitchy attempts to shrug her off are those of a man calming down. Angrily. There's a red patch on his cheek that will be blue and purple before long. ]
We're done.
[ Grated out. ]
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Where anger flashed hot, now it runs cold, and Marcus backs up after an initial push forward. His other hand pries off of Kostos' arm, while the fist he'd formed stays locked.
No words out of him, seething in place, but working on stopping. ]
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She doesn't step out, even as the ceasefire settles between them. She takes it in. Kostos' bruise. The anger receding in increments on Marcus' face. One hand remains at Marcus' chest, even as she obliges Kostos' pull away from her grasp. ]
Marcus, would you go find Julius?
[ They don't need to be scolded. She couldn't presume to attempt it, these two who fought in a war she was absent from. The toll of every part of this discussion is clear to her. ]
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Yeah, go find Julius,
[ to what Derrica already has in hand. ]
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Which stands a non-zero chance of reigniting something, rush of anger stupid and heady and looking for anywhere to go, but Marcus doesn't move, freezing in place. Flicks a glance down at Derrica. Steps back, stiffly.
And leaves. Maybe even does as told, when he doesn't simply head for the door out. ]
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Her fingers curl, briefly, in the front of Kostos' tunic before she lifts her hand. Holds her place in front of him, just in case. ]
Let me see your face, [ is soft, even with some twinge of disappointment for that last taunt. ]
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Don't waste your energy.
[ However little it would take. He acquires worse bruises—or just-as-bad bruises, no shade on Marcus' punching abilities—once a week, at least, from dockworkers and sailors who take the bait. ]
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[ But she won't do anything Kostos doesn't ask her to. Her fingers touch, very light, at his jaw, examining. It was a good hit. ]
Did it help?
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It would have helped more if you'd let me hit him back first.
[ —is not a joke, actually. But this is: ]
Think anyone else noticed?
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[ ha, ha. ]
You don't have to stay, [ a return to Seriousness. ] You could gather your supplies and saddle the griffons, if you'd rather.
[ If you'd rather not be here anymore. ]
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Are you trying to get rid of me?
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[ Sincere. ]
But I know it isn't easy to be here.
[ And so: an option to extricate himself. If he likes. ]
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And since then, Kostos has been here—helping to find the phylacteries, to organize the strike, to negotiate the removal of mage property beyond the Chantry's reach, to knock the Nevarra City Circle into rubble. (With Nell. If Nell were here he might leave, confident his interests and information were both spoken for.) And keeping the contact who warned them about this.
He's in no position to be corralling this chaos, but he's not leaving to go fiddle with harnesses, either. Especially when he can't head for the front without Ellie and (apparently) Matthias.
And extra-especially when Marcus started it.
Sort of.
Anyway: ]
I'll survive.
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[ If nothing else, southern mages are resilient. These new-arrived northerners can say what they like, but the fact remains that these people around her came out of the worst circumstances, out of suffering and worse, and are still here, prepared to dig their heels in against the possibility of being forced back to what they'd left.
To say nothing of Kostos. What little Derrica has of him doesn't give her the impression of an easy life before he'd gone away to a Circle.
She winds a fold of fabric back and forth between her fingers. ]
I want to see you off anyway. I know there isn't much time, but there's something I have that might help.
Meanwhile
Julius extricates himself from the larger conversation so that by the time Marcus gets to him, he can speak quietly, even if they're not in a place for true privacy.]
Trouble?
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Which cracks, slightly, when he notices on a delay that he's drawn Julius away from something. Resentful, self-directed. ]
No. It's. [ A sentence begun, ended, settling on a single word answer; ] Disagreement.
[ He shakes out his hand, which twinges unpleasantly down the centre, into his wrist. ]
Sorry.
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I've never been among this many mages without one. [A disagreement.] You don't need to apologize to me. Do you need anything?
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mostly grants perspective. Time to feel foolish, grating against the conviction that Kostos asked for it. But he's unwound enough to use full sentences, so that isn't nothing. ]
For this part to be done with, [ wry. ] What's your measure of it?
[ Maybe there's an important conversation Julius ought to get back to, but Marcus rejects the urge to let him quite yet. ]
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Those of us who were paying attention knew this or something like it would come. Maybe not exactly this, and not precisely now, but we were always going to have to press older promises to see if they held and oppose a contingent who wanted a return to the status quo with a new coat of paint. They've done it in a rush and left some holes for us to exploit as a result, which is something.
Though what's bothering me, truly, is why. Why now? I can see moving before Corypheus is dealt with to get the assurance of the opening play. But why this month instead of four months ago, or two months from now? Is it just that this is when they got organized, or is something else in play?
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As Julius says them, Marcus takes out his cigarette case, evaluating the two he has left and extracting one. The end goes between his teeth, the other lit with casual magic. He does tune back in early enough to properly listen, conjure a response. ]
No harm in finding out, when we get there, [ he offers. ] Perhaps it was simply as soon as they could rally themselves.
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[A small gesture, indicating the room they're in, where most people are even mainly agreeing.]
But if it was something else, I want to know what it was.
[A brief pause, and then a bleak joke:]
I guess it's almost an optimistic sign, you know. No sense trying to sway the Chantry unless you think we have a chance of winning against Corypheus, is there?
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They could stand to remember who else is doing the winning of it.
[ The rebels at the frontlines. This little noisy group in Riftwatch. ]
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[Any softness in his tone is for Marcus, not the subjects of their conversation.]
I can't decide if my history means I'm in the worst or the best position to remind chide them for seemingly forgetting.
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