faderift | Discretion?

WHO: Maevaris Tilani and YOU.
WHAT: Maevaris finally reaches Skyhold.
WHEN: Third week of Harvestmere
WHERE: A large spectacle of a tent that she has set up in the Courtyard; Around Skyhold In General
NOTES: Maevaris can be found all over Skyhold after her arrival, so feel free to wildcard me! Points of interest would be the tavern, library, or great hall. Prose or brackets are fine.

If there is one inconvenience to be associated with nobility, it is formality. Everything is a process. What should be a simple decision can take months of planning and preparation and considering the opinions of anyone and everyone of importance. Maevaris making the choice to journey to Skyhold is no exception, and by the time she is set to arrive, there is a mountain’s worth of paperwork that documents every detail of her departure. Appropriate, given that her final destination is an actual mountain.

Letters upon more letters are exchanged, bags upon more bags are packed, and once she is as sure as she can be that her affairs at home have been left in capable hands, she leaves with an entourage fitting of her station. The journey is long and at least mildly cumbersome, by her standards, though even that comes to an end eventually. Formalities and travel times be damned, she makes it. The Inquisition is going to experience the awe and wonder that is Maevaris Tilani, yet.

There are no trumpets announcing her entrance, nor is there a red carpet paving her way. She is followed by a host of people carrying her belongings, but the event appears to be otherwise average in nature. It is nightfall when her company settles in, and they quickly make themselves scarce, working away on something by the light of the moon in an empty corner of the grounds. All in all, it is not nearly as flashy an arrival as one might expect from a magister of her reputation.

By the light of day, her living quarters tell another story.

A large, tucked away section of the Skyhold courtyard that was previously unused is now home to a tent. A giant, gaudy tent, draped in expensive fabrics and immediately offensive to the eye. One that is intimately familiar with Tevinter may note that the style is distinctly reflective of the country, the shapes and colors mirroring their current trends of high fashion. Anyone else is likely to have any number of impressions, ranging from the structure being one of magnificence and beauty to something that is utterly cringe-worthy. One fact remains a constant: It commands attention. The flash is now in full effect.

For those seeking an audience with the mysterious tent’s owner that wish to be polite, there is a bell hanging from a tassel at the entrance that is just waiting to be rung. For those with less manners—or perhaps less of an eye for details—there does not appear to be anything stopping them from barging right on in.

For all its ornaments and imposing presence, it is only a tent, after all.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Alright, the tent has her amazed and a little curious. Korrin's already met one she believes to be the inhabitant, given the Tevinter design and gaudiness. Who else could it be but the charming, impeccably-dressed magister she met the other night? Though there were other things she could be doing with her time, the Vashoth mage told herself that she had earned a break. More and more of Skyhold is rising to inhabitable standards and she's played no small part in that. So why not take a moment to socialize and see how the magister is settling in?

With that justification, Korrin approaches the tent once she's had a moment to absorb it in all its glory. Spotting the bell and deciding that it would be more polite than just calling out, she rings it.

“Finally, someone with manners— Come in, come in! I was beginning to think that Fereldans have a bias against bells. Too dainty for their tastes.”

Maevaris is sitting on an appropriately decorative couch when Korrin enters. Her hands are occupied, one with a letter and the other with a magnifying glass. Both are abandoned when her guest is spotted, however, and she sets them down onto a small pile of envelopes on the ground next to the couch. Her face lights up as she stands, both surprised and delighted by her company.

“Korrin! I see your streak of defying expectations continues. I am so pleased. To see you in a place where I can hear my own thoughts makes it all the sweeter.”

There are a few chairs set about in addition to the couch, if Korrin so chooses to take a seat. The interior is as lavish as the outside suggests, full of furniture that seems like it would be better suited to a castle.

"I guess it helps that I'm not Fereldan, then." Korrin flashes a smile as she enters, taking care not to knock aside anything or otherwise disturb the lavish within the tent. It's far more lavish than Korrin could ever imagine having for herself, but it suits the magister perfectly, that much is clear.

She'll take a seat after a good look around, since one didn't set up a tent like this without the expectation that it be admired. "I didn't think to ask where you'd set up in Skyhold, earlier, but upon seeing the exterior, I knew it had to be yours. Nothing else would do, would it?"

“It most certainly does.” Maevaris smirks and inflects in a way that implies that helps with much more than bells, without her having to say so. That would just make it tasteless. “Where are you from? I never did ask.”

When Korrin makes no immediate move for the couch, the magister takes it as a sign to stretch her legs out over most of its length. Her arms frame the back of it, and she rolls her shoulders idly as she settles into her new position. “This is only temporary, believe it or not. I’m overseeing the repairs of one of Skyhold’s many ruined towers. That will be my eventual home away from home. But, for now... I suppose this will do.”

Maevaris looks about the tent herself as if she’s only now affirming the quality, before eventually settling her gaze on Korrin. “Can I get you anything?”

"You know, I'm tired of the local brews. If you brought something native to your own lands, I'd be open to trying it." For all that Korrin's traveled nearly every other part of Thedas, she's never actually been to Tevinter itself. Not past the border, anyway. So it's always held some sort of exotic flare for her, which Maevaris is doing nothing to discourage given both her attire and the furnishings of the tent.

"I'm a Marcher, more or less. Getting more specific than that isn't easy, not when I've always been on the road. I suppose if you really want a specific place, it might be Ostwick now, just for having relatives near it." Korrin shrugs, not having any issue with Ostwick but she hardly has a hometown fondness for it.

She flashes a grin as the image of Maevaris in a tower is not hard to imagine at all. "I can see you as a tower sort of person. You can't come to Skyhold and not take advantage of the magnificent view."

“Of course I have something native! What kind of magister do you take me for?” Maevaris feigns offense, sinking into the couch cushions as if she is taken aback before she laughs it off. “You’ll have to be more specific than that. Do you want something mild and pleasant, or something stronger? You strike me as the strong type, but it’s only polite to ask.”

She nods along to Korrin’s explanation, nonchalantly tapping her fingers on the back of the couch. For all her dramatics, she does look genuinely interested. “Can’t say I’m much familiar with the Marches. I’m not awfully fond of travelling often. I like to put down roots.” Yet here she is, situated in the South. Will the irony never cease? She pauses, as if to soak it in. “Do you like it? Life on the road? Or do you only do it out of necessity?”

An arm is bent at the elbow so Maevaris can examine her nails. “The view is nice... If you like mountains. I like the height. Something about towering over others...” She looks over her hand to stare directly at Korrin, chin tilted upwards. That smirk still hasn’t left. “It’s very empowering.”

That provokes a throaty laugh from Korrin, who no doubt can understand something about appreciating heights. "Fair enough. I admit, it has its uses; intimidating those who deserve it, impressing others. Sure, it can be isolating, but there are perks." If you're going to be different, why not revel in it? At least that's Korrin's way of thinking, as she's long ago gotten over any awkwardness about standing out.

She leans back, shrugging as she mulls over the questions asked. "I've never known anything else. To me, it'd be weird to stay in one place for very long. It is what it is. Though if there is lasting change for Vashoth and mage alike in the South, we'll see. I'm not a Circle mage, as you might have guessed, so it's not as though staying put anywhere for long was ever a great idea."

Whether they would even bother with Vashoth is another idea, but Korrin's not going to give them the chance, if the Circles ever return. Oh, right, drinks. "And you're not wrong, something stronger is fine with me. Most human brews honestly don't affect me much unless I'm actually trying to become intoxicated, so I'm not worried about that."

Discretion?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject