faderift | [closed] minrathous debrief

Entry tags:

ellie,
yseult

[closed] minrathous debrief

[ Riftwatch's eluvian hides in the basement of a tavern called The Bear, the sort of middling market street establishment with a busy taproom that is almost no one's first choice but could easily be just about anyone's second, the sort of place with a constant stream of custom but few regulars. The street behind The Bear trends a bit more residential, a degree more respectable if not quite fashionable, and Widow Tavisa's Boarding House fits right in, a fading but clean and quiet establishment catering to short-term visitors of the middle classes, so long as they have proper references. Few would suspect Barnus the tavernkeeper and Widow Tavisa have anything in common, let alone a tunnel and ancient servant's stair that connects their two establishments, a passage leading from the eluvian's hiding place to the upper floor of the boarding house, where Riftwatch now keeps rooms for visiting agents.

The largest one at the end is often Yseult's, as it is today, though when she answers Ellie's knock it might take a second glance to realize it. She is dressed as a Tevinter lady of means, from dark violet satin gown to black wig of elaborate curls, face heavily made-up around the eyes in last year's fashion and more subtly elsewhere, rendered softer and more rounded, the angles of cheek and jaw less prominent. She takes a pin from between her teeth, a flicker of a frown as she notes the fine spray of blood, and steps back to urge her inside. ]

Wash your face, [ she instructs, gesturing to the basin on the sideboard, while she turns back to a mirror to remove the rest of the pins holding the wig in place ] and then put the kettle on.

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[Ellie enters by The Bear. She knows better than the come in through the boarding house, given that she looks more often like a scruffy adventuring type than anyone of means. She could pass for a bodyguard if she had to, but not in her nondescript leathers.

Nobody sees her enter the back, or the servant's stair- and her mind is mostly on the next thing, not what just happened. She should let Yseult know that the mission turned out to be a lot more than initially planned. Her eyes aren't dark or haunted, but for those who know Ellie, she is muted. Muffled. Subdued.

Ellie frowns at Yseult's frown, lifting her fingers to her face to touch -- and they come away with fine smear of crimson. Ellie rubs it between her fingertips with a sigh.]

Shit.

[It's a mutter under her breath as she goes to do as she's told, scrubbing up her face and her hands with the water from the basin, careful to make sure she doesn't get blood on Yseult's things. The front of her leathers are easily sponged off, and by the time she puts the kettle on, she's back in order. Physically if not mentally.]

It's done. [Ellie takes her bow and quiver off to set aside, within easy reach, as she comes back to Yseult.] We have the Sons.

Garsus is a pushy fuck, though- we might wanna watch that. He's gonna press our people for all he can get out of this.

Edited 2023-01-22 20:23 (UTC)

[ Yseult drops pins by the dozen into a small dish on the dressing table, the wig coming off in her hands. A second set of pins follows as Ellie washes, until finally she can dig hands into her own hair and shake it free with a rub at aching scalp. While Ellie makes tea she cleans her own face, wiping away the lady's try-hard glamour, winter-pale beneath except for faint dark smudges under her eyes, one of which she has been discreetly keeping on Ellie throughout. ]

Garsus is not a long-term plan [ she agrees, scrubbing at a lingering patch of cosmetic near her ear ] But good.

[ She turns then to face Ellie, looking her up and down once, and then lifts her chin toward the chair by the fire. (It doesn't ever get truly cold in Minrathous, but the day is cool and raw.) ] Sit. Tell me what happened.

[ She steps behind the shoulder-height folding screen in the corner to change, but looks back, prepared to prompt with a lifted brow if needed. ]

Edited 2023-01-22 22:50 (UTC)

[Ellie nods; Garsus is an old-school type, the kind of smuggler that's mostly interested in securing his own power, keeping things running. Taking what he can get away with. He's an opportunist. If they're going to push the Sons towards Riftwatch's goals, they need something more than that.

But he'll serve his purpose. For now.

It's not until Ellie sits and forces herself to be still that she can feel her nerves buzzing, the crash of adrenaline. She looks down at her now-clean hands, finds that the fine trembling is back. She closes her fists, taking a slower breath until it eases.]

Garsus wanted Toni brought back, right? Well, he wasn't good at covering his tracks. [It hadn't taken very long for Ellie to find him at all, and a knife dug into the side of his ribs under the cover of a crowd had been more than enough to convince him to come with her.]

So I brought him back. Just like we agreed. I think Garsus expected it to take longer, or for him to put up a fight or something. So- he decided I needed to be the one to squeeze him until he talked about what info he was passing along, and to who.

That wasn't hard either. He had a bad knee.

[The point of a blade digging in an inch or so behind the kneecap is an effective tactic. Kneecapping's old school. Just give it a twist and it'll pop it right out, she can remember Tommy saying, one night when he'd had way too much.

Had, she says. Her voice is steady, flat.]

Edited 2023-01-22 22:51 (UTC)

[ Yseult can't watch her every moment. There are clasps and buttons to reach, tall boots to yank off with heels high enough that their loss drops the screen to something more like nose-height. The unavoidable rustle of satin competes with Ellie's flat tone, but can't conceal it. Yseult tosses the dress out onto a chair and fixes her with a look over the painted frame. ]

And then?

I got it all out of him. Garsus was pissed. Said Toni knew what the consequences were for that kind of shit. He pulled out his knife, and-

[Ellie shrugs. The amount of detail she includes reveals just how vivid it is to her, how it's still carved into her head, despite her casual manner. She hasn't looked up; she's keeping her eyes on the fire, fingers slowly fidgeting with each other.]

He said he wanted to be sure we were all in. That we had the mettle for it. So he gave me the knife.

[Ellie pauses here for a couple of heartbeats.]

I made it quick. He was a little put out about the rug. But he's happy enough to work with us moving forward. He's ready to receive one of ours when we're ready to hash out details.

[ He was a little put out about the rug. Yseult finishes pulling a sweater over her head and steps back out from behind the screen, freeing hair from its collar as she crosses the room. The kettle is steaming quietly on the hearth and she pours hot water through a strainer into a chipped cup and puts it in Ellie's hands. Her own is set on a side table as she settles into the chair opposite, drawing legs up crosslegged beneath the warm fall of her skirt.

She looks at Ellie, tilts her head and leans down as if to see her from below. ]

Do you think it was true? That Toni was a traitor?

[Ellie takes the tea to have something to do with her hands, resting it in her lap. It feels warm, and her fingers are cold despite the warmth of the room.

With anybody else, the conversation would be different. Why does it matter what I think? is swallowed like the rest of it, because Yseult is asking her this for a reason.

She thinks it matters. Or she thinks that it's something that Ellie should be thinking about.]

From what he said, yeah. He was slipping plans to the Venatori and undermining the Sons.

[But they have been wrong before.]

[ Yseult's hands curl around her tea cup, too, forearms resting on thighs, long fingers knit against warm ceramic. ]

And if you had refused to kill him? What would have happened?

We would've lost our chance at the alliance. They would've stopped trusting us to hold up our end of the bargain. And our field agents might've become targets.

[It's all true, of course. And she sees what Yseult is up to. Ellie may not appreciate it in the moment, but on some level she probably does need the reminder.]

And Garsus would have put the same knife in someone else's hand.

[ A key part of that equation. ]

Did he die badly?

Quick cut across the throat.

[Ellie's hands have stilled on her steaming mug of tea, thumb rhythmically running across the side of it. Slow, controlled, like a pulse.]

Dead before he hit the ground.

[All told, there's worse ways to go.]

That's good. [ Many far worse ways. ]

Before that, how did he take it?

[ At some point she may be forced to stop probing and just ask which tooth it is she needs to pull, here. But not yet. ]

Scared shitless. Didn't cave to threats, but a knife tip a couple of inches in, and he folded quick.

I've done worse.

[Not a fan of torture, she's told Yseult in the past. She still isn't. But it's also not something that stopped her now, and it won't in the future. Ellie's shoulders relax by degrees.]

Nobody in the room said anything, but all his lieutenants were there. I don't think they'll be questioning whether Riftwatch can handle things.

[ I can't recommend being tortured, either, Yseult had said that afternoon, in a rare flippant mood sprawled paralyzed in a chantry attic waiting to be killed. A knife tip under the kneecap is no fun, even when the blade is small, especially if it's hot.

She lifts her cup, drinks, and clocks the angles of Ellie's posture as she swallows. ]

You did well. It's what I would have told you to do, had there been time to ask.

[Ellie takes her first sip of tea then, letting the praise sink in. It's -- dramatic, the effect it has on her, as much as she wouldn't like for it to make such a difference. An authority figure doing something as simple as telling her that she did well.

Fucked up, probably. Maybe something to think about later.

For now, she just tries to appreciate it for what it is. She did well. Their people are safe. They got what they came for. This is a good, solid link in the chain.]

Thanks, Yseult.

[ It strikes her strangely to be called by her name. She's gotten used to Scoutmaster and its variations, as she's gotten used to a hundred other names over the years, though few so ubiquitous for so long. Some use it with respect and others disdain and most thoughtless habit, but they nearly all use it. Yseult still feels almost as much a secret spoken aloud as it did before she first arrived in Kirkwall.

She considers its presence here. She considers Ellie now compared with on arrival. Nods, one of those small twists of her chin that indicate acceptance. ]

You're welcome.

[ She lets a moment pass in tea-drinking, but only one. ]

When you get back, think on whether you want to remain our principal contact with the Sons.

[For Ellie, it's always names. Rarely titles. Never sir. She's had her fucking fill of it, thanks- and she mostly gets away with it by not generally referring to any of the leadership by name.

The choice is significant, here. Personal.]

I'll think about it.

[Ellie already feels she knows the answer, but it's worth considering all angles. Sleeping on it. She takes another sip of hot tea, lets it spread across her tongue. She's settled now. Much better than she was.]

Anything else right now?

[ Yseult considers for a moment, and then shakes her head. ]

That's all for today. But finish your tea if you like. There's no rush now that that wig's off.

[Ellie raises the cup a couple of inches with the half-smile. It's nice to have a place to sit for a moment, to gather herself before she heads back. Even if Yseult might not realize it, this did help.]

You think you'll ever teach me that? Disguising myself?

[It's almost playful, the ask, but Ellie's been serious enough, often enough, to see it as the tool that it could be.]

[ Yseult lifts a brow as she drinks. ]

Do you want to learn? I warn you, they itch. [ Is a joke, but her gaze has narrowed minutely in assessment. ]

So I'll scratch when I get home.

[Only half a joke. Another bit of tea, now that it's just pleasantly warm and no longer scalding.]

Really though. Yeah. I want to learn. Anything you want to teach me.

[And on a more serious note:]

What happened today could happen again. But next time it might not be something I'm good at.

[ It's a safe bet that Yseult is always observing anyone she's with, even when she doesn't seem to be. But sometimes she makes that attention obvious, the way it is now, like she wants Ellie to see the act of weighing up her response and considering the request. It lends some approving weight to the nod that follows, even if her tone is easy when she says ] Alright.

Is there anything in particular you're worried will come up?

[Ellie picks up on it, a lump in her throat. On the one hand, she appreciates it. On the other, she doesn't like being read so easily.]

Something where I'll need to make someone believe I like them, when I don't.

[Ellie knows her weaknesses. She always knows that she can do it for short stretches, but playing it to the hilt is something different. She's good in situations that might turn bloody or ugly, for missions in the dark that need a quick getaway.

Standing in the light and putting on a show- drawing a target in with her sparkling personality- best not to get backed into a corner.]

[ Yseult's nod is both understanding and agreement. Ellie has enough obvious skills that there hasn't been much need yet to force her to stretch beyond them in Riftwatch's service, and she's hardly alone in the company in struggling with that type of deception. There's more than one reason Yseult still hasn't really learned to delegate. ]

It's easier with all the trappings. To be a different person who does like them, not just yourself pretending to feel differently. Have you done any sort of performing?

[ She sounds like she expects the answer to be no. She's seen Ellie's Seattle, after all. ]

[It's a different way of looking at it, helpful. It's not changing her own reactions, it's stepping into completely different shoes and being someone else. (Strange, how the change in thinking makes it easier.)]

... some, actually.

It's a long story, but it was kind of like a Fade thing. I had a different life. I was- really low class, and the rich, powerful people basically would treat us like toys. They'd make anybody who committed a "crime" fight all the other "criminals" until only one was left standing. Like a spectator sport.

They got a kick out of using the people who won like status symbols. I was fourteen when I won my Quarry trial, so.

Lots of years playing guitar at a lot of fancy parties and pretending I was happy to be there.

I was never good at the smiling part. But it could have been a lot worse.

[It had been a lot worse for a lot of others. She had a marketable talent and good mentors.

Ellie says all of this very matter-of-factly; it's not something she's talked about very often, and if she does, it's like this. A footnote. A dream she had once. But it's probably important that Yseult realize she has some baggage here; it wouldn't be fair to surprise her with it if it becomes a problem.]

[ Even the short version is a long story, in some metaphorical sense. Yseult sits through it and tries to remain focused on Ellie's actual point and not on the weirdness of rifter 'lives'. She focuses, too, on how the story's told, the way Ellie's tone flattens out into something akin to the way she described the work she's just completed. She makes a mental note, and nods again. ]

It's different when you're working covertly, [ she says, hands still folded around the teacup and the edge of the saucer, balanced on her knee, other forearm resting across her thigh behind it. ] Similar in kind, at times, but you know that you're in control of the situation, and why you're permitting people to think otherwise, and that it will end when you've accomplished your goal.

[ She smiles, a shallow curve of closed lips. ] But we don't have to begin with fancy parties.

Edited 2023-02-16 01:37 (UTC)

[It's not something Ellie's super into talking about; she rattles it off like hey, it's something Yseult needs to know, but not something she particularly has feelings about being known. It's just a weird thing that happened to her.

Ellie looks up, the corner of her mouth firming up with a nod.]

You make it sound a lot better when you put it that way.

[As a position of power rather than a position of helplessness. As a way of remaining in control, by controlling what other people think. Ellie hasn't considered it like that before. But when Yseult says it, it seems obvious.]

I'm used to people thinking I'm not a threat. It's how I get them to drop their guard. If we're leaning on that...

[It opens up some possibilities.]

We should, [ Yseult's nod makes it sound like agreement, rather than direction. ] Young women make the best spies for precisely that reason. No one ever thinks twice about a vapid little housemaid or a debutante. I probably did my best work before I was twenty.

[ This is said wryly, self-deprecating. She lifts her tea cup and drinks, a hand on an ankle tugging crossed legs further up onto the chair's seat. ]

And you've a good face for it. You'll need to practice looking vacant. Men usually see what they expect, but you're a bit too sharp-eyed to fool the truly paranoid, or the wives.

[The compliment hits, and though there's a second of delay, Ellie nods -- and then it turns into something else. It's not something she's a stranger to doing consciously, letting her expression go softer, her eyes wider, her lips parted.

Ellie doesn't slump, but she stops taking up quite so much space, bringing her knees together to clasp her hands, like she needs something to grip. She takes a deep breath, her shoulders moving with it, and nods.

She ducks her head down, like she's trying to hide a smile, like a silly little girl getting a compliment from someone she admires. The eyes are the hardest part to mask.]

Well... if you think so.

[Her voice is not markedly different, but the tone is. Softer, higher, a little more musical, a little breathlessly excited.]

[ Yseult studies this transformation like a jeweler peering through a loupe. She even leans down to follow the duck of Ellie's head and peek up at her expression. ]

Good, [ she says as she sits back, watching still, ] Very good. We can work with that. What's the longest you've ever kept up this act?

[Ellie lets it drop as soon as Yseult reacts, and the satisfaction after that is very real. Part of why it had been convincing, actually.]

Usually just long enough to stab someone.

[ Yseult's half-nod confirms this was the answer she expected. ]

That will be the challenge. There's much more we could do with longer jobs but I've only so many hours.

[ And any name added to the list of people trusted with such missions is an exponential growth in her resources. ]

The anchor will limit you, but there's little to be done about that. How are you at accents?

[Ellie nods again, rolling her eyes upwards as she considers. She usually fakes a purposely bad accent to tease Byerly and the others, but she's heard everyone talk enough to have some grasp of things.]

I can do a Fereldan one. Orlesian isn't as good, but I can probably keep that up for like, one conversation. Especially with someone who isn't Orlesian.

People tell me I sound like a dwarf, though. Which is... weird. Definitely haven't figured out sounding like a Dalish elf, but that probably wouldn't work anyway.

No, that would not be useful. [ Even leaving her blatant humanity aside, there is almost no situation in which making people think she was Dalish would be beneficial, and even fewer Yseult's likely to think are worthwhile. And it is weird that so many rifters sound like dwarves. ]

Fereldan's near enough to Kirkwall, which is near enough to half the other Marches. Orlesian is difficult to keep up without turning into parody. But you can't pass as anything sounding like a dwarf. [ She fixes Ellie with a mildly challenging look. ] It will take work, and time. You'll have to spend days speaking in an accent at all times until it becomes second nature. And that's only one part of being someone else.

[ Abruptly she drops that look and lifts a hand, a wave of fingers dismissing the moment. ]

Sleep on it. We can talk when I return to Kirkwall.

Edited 2023-02-25 22:38 (UTC)

[Ellie nods to herself, her mind buzzing with the possibilities, the ideas there. She meets the challenging glance with a minute tip of her head to one side, acknowledging.

Taking a long sip of her tea, Ellie gathers herself; she looks a lot more together than she did when she came in. Finally, she puts the cup down, gets to her feet, hesitating with her hand on the back of the chair.]

Thanks. For this.

[ Yseult's smile is still only a small shift in her expression, no teeth in sight, but it's warm all the same. She inclines her head in acknowledgement. ]

Travel safely.

Edited 2023-02-28 23:28 (UTC)

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[closed] minrathous debrief

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cw: torture mentions

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