driftfleet | inquisitor's path 1: well, shit

Entry tags:

inquisitor's path 1: well, shit

Who: Jove Lavellan
Broadcast: fleetwide video
Action: the marsiva
When: right now!!

Well.

[It's half breathless, half amused, and said with something of a strained grin. Why does weird shit keep happening to her. At least this time when she's waking up there's no chains around her wrists or incredibly intimidating women shouting questions at her. Her hand aches dimly, but it's nowhere near as bad as she's used to. She must be very far from home if she can't feel any rifts nearby.]

Could someone tell me what year it is? One moment you're jumping through a magical mirror and now here I am in... whatever this is.

I'm fairly certain it's not the Fade and I don't feel particularly dead.

[And then, more quietly,]

Cassandra is going to kill me.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

My goodness, but those are some fascinating marks on your face. Might I ask what they are?

[Isn't he forward. Of course, considering his similarly uncommon features it's a bit hard to be too terribly offended and the question has certainly been asked in worse ways.]

They're markings to honor the elven gods, where I come from. We call them vallaslin.

How lovely! Are they paint, or tattooed?

[They're honest questions, but meant to be complimentary-- the markings are wonderful, as far as Garak is concerned.]

My people used to do such a thing themselves-- though now our women mostly wear them for make-up.

[In that case, the questions are quite refreshing.]

They're tattooed, to show that an elf has reached the age of maturity. We must sit in silence as they're applied and if we cry out, the process stops. Once the vallaslin is complete, the clan sees us as adults who are ready to take on the responsibilities of adulthood.

[And now she's curious herself, so hopefully he won't mind some questions in return.]

Were your markings anything like that?

[His smile grows-- it's fascinating, frankly.]

Mm, no, they were more like paint. Right here-- [He brushes his fingers over the spoon-like indent on his forehead] --blue paint would be applied. To enhance the area, really. It used to be a mark of royalty or nobility-- if one had money enough to spend it on the paint, one clearly was wealthy-- but now it's a far more common thing.

Was it the color that indicated royalty, or the placement?

[She's trying to keep her enthusiasm under wraps, but it may not be working all that well.]

The color, my dear. Usually a deep blue color.

[He's admittedly charmed-- any interest at all is flattering.]

Edited 2015-02-06 02:55 (UTC)

The vallaslin can be in many different colors, so perhaps it is similar. I- Oh.

[She got entirely caught up in that, didn't she?]

I'm sorry, my name is Jove. I think I skipped over the introductions.

Elim Garak.

[He smiles at her.]

It's quite a delight to meet you, my dear. I should love to compare cultural notes.

I'll answer any questions you might have, then.

And I you-- would you like an exchange, then?

[He gestures.]

I take it elves live alongside with humans-- are there any other species?

Some elves do. They're seen as... well, the humans don't treat them particularly well. They live in less desirable sections of major cities called Alienages and it- suffice to say, you seldom hear good stories of an elf's time in the Alienage.

My people are Dalish, and we live away from humans. Instead of settling in one place we travel as the weather changes and we rarely stay in one place long.

[The easier to avoid all those icky humans, you understand. Jove has come to appreciate them, but it hadn't been an easy thing to forget a history of violence against elves.]

As for other races, I've met dwarves like Varric and the Qunari. They're... well, very large and have horns, somewhat like dragons do. You may be better off asking Varric about the dwarves though, I hadn't had much exposure to them before meeting him.

[It's fascinating to hear-- he does love to hear of other cultures.]

I don't know if I could live in such a fashion as you-- it sounds lovely, but I'm more for cities than the country. Might I hear more about it?

[She misses her people terribly, so perhaps that's why this is so easy to talk about, to gush over.]

We travel in carriages called aravels, pulled by halla. They're like deer, but pure white with horns that curl and twist beautifully. The aravels are quite small, with enough room for one family, but more often than not we all end up sleeping under the stars when we camp at night. As we travel our hunters range far from the procession, but all they have to do is look for the sails of the aravels. They're bright red, and they stand so tall that you can see them from miles away.

It sounds wonderful, Jove. I should imagine it's a rather peaceful life. Were you a hunter, then?

It was peaceful most of the time, as long as we stayed away from humans. There were times we had to defend ourselves from them, but attacks weren't as frequent as they could have been.

[His question gets a laugh, though, and she shakes her head as she lifts a hand up. Purple lightning gathers between her fingers, arcing between them before gathering into a ball and dissipating.]

I'm a mage, actually. Each clan is lead by a mage, our Keeper. The Keeper chooses an apprentice to personally instruct, teaching us all the stories of our past so that we can lead in the future and pass on what we know, and we're called the First. I was First of my clan.

Now, now, that is a clever trick. And a rather noteworthy position. Though I suppose it puts your clan in rather an awkward position, being without their First.

[That's something she had put a lot of time into not thinking about, the results of her having to be away from her clan. It had been months now, and she had undoubtedly been replaced once word had reached her Keeper of Jove's new position with the Inquisition. Even if she did return, who could say if she would get that back?

Still, she tries to stay cheerful for this conversation. She can feel sorry for herself later.]

I imagine they'll have found a way to get along without me. Elves are very resourceful, after all. We can get through just about anything.

Indeed, I'm sure. And perhaps you'll find a way home in only a few weeks, hm?

It's possible, but I know better than to hold my breath waiting for something like that.

[In an attempt to break the somber mood this has fallen into, Jove smiles and shakes her head.]

But here I've gone on about my own people long enough. Would you tell me of yours now?

Surely. Do you wish to know something in particular? In general . . . Cardassians are a pragmatic people-- our devotion is to the State, not the individual-- and yet somehow manage to create the most wonderful and beautiful architecture.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

inquisitor's path 1: well, shit

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;