faderift | [OPEN] Peace Bore a Heavy Price

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[OPEN] Peace Bore a Heavy Price

WHO: Everyone
WHAT: Aleron and Nathaniel are hosting an ~~BSG boxing match~~ open sparring session to work out personal griefs within the Inquisition.
WHEN: Drakonis 30, All Day
WHERE: Just outside Camp Shady (aka, the Warden's Camp outside Skyhold)
NOTES: More information, including the rules, can be found here. You do not have to have signed up to participate. Non-combatants can come and just cheer for their favorites or appreciate fine bodies getting physical. Please note in your subject line if you're spectating, healing, or open for fighting.

Just outside the site where the Wardens have established themselves, a space has been cleared. Its boundaries are marked with some wooden posts driven into the ground with loose ropes stretched out between them. A copy of the rules has been nailed to one of the posts. It flaps in the wind, but seems to stay in place with but little fraying as the day wears on:

1. No magic.
2. A volunteer healer will determine whether someone is fit for a bout.
3. Conduct the fight honorably. If someone surrenders the fight, it ends immediately and without question.
4. Don't deliberately incapacitate someone to the point where they won't be able to perform their duties after the fight is over.
5. All weapons must be blunt, even blades.
6. Challenged chooses the method of competition.

At the end of the fight, participants are to consider their issue resolved and move forward.

Off to one side, a basic triage is set up for combatants who have taken their licks. Volunteer healers are present to offer treatment for injuries and to determine who remains fit to fight. Their decision is absolute.

For the spectators, there is ample room to stand around and watch. One of the merchants from the pilgrim's encampment has caught wind of the impromptu event and decided it's a grand time to turn a profit. He's got a cookpot set up and is hawking fine treats like fennec-on-a-stick, druffalo kebabs, and smoked nug legs. He's also selling wooden cups of ale for five coppers, but it's questionable if there's more water or ale. Let the buyer beware.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mmm. Perhaps the matter we might settle is 'stop being such a depressing lump in the camp'. That is worth most challenges, yes?

[ He quirks a brow at Anders, curious. ]

Well, this should be good. Go ahead.

What, you stop being a depressing lump? I'd never take that away from you.

[He knows Zevran means him, and he knows Zevran knows he knows and so on. But he can make a better effort to drag himself out of his own thoughts. And Justice's thoughts, and the mire he gets stuck in.]

Seduction. Pick a target, and they get to judge who seduces them the best.

[Zevran has a clear advantage in that half the people here hate Anders, but he thinks the elf will play fair in person choice.]

Riiiiiight.

[ Long, drawn out, and wry- much like Alistair's twist on the word when he totally believes you, Anders. Completely. This is the face of someone that believes every single word. ]

...Now this seems terribly unfair. You do know I was trained for seduction? That it was my role in the Crows?

[ He'd been a prostitute, after a fashion, for a fair while in Antiva. ]

[Anders smirks for a moment before he blinks at the questions.]

What, that was your specific...

[He trails off and then shrugs. Asking anything about that would get a non-answer, because being trained for seduction specifically could only be a painful thing when it comes to the Crows. Zevran won't want to talk about it, much like there are parts of Anders' past he doesn't talk about.]

No. I'd thought all Crows had that as part of their skill-set, what with needing to get close to kill, but I'd not known you'd that as your focus. All the same, you've got the control for making it more or less fair as you'd like by your right to choose the target.

Among other things, yes.

[ Anyone else? He might not have told. But...Anders does not ask, does not judge. To him it doesn't matter.

A strange thing, to know there will be no pity. It is a marvelous change of pace. ]

Mmm. I know. Your Nathaniel. He seems swayed by charming men.

[His Nathaniel. That gets a snort. But, truth be told, he's had quite some time to observe the man and Zevran is indeed trying to give Anders a chance. It's a good choice.]

He's swayed by little save tiny mews when Hero of Purrelden is stuck on the underside of his cot and dangling by claws.

[And by a need for kindness, caring, what is right, and so many things that Anders will not say. Nate is, quite possibly, the best man he knows.]

I saw him earlier, over... there. [Anders points as soon as he spots the man.] Let's go over and explain the prize he's just won, shall we? And then I'll find another tent so I don't wind up stabbed tonight.

If he is swayed by anything, one of us shall find out.

[ Zevran is fairly certain they would be evenly matched in this. Anders for his familiarity, Zevran for his training. He pushes away from the fence and bows, gesturing for Anders to go before him. ]

You explain. I wish to watch the colors his face turns as you speak.

[Anders nods and leads the way, coming over to where Nate's watching what's going on.]

Would you like to be a judge of a challenge?

[His voice is entirely innocent, which, by now, Nate almost definitely knows means something's going on.]

I challenged Zevran to a friendly match. Of seduction. His choice of target. He was kind enough to pick one he thought would be weak to charming men.

[Anders pauses for effect.]

You.

[Nathaniel doesn't turn colors. He watches Anders sidelong as he explains, arms crossed, face neutral. There's a rather long pause at the end of it.]

You're not serious.

[He's not saying that in a "you just had a crazy idea and I'm trying to talk you out of it" way. He is genuinely certain these two men are pulling his leg.]

Terribly serious.

[ Hand to chest, eartips dipped, wholly wide eyed and solemn. ]

[For once, it's fun to be doubted.]

Would I joke about something like-- Don't answer that. Yes. I'm serious, and he's serious.

[The mischief dancing in his eyes fades a little after a moment.]

We'll not press this if you don't want to do it, though. I've no desire to make you uncomfortable.

[Gonna. Just. Squint for a minute. Weighing potential embarrassment against increased morale. It actually sounds kind of fun. And the joke's on them anyway--Nathaniel is not easy to seduce. It's practically a three-way competition.]

No touching below the waist. A draw will not result in a rematch. I am allowed to end it if I grow too uncomfortable.

Fair points, all.

[ He eyes Nathaniel (from the waist up) for a moment (respectfully) before nodding. He could swing his usual skills with such limitations. Not that he is going to immediately leap for the old 'Antivan Massage' trick, but getting to that point? Would be his personal goal.

Nathaniel looked as though he needed one anyway. ]

Anders?

Those work for me as well.

[No ass grabbing, alas, but he can easily work within those rules. He knows the man. He's actually got a decent shot.]

Two things. One, is magic allowed in this one? And should we take turns, a move at a time?

[He glances at Zevran.] Depends. Is magic an advantage you both have?

I have been told my hands are quite magical- but no.

Then no magic.

[And since he's not going to use Zevran's past to gain an advantage, it looks like Anders' skill set will be limited. He sighs.]

Fine. No magic. Even though I am magic. Turns? It would lessen any advantages that come from watching or from the person going first already working Nate up for the second.

Turns with time in between, I should think. To give him time to cool off afterward should things become...heated.

[ Which they might. Zevran knows his skills, after all, and Anders is terribly charming. ]

You're both very optimistic. [He gives a tic of his chin.] Anders, you're first.

I'm first? You mean all I had to do after months and months of flirting was come up with a challenge, and then...

[He shakes his head, smile saying that he's clearly teasing as he closes the distance between them. No touching below the waist means that he leans forward rather than completely crowding Nate. Anders' hand goes to Nate's cheek, thumb rubbing along it as he meets the archer's eyes.]

Is there a reason I shouldn't be optimistic?

[His voice is low and promising, just barely above a whisper.]

I know you, Nate.

[He slides his hand to cup the back of the archer's head as he comes in close... to brush his lips lightly over Nate's cheekbone and not his lips. Direct is not the name of the game here.]

I find you beyond impressive, and you know I mean that.

[Another light touch of lips to cheekbone, higher this time, closer to Nate's ear, and Anders steps back and raises an eyebrow at Zevran. Damn straight Anders is going to use everything he knows. Bring it, Crow.]

[Well, all right. Anders doesn't have any moves Nathaniel hasn't seen, he supposes, but something still makes him blush when his voice goes low like that. But the blush fades fairly quickly when Anders touches him and it...it's not weird. Or uncomfortable. It almost feels familiar. Nathaniel remains stone-still during the near-kiss, the touch of lips against his cheek, the murmur in his ear as if unmoved. He's reminding himself, mentally, that this is all an act. If Anders really wanted him, he would have moved well before now.]

Not bad, [he says lightly.] Personal, but safe. Still, you're just getting warmed up.

Edited 2016-04-12 23:36 (UTC)

Oh ho, he has charms. Who knew?

[ Zevran crackles a soft laugh as Anders steps away, speaking only after Nathaniel seems to have settled himself again. Breaking the spell early- well that would be cheating and this? Is meant to be done in all due fairness. ]

Whenever you are ready, Ser, I shall take my turn.

Go ahead.

[ Zevran does not have the benefit of knowing Nathaniel all that well, nor the benefit of living with the man- but observation counts for a great deal. Closeness, a low pitched voice, a roundabout means of getting to the point. He considers his options for a moment, eye going warm and half lidded as his gaze drags from Nathaniel's feet in a long line to his face.

No touching below the waist- that he can do. But there were no rules about looking. ]

There are marvelous things to be said of longbowmen. Their strength, their endurance- [ He takes a step closer, not quite as deep into Nathaniel's space as Anders had been but close enough to slip a hand out and curl his fingers about Nathaniel's wrist, tugging it up to hold between his hands. Callouses meet callouses as he traces the line of Nate's palm, voice low and intimate and considering. ] The deftness of hand, keenness of eye.

[ Zevran meets Nathaniel's gaze as he lifts his hand, brushing his lips to the thin skin of his inner wrist, breath a wash as he speaks against his pulse. ] And you are a marvel all your own, are you not?

[ He releases Nate's hand with one last soft kiss to his palm before stepping back, posture going from sultry to casual in a heartbeat. ]

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