driftfleet | open.

Entry tags:

open.

Who: Merrill.
Broadcast: Fleet-wide.
Action: SS First Breath, whenever.
When: APR 12 - 18.

Oh. Oh dear.

[ Is it a Welsh pixie? It certainly sounds like one. Pointed ears, short black hair, intricate tattoos across the angular plains of her face. But no, despite the accent, Merrill is neither Welsh, nor pixie.

Currently she's balancing on one bare foot, trying to shake something brown and sloppy off the other. It would be easy to jump to the wrong conclusion at first, but everyone gets a dessert when they arrive, so closer examination will make it clear that she's only stepped in chocolate cream.

Though really, how she's managed that is anyone's guess. ]

I am... so sorry. It wasn't something important, was it? Eugh, it's all slimy.

[ Given she took a while to get used to Kirkwall, a couple of days prowling about the Marsiva and her brand new augment really aren't adequate preparation for the sleek metal and digital displays of a spaceship.

Though later, she might be found in Engineering, trying to work out how she knows anything at all about this strange contraption, but also delighting in the fact that she has all this new knowledge, and more right there to learn about. Merrill isn't very good with people, but she loves magic, and to her view all of this technology isn't too different.

Or you can always call her once she's washed off her feet. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh! Well. That's good then, I suppose.

[ A little flustered. ]

I do hope I can be just as charming.

You certainly already are! I assure you, you're quite darling. I do hope I get to see your lovely face in person.

[A soft chuckle.

Really, he just likes to see her flustered. That's rude, Dorian. But she reminds him of a kitten, in a way. Innocent and darling.]

That's very— you can, if you'd like! I mean, I'm here, and you're... wherever you are, but it can't be that far, and I think I might know how to fly one of these things, which is strange because I've certainly never seen anything like it in my life. Which you probably already knew. Shut up, Merrill.

[ The tips of her little ears are going pink. You're a cruel man, Dorian Pavus. ]

Oh no, by all means, keep talking if you wish!

[He takes a drink of something does it look like wine? It's wine. He's having fruit salad for dinner.]

And you were the First of your clan, if I remember correctly?

[ Oh. If before she was all sweetness and light, on the verge of outright blushing, now there are stormclouds. She fidgets a little, unhappily. ]

I used to be. But I... left.

[Ah, that was an awkward misstep. He chuckles, nearly a scoff, at his own gracelessness.]

Ah, forgive me if I misspoke. I didn't mean to remind you of something unpleasant.

[And then, a small change of subject.]

I assume that you will be pleased that Hawke is here?

It's all right.

[ Yes, Hawke is a much better subject, a reminder that there's still family to be had. ]

Is he?

[ That's good news, honestly; she gets a bit lost without Hawke (well, sometimes she gets a bit lost with Hawke, but she can never tell until Hawke admits it afterwards, that they weren't just going for a pleasantly scenic route around the Wounded Coast. Merrill presses her palms together. ]

Do you know him?

[ That pleases her a lot too, though it makes sense, if he's from Tevinter; this place is far from Thedas, and strange, so they should all stick together. ]

I do, though I'm afraid not as well as I would like to.

[Dorian chuckles softly.]

Well, it's probably not hard to get to know him. Hawke likes everyone, honestly. Except some of the meaner Templars, and I don't think they have Templars in Tevinter, do they? Honestly, I've always thought it sounded quite nice.

What? Nice, Tevinter? That's not a word I often hear used to describe it. And yes, we have Templars, though they don't exactly do the same countering magic bit or whatever it is they do down South. That would cause a dreadful fuss, if they did.

[He scoffs, amused.]

Well, as nice as any city can be. Our clan stopped near Tevinter ruins, once, and I'm sure once you cleared out all the giant spiders and bones and darkspawn they would have looked lovely. I don't really think I approve of slavery, though. And I don't really like cities all that much. Are there any good forests, in Tevinter?

I'm certain there are, but I stuck to the cities, generally.

[He signs a bit, shaking his head.]

Vinhedis, what the fuck is with Hawke's companions that you're so fond of the idea of Tevinter? Fenris seems to be the only one thus far who isn't.

Have you been to Kirkwall?

[He makes A Face.]

I've had the displeasure.

[ The face Merrill makes is more like "right, exactly." ]

How about the Kirkwall Templars. Visited the Gallows?

I didn't realize we were playing this game, but very well. Do tell me how badly the Southerners have it.

[Dorian Disapproves.]

I'm just trying to point out why some of Hawke's friends might quite like the idea of Tevinter, comparatively.

Oh, certainly, Tevinter seems a good idea to you. Or were you blind to how Fenris suffered at the hands of Magisters?

[A sore spot.]

Many things need to change before Tevinter is a safe place for anyone.

No! I don't...

[ Well this is a long way from being flirted at, though she's equally flustered. ]

I don't agree with slavery. Especially not when those slaves tend to be elvhen. But no place is all evil, either! Do you really hate your homelands that much?

Hate Tevinter? No. Quite the contrary. I love Tevinter more than any other.

[The great contradiction of Dorian Pavus, the Pariah. He loved Tevinter so much that he nearly hated it.

The deep flaws in his country, the sins that had not been changed and turned into common practice, into law, each of them hurt him, and hurt him deeply.

Because, in his soul, Dorian, the boy who had been bounced from Circle to Circle, locked in solitary confinement, suffered under a legacy that he could not escape, grew up broken by the wheel of Tevinter that shaped all in turn, in his soul, Dorian loved Tevinter.

It was home.

Dorian was a starry-eyed ideallist. He looked at a corrupt country, one rife with tyranny and slavery, that broke men in an effort to make them conform, a country where murder was as common at a party as dessert, Dorian looked at this country...

...and he saw something worth saving.

Even Fenris thought he was a fool for it- the elf would just as soon see the country razed off the map. But even he had begrudgingly admitted that, if anyone was going to redeem Tevinter, it would be Dorian.

And he would.]

I am simply not blind to the flaws of my homeland. Tevinter is an unkind place.

[He could still remember being but a boy, locked in solitary confinement for fighting with the other boys. Dorian, the pariah since he could put his words behind his fists, had known its cruelty well.

And even he had learned that what he had suffered had only been a fraction compared to some.]

Not to interrupt, but in the interest of--well. Me, frankly, could we possibly reserve the very stabbiest of our political arguments for, I don't know, later? The pudding hasn't even had time to dry.

I assure you, I was being entirely civil. My debates with the family gardener back home were more heated.

As I've come to know him, Fenris is a terribly, brutally honest man.

[Said with more than a touch of fondness in his voice.]

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