OTA | And She Was

[coquettish_trees]

WHO: Alexandrie, et al
WHAT: Slice of life and catch-up catch-all!
WHEN: Mostly now~
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: Adding as I go! ♥

The Lady Alexandrie's return to Kirkwall society is not so much a splash as a gentle slip into the water; for a long while, she was gone. Then, of a sudden, she isn't. She resumes her patterns with little fuss: goes to the theatre, frequents the Hightown market, can be found again in good weather wherever there is a good vantage point to paint the sea, the gloves she wears to shield her fingers from the cold doing little to hinder her practiced brushstrokes.

She does not come yet to the Gallows, but does go often to the docks, and anyone wearing Riftwatch colours may well find themselves the object of the lady's benign scrutiny. Perhaps she's vaguely recognizable from someone's reminiscence. Perhaps she's just another member of the Orlesian gentry being a bit nosy. Either way, she is here.

[ Here and happy to wildcard too; send ideas~ ]

Comments

[coquettish_trees]

I am indeed intimately acquainted with the traits.

[ The muted amusement in tone and expression suggest that perhaps she has been known to be stubborn, spiteful, and gently acidic. ]

And yes, [ at least as far as new acquaintances need know, ] I am. As the war changes trade, the estate my family holds and the lands we steward have become more advantageously placed. I cannot say I am fully pleased to be reaping success on the misfortune of others, but we have goods and the market desires them. I should be doing poorly by my family and those we serve to not make the attempt.

[favoriteanalyst]

What a shame. We could always use more hands that want to see us succeed. But family comes first. [He wouldn't know much about that, anymore.] What was it that you did while you were with us? A diplomat, negotiating for goods?

[coquettish_trees]

[ Family comes first.

She had wondered often, in the intervening time, which family. Blood had called, and so she'd packed and left behind the family her heart had found. ]

My happiest hours here were spent at a desk in the Jeshavis office translating correspondence, journals, anything we 'happened' to come across that might hold information of note. Some of the texts in circulation may still bear my handwriting.

In more fraught circumstances, I employed the ebullient perfidy that is my birthright— [ As she appears now, none with the knowledge of them could mistake her as anything but an Orlesian peer and, if the little rueful smile is to be credited, one who knows well enough what sort of creature she was crafted to be— ] and for the most fraught, the rather rough art of combat medicine.

And your hours? How are they occupied?

[favoriteanalyst]

[He doesn't laugh at ebullient perfidy, though it's a near thing. Not because he thinks it silly for a woman to use such floral language, no, Maker forbid, but because such floral language tends to be rare among their sort. Plenty are educated. Plenty are also not.]

My hours are spent mostly tending to the books and what goes in and out of the library, but also, of late, what goes in and out of the archives. I'm sure I'll have come across your handwriting, then, when familiarizing myself with the contents of the archive. And with however the poor sob before me tried to organize anything.

Though I'm a fair hand at fighting when the need calls for it. Bookworm still attached to his sword sometimes.