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O3 ♚ 40,000 MEN AND WOMEN EVERY DAY
WHO: Marcel Gerard & you!
WHAT: Open and closed log for Marcel kicking around Skyhold. The closed starters will be down in the comments, the open starters in the entry below the cut.
WHEN: February to March 2016!
WHERE: Various
NOTES: Potentially some PG-13-rated violence or language, nothing else.
WHAT: Open and closed log for Marcel kicking around Skyhold. The closed starters will be down in the comments, the open starters in the entry below the cut.
WHEN: February to March 2016!
WHERE: Various
NOTES: Potentially some PG-13-rated violence or language, nothing else.
[open] tavern
By now, Marcel has moved on from lifting heavy boxes. Not that he had any particular objection that work-- he still does sometimes, lending his better-than-human strength to the early morning task of shifting supplies. However, he has also managed to insinuate himself in the more bureaucratic management of the Tavern, making some use out of his education with letters and numbers.[open] sparring forever
Every few nights and a couple of mornings, too, he is the one in the back office, pouring over ledger. Quill in hand, a piece of scratch paper laddered with numbers. His writing is impeccable, pausing only now and then to correct his hard-won cursive into something a little easier for Thedosians to interpret. His errors are far and few between, marked out with a single line that's as straight as a ruler. Come in then, and you're wont to interrupt a reverie, but a break is welcome.
Other evenings, he's at the bar. He laughs easily, offers to buy you an ale. The bartender jokes with him about where his paycheck goes-- first ham for the Rifter meet, and now free drinks for anybody who happens to wander by? But it's an easy ribbing, and he doesn't mind.
Other times, he has a sword in hand.wildcard
There's one Vahshoth that he's been squaring off against consistently, and they've changed it up from wrestling as of late. The two men can be found in the courtyard, sun sinking low over the rooftops. They charge, and metal rings from metal, snaps sparks into the brisk mountain air. Sometimes they laugh. Occasionally, there's a grimace-- the tip of a sword slipping through skin, called break, the healer standing by rolling his eyes. But perhaps more interesting than that, is the banter about the Inquisition.
Marcel has had more questions since the Rifter meeting, but the only one his Vahshoth friend has to ask, between drinks of water and the stretches for cooldown afterward, is always: "When will you join the Inquisition?"
And the vampire's answer, easily overheard: "Like the Good Book says. There's a time for everything." Punctuated with a wag of his eyebrows, playful, but not insincere.
choose your own adventure \o/
no subject
"Well, I mean, a little construction around, some shooting--I'm picking up the crossbow, cuz, closest thing they've got here to a gun. There's eating, and sleeping, and I've been looking over a lot of maps and you would think maybe they'd have a more general view of the whole planet, but no, it's just a big chunk of continent, some islands, and then it just kinda stops south and west. If I were totally down for getting eaten by dragons and misunderstanding cultural differences, I might almost want to try exploring more."
cw umm silly vulgar ufo references?
"How different are dragons and space aliens, really? To be honest, in my time, the UFOs-- uh. That's, Unidentified Flying Objects, have a way harder reputation." Marcel angles him a glance, a little teasing, but mostly amused. He settles the cauldron on a metal plate, then slides over to the cookfire. Fetches up a few coals in the little metal shovel, to settle under the cauldron.
With dignity, he adds, "It's the difference between fire and probing."
and now there's weird kink mentions
How weird does he want this to get? Maybe take it to the weirdness express. Since they're talking aliens. "They don't always kill you. Kind of ran into a cult-ish situation once? Long story short one of my guys had a kid because aliens. I mean he. had the kid. Ugly lil bastard. Pretty sure he's dead. The alien kid, not my buddy." Nobody ever let Tucker know he was called a buddy. That's, like, in the bro code or something. "And if a dragon can do something like that here, then I bet this place has some weird-ass porn."
no subject
Besides, there is so much other weird-ass shit to talk about. "Ummmmm," he says. "I haven't heard of dragons knocking anybody up-- I'm sorry. Did your friend Tucker impregnate an alien? Is that what you're kind of talking around right now?" One of Marcel's eyebrows goes way up, wry, slightly amused, slightly horrified, not as horrified as an ordinary man would be. After all, vampires reproduce primarily through murder.
no subject
Welcome, Marcel. Welcome to the Blue life.