make me make me impressed

[deshabille]

Who: CAPRINE CREW ASSEMBLE
Broadcast: None!
Action: Caprine & visitors!
When: After this shuffle!

[Well, all things considered, the Caprine isn't the biggest shitshow of a ship in the Fleet. Right now. At this particular moment. There are worse places to end up!]

[At least that's what the crew will tell you, Varric. Except possibly Nightingale, who tries to keep it real.]

[IT'S A MINGLE, EVERYBODY INSIDE.]

Comments

OPEN

[merchantprince]

[Varric doesn't get uprooted often, but when he does, you can be assured that he is going to settle in as soon as possible. As comfortably as possible. He's still working on that second part, but as for the first part, he's already claimed a corner of the cargo bay as his own. His makeshift desk (a couple cinder blocks and some plywood) is organized-- for the moment-- and only has a few pages of written manuscript stacked on the top, but by god he will finish this thing at some point. His fancy author's chair is an upturned bucket with a spare pillow on it.

Look, it's a work in progress.

This is where he spends his time when he's not poking around the ship. One may also find him wrestling the beverage machine for tea, calibrating the biggest laser rifle in the armory room, or reclined on the bridge in the shooty chair with his feet on the nearest counter-- reading something on his comm device, of course.]

[experiencepoints]

[Wrestling the beverage machine will lead to a ball of wind smacking Varric upside the back of the head.]

Stop that.

[merchantprince]

[Varric rubs at the back of his head and looks around. He's expecting something to have hit him, not... air?]

What the hell?

[He sees Nightingale and squints.]

Don't get all bent out of shape, kid. I'm not trying to hurt it, I'm just smacking it around a little until it gets unjammed. Right now it doesn't want to give out tea.

[experiencepoints]

First of all, I'm not a kid, second of all, don't smack it around. If you break it, we might not get another one. Who are you, anyway?

[merchantprince]

Whatever, all you humans look the same to me. [He sighs in exasperation and jams a knife up the spout.] I'm not going to break it, I know what I'm doing. Bet I've been here longer than you have.

[He holds the cup under the dispenser. This time, the tea trickles out all nice and hot like it ought to be.]

See? I'm a professional.

[That doesn't answer her question though, and he knows it. But he takes his sweet time, making his tea and all of that. He lost all his ale when he disappeared the first time around and it's the only thing that keeps him sane sometimes.]

I guess you missed the confetti. [Sip.] Varric Tethras. Rogue, storyteller, and retired adventurer.

[experiencepoints]

[As much as she tries to make the kitchen work, she's actually spitefully mad when the beverage machine does work. She had wanted it to fail to prove her right.]

Oh, don't give me that shit. Whatever you are, you don't look so different from humans that you can't tell.

... "Retired", huh?

[merchantprince]

That's almost insulting. I'm easily identifiable as a dwarf, messere. Or did my lack of a forest-sized beard completely throw you off? I definitely have enough hair to make up for it in other places.

[He's cool as can be. Sorry he's not into tsunderes.]

That's right. Put up with enough shit for ten years and anyone will quit entirely.

[experiencepoints]

Dwarves don't-

[She stops herself, catching herself as she's about to finish saying something stupid. (And that's okay, she's not into men at all.)]

... Okay, not used to being on this side of this conversation, wow.

I'm Nightingale. Adventurer on... I guess you could call it a temporary hiatus.

[merchantprince]

[Varric raises his eyebrows at that sentence. Lucky for her, she doesn't finish it.]

Nightingale. [He'd consider that name belonging to a redheaded bard lady, not... some smart-assed blonde girl.] Let me guess: it's some kind of code name?

[experiencepoints]

... It's the name my team gave me. As far as I'm concerned, it's my real name. Gray Nightingale, of Takshaka.

[The full name doesn't make it sound any less fake, but it's important to her, and her tone makes it very plain that that is not up for discussion.]

[merchantprince]

[He doesn't push it. He's curious about what her story is-- he's a storyteller, after all-- but she's made it pretty clear from the start that she's a little prickly in places. He'll just have to needle her without getting needled himself.]

Huh. You look more yellow and purple to me.

[experiencepoints]

Team color was purple. I never really asked why the color names, that tradition was in place when I got there.

[merchantprince]

At least you look good in it.

[He sips his tea again, considering. He approaches this next bit very calmly.]

By the way... what did you hit me with? Some kind of spell?

[experiencepoints]

Uh, thanks.

Yeah, Wind. I'm a mage.

[merchantprince]

Okay. Since I'm supposed to be living with you or whatever for an indeterminable amount of time, I'm gonna be up front about this.

Magic isn't a toy. Healing is one thing, but throwing spells around will get people hurt. Plus it makes you look shadier than a man behind a bar handing out miracle medicine. There are people here who will kill you for abusing it and I really, really don't want to clean up another murder.

[He might be short, but his look says this is not something he's gonna budge on.]

Are we clear?

[experiencepoints]

... Uh. No. I've been using magic since I was like six, and the spell I used was Wind. It's a utility spell- It's literally incapable of doing damage.

[She looks equally unmoving, despite her size. She's so tired of people telling her about the right way to use magic, while having no clue where she's from or what her magic is really like. Magic is the only thing she has that she can think of as her own accomplishments, the only thing she can say she really enjoys. So yet another person- this time, a dwarf!- telling her to stop that, use her magic the way he says, grinds on her last nerve.]

The magic I use, and the magic from wherever you're from, are completely different things. I think most people here understand that. I don't know what's crawled up your ass about it, but you can dig it right back out, because I'm pretty sure I've used Wind almost every day since I learned it. And if someone wants to kill me for using magic so I can get shit off the high shelves, then they sound like they could use an introduction to Fire 3.

[merchantprince]

You think some random guy is gonna care when they toss you out the airlock? Magic on my world isn't the same as yours-- sure-- but not everyone is here to make friends. Not everyone has the patience or the ability to understand. Don't be naive. Naive gets you hurt.

[He takes his tea and heads toward the door.]

By the way, the last mage I knew who refused to control his magic? He ended up killing hundreds of people. I'm not being unreasonable by asking you to exercise a little caution around the people who saw it happen.

[experiencepoints]

We're stuck on the ship together. We're going to have to understand each other.

It's wind. It's under my control- Where I'm from, there's no such thing as casting magic you don't control. My magic is for fighting monsters, and protecting my friends- It was my entire purpose. I'm not giving that up on the off-chance someone decides to go insane at me over it.

[merchantprince]

[He pauses.]

I'm not telling you to give up magic. I'm suggesting that you don't go around tossing spells at people like they're candy-- especially if it's only for protecting people.

[Fenris can and will murder people. In fact, he murdered someone before. It's not hard to understand-- and Varric really just doesn't want her to become a pretty splat on the floor like Robin did.

But if she doesn't want to be responsible with it, that's fine. He's just... not going to tolerate it. That's one thing he really can't do. After Anders... Nope.

Varric Greatly Disapproves sry friend he's old and cranky.]

[nextlineis]

[Joseph frequents the cargo bay a lot sometimes just so he doesn't always feel like he's, you know, being squashed. He's tall and wide, these ships are definitely not all that designed for someone his size, but the cargo bay? That's a little roomier. So, he's wandered on in only to see Varric at his makeshift desk and chair. Joseph raises an eyebrow.]

Is that comfortable?

[merchantprince]

[He flips a pen along his fingers.]

Not really, but it beats trying to write on a bed. I'll pick up a chair when we hit the next waystation.

[The pen does little loops as he looks over Joseph.]

Do the cots even fit you?

[nextlineis]

[Joseph shrugs.]

I could sleep anywhere if I tried. [If trying was defined by just closing your eyes. Joseph's got talents, yo.] I don't know how the hell people put up with those tiny hatches though with individual rooms on other ships.

[It's the only thing he minds about hanging out with Caesar on the Tourist. At least the crew here share a room so it's not as bad as it could be. From his very tall perspective anyway.]

[merchantprince]

Right? I can barely fit, myself. Tight spaces underground really aren't my thing. I'll pass. Forever. Though having a space of my own would be nice for privacy, I'm not sure I can sacrifice my waistline.

[He sets his pen down.]

I'm Varric, by the way. I don't think I caught your name.

[nextlineis]

[He doesn't laugh, but he does grin at the joke about Varric's waistline all the same.]

Joseph. But you can call me Jojo.

[Yep. This 6'5", muscular as hell guy sure does go by Jojo.]

[merchantprince]

[Varric will call you whatever he damn well pleases! But until he has a nickname picked out, Jojo will have to do.]

Jojo. Cute nickname. It's a pleasure to meet you properly.

[......... Cute. Yeah, okay, sure.]

I should mention that I'm something of a businessman. I doubt any of my connections are good anymore, since it's been a while, but if you need something just let me know. I'll see what I can do.