driftfleet | 004 // the house of sin

Entry tags:

004 // the house of sin

Who: Dorian and assorted guests
Broadcast: Fleet-wide, 3/10
Action: In a villa practically in the forest (THE HOUSE OF SIN)
When: Broadcast- 3/10 // Action- 3/9-3/31? Until we leave.

Broadcast:

[The broadcast goes out on 3/10, and Dorian smirks a bit into the feed.]

I believe I've secured lodging for myself, with room enough for several others. If you need a place to stay, do let me know. It's a quaint little villa a bit outside of town. ...please don't mind the suspicious glances, I assure you, I've done nothing entirely against the guidelines that were set.

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Action:

[Dorian has secured a villa, but the residents of Mor don't seem too keen on having an evil mage for a neighbor. As the month goes on, more and more villagers will show up to stand at the gates of the villa and threaten to come in after the "evil wizard".

Maybe he shouldn't have gone so overboard with the whole "contacting the spirits of the dead" thing.]

((OOC: Mingle post for the House of Sin. We'll pretend there are enough rooms in here for everyone! Even if you character only drops by to rest their feet a bit, everyone is welcome to visit and stay the night if they want.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Let me make a guess. Dorian?

[ He's not even a little bit surprised. It would be the Tevinter mage that gets them into more and more trouble no matter where they go and he shakes his head, looking out over at the people. He could try and reason with them, he supposed, but it did feel a little pointless. ]

It's not in my nature to name names, I'm afraid. I will tell you it isn't Cullen or Fenris they're after, though.

[She would never give Dorian away to anyone else, but it's impossible not to see exactly who is at fault in this case.]

They haven't tried to burn the place down yet, so we have that in our favor. Are you busy today?

Of course not.

[ Which, of course, means it is Dorian. He doesn't say anything more, though, turning back to face the crowd. ]

If they did I might manage a Barrier for us, if nothing else.

[ Which is followed by a hum. ]

Not at all. Are you, lethallan?

You might. I missed that sense of humor.

[Because he does have one, even if at first glance it might not seem likely. He had the driest wit and had always been surprisingly quick to crack a joke if he saw the place for one, it had always been one of her favorite traits of his.

She lifts a hand up to show the coinpurse there, fit to burst with its contents. She hadn't been lying about having more than enough to outfit her people, okay.]

I'm going to the market to buy paints. Want to come along?

I can make no promises, da'len. Who knows how far my magic could reach.

[ He's teasing, of course, nudging at her gently and poking fun before he looks back out over at the people. He makes jokes, cracking and quick, and they disappear as quickly as they come.

His eyes land on the coins and he pauses, surprised, before he nods. The Inquisitor, his, at least, had always been generous. ]

I would love that.

[She's honestly a little surprised by that response, that he'd love to. It's just a little trip out to shop, what's to love about that? Still, she can't really deny she loves the chance to spend more time with him too. What a pair.]

Good, then. If there's anything else you might need, we can look for that too. As I said, there's no way to know if we'll see a place so close to our own time again, so stocking up now seems in our best interests.

[There's a part of her that would like to stay in this little villa for as long as she can with the people who have gathered to it with her, but the end of the month is quickly approaching and each day sees her checking and rechecking to be sure she has every possible thing she could need. Trinkets and dried fruits, enchanted items for crafting, appropriately themed gifts for any namedays that might pass on the ships. You can never overprepare, right?]

I've never held much regard for material things, da'len. Perhaps you know.

[ Which is true. His rotunda had been sparse, save for books he had requested and items he had picked up to study, and the backpack he carried was for magic and bedrolls. He didn't have much in the way of personal items and that was as much as a secret as the rest of it; why did he have so little?

Still, he nods his head, stepping back and away from the window, careful to not let her catch his distraction as he looks back over at the gathering storm. ]

Shall we?

[He may have started a bad habit in the forest, because she reaches for his hand without thinking and links their fingers together as she moves toward the door.]

That doesn't mean you won't need a new shirt somewhere down the line, lethallin. But we'll focus on the paints if you're so set in your ways. I wouldn't want you to have to deal with things to weigh you down if you'd rather roam the hills forever.

[ His eyes drop down to their hands but, at least for now, he says nothing of it. It's companionable, nice, and it makes him soften. ]

I do know how to stitch.

[ Look at him, making a joke. ]

Paints it shall be and, in return, you will let me decorate your quarters for you.

[And she laughs, because it was a good joke. She nearly teases him, reminds him of Vivienne's claims that he looked something like a hobo, but that had never been kind. Instead she just nods like it's a very serious point he's just made.]

I'll remember that the next time I've a tear that needs mending, my stitching is horrible.

Have you thought of what you'll paint yet?

[ He gives her another smile, this one lighter; it's easier to joke and tease, to pretend he isn't careful with each step to not betray what he knows is to come in her future. ]

That depends on what you want, I imagine. Something more than just flowers and fields?

[ He makes a soft noise. ]

Perhaps something akin to the elves of old, the memories of their homes I once saw.

I think I've filled it with as many flowers and fields as it can take.

[But oh, she likes that other suggestion, and even the voices of Mythal's servants rush against her ears like they want to agree as well.]

I'd like that. I'm afraid I'd have to ask you to tell me the stories of what you're painting as you work, though. Would that be a distraction?

Then I'll have to make sure not to draw attention from that.

[ He watches, careful for her reaction, as if testing, before his features break into a smile. ]

It would be no more distracting than trying to read while hearing a certain mage complain about his own lack of resources.

[ (Dorian is loud as fuck when Solas is trying to read.) ]

[Her reaction is to laugh, to squeeze his hand lightly.]

He's always been horrible about the library. I caught him throwing books over the balcony once, I hope they never hit you.

[ The noise he makes is practically distraught. ]

If I had seem him I'd have done more than throw them back.

[Solas stop you're being too cute.]

Now I have to ask. What would you have done, hahren?

[ NEVER. ]

I would have been forced to educate him on how to treat books.

[ With stern words and fury, of course. ]

[She gives a mock shudder, shaking her head.]

The poor man. I wouldn't wish that fate on my worst enemies.

[The marketplace isn't terribly far from the villa, so it doesn't take long before they're leaving the forest to wind through where all the stalls are set up.]

Now then, paints. Are there any tricks to finding the high quality ones?

[ His gaze turns to her, definitely amused. ]

So says the woman that calls me hahren.

[ See, he can tease too. ]

As long as they have not be watered down they should be fine.

I know better than to abuse books where you might catch me, lethallin.

[And they make quite a sight, two elves hand in hand doing some afternoon shopping for paint of all things, but it's nice. Simple in a way things tend to not be, now that she's Inquisitor.]

And what about brushes? Do you need special brushes as well?

Then you have nothing to worry about.

[ It is simple. He barely says anything about their linked fingers, looking around the crowds. ]

Large and small. Not too many, I can reuse them.

[There aren't many stalls with things that look like they're for crafting paintings, and by the time they get close to the end of the marketplace Jove is starting to worry. What if there are no paints? What if she's talked this up and gotten them both excited for his paintings only for-

But then, in the second to last stall, there's a man with canvases and frames propped up against the wood, and there sitting plainly in sight is a whole collection of paints in pots and little bottles, full sets of colors, brushes, spatulas, and Jove squeezes Solas's hand in her excitement.]

Look, there are some!

[ Solas watches her with fond amusement; the idea of buying paints is, at least to him, secondary to the pleasure of being in her company. She is a bright, excited soul and he relishes that, allows himself to bask in her company and let it refresh him. He doesn't worry about her finding out the truth, about her learning of his so-called betrayal; he simply relaxes.

When they do spot the paints he does smile, of course, and urges her to follow as he walks forward. ]

Then let us examine, shall we?

[She isn't considering what she's doing very closely as she covers the hand she's holding with her other one, clasping his between both of hers as she shuffles through the crowd along with him to look over the selection at his fingertips. It just feels natural, comfortable, and the chance to spoil Solas like this has never really come up before.

She's incredibly happy with the development, sue her.]

You know, all this talk about paint and I don't even know your favorite color.

[ ... Ah.

Solas doesn't do much more than allow her to do as she pleases, his expression flickering over her as he takes her in. Slowly, he tilts his head, his lips turning into a soft, careful smile. Something warm overcomes him, something he refuses to put a name to for fear of admitting what it might be.

Instead, he just speaks. ]

I've never thought about it.

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