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"More or less due north from Cumberland. I spent more time in Cumberland overall, probably, I was stationed there starting when I was fairly young. But Nevarra City wasn't so far I never went back. My parents are still there." A brief stab of guilt at how long it's been since they heard from him, but set aside for now.
"I did come to Kirkwall alone, yes. But I'd been part of the Inquisition before, back at Skyhold, so I knew some of the people here by reputation or in passing." A pause. She didn't ask, but he feels compelled to add: "I wanted to help stop Corypheus. I thought I could do more good here."
"I did come to Kirkwall alone, yes. But I'd been part of the Inquisition before, back at Skyhold, so I knew some of the people here by reputation or in passing." A pause. She didn't ask, but he feels compelled to add: "I wanted to help stop Corypheus. I thought I could do more good here."
Abby's eyes go to the glove once the smoke passes her by. She scoffs. "What, did you chase each other into a rift?"
She's spoken to Lia once, not enough to get an interesting backstory out of her (only that she's a real flirt and dislikes the sight of a plain, stone wall). Her current impression of Desidério is not dissimilar: a flirt who likes a smart, snappy conversation, smoking; writing to his mother.
Testing him, Abby says, "Surely the money doesn't bother you. You'll get paid here."
It must be something else.
She's spoken to Lia once, not enough to get an interesting backstory out of her (only that she's a real flirt and dislikes the sight of a plain, stone wall). Her current impression of Desidério is not dissimilar: a flirt who likes a smart, snappy conversation, smoking; writing to his mother.
Testing him, Abby says, "Surely the money doesn't bother you. You'll get paid here."
It must be something else.
"If that's what you call it."
He'd written straight away to Seleny upon his arrival in the Gallows—'Lady Fonteyn, I'm sure you'll be as pleased as I am to learn that you'll finally be rid of me. As a show of gratitude, expedite x sum to my current residence. I would appreciate good terms for it. P.S. I'd like to keep up the little apartment; please mind the lease for me, should I unexpectedly be able to effect my return. Sincerely, D', being more or less the gist of the thing wrapped to the leg of a raven—, but that hardly changes the point of the thing. Riftwatch's pay is—
Fine.
He takes a brisk huff off the cigarillo, then continues, "This Exalted March and demons falling out of the sky business is none of mine."
He'd written straight away to Seleny upon his arrival in the Gallows—'Lady Fonteyn, I'm sure you'll be as pleased as I am to learn that you'll finally be rid of me. As a show of gratitude, expedite x sum to my current residence. I would appreciate good terms for it. P.S. I'd like to keep up the little apartment; please mind the lease for me, should I unexpectedly be able to effect my return. Sincerely, D', being more or less the gist of the thing wrapped to the leg of a raven—, but that hardly changes the point of the thing. Riftwatch's pay is—
Fine.
He takes a brisk huff off the cigarillo, then continues, "This Exalted March and demons falling out of the sky business is none of mine."
"Neither," Abby says patiently. Sometimes she has to try really hard to keep the sound of um, duh, out of her voice. "But I live here now, so it has to be."
She can see it from his perspective though. He had a entire life before here, lived elsewhere and made his money terrorising widows, which was fun for him, and then he had to drop everything to pick up this cause. Suddenly, he had to care about demons falling out of the sky.
Relenting, she adds, "We're good people, despite what you've heard about us. It's hard at first, but it gets easier."
Could always be worse, as trite as that seems.
She can see it from his perspective though. He had a entire life before here, lived elsewhere and made his money terrorising widows, which was fun for him, and then he had to drop everything to pick up this cause. Suddenly, he had to care about demons falling out of the sky.
Relenting, she adds, "We're good people, despite what you've heard about us. It's hard at first, but it gets easier."
Could always be worse, as trite as that seems.
"I don't doubt that you're good people. But you're also people who stick your nose into Venatori business, and that's all a bit prickly for my taste. And the Gallows—" he blows out his cheeks, and gives her a sidelong look. It's not exactly the world's most pleasant place to live, is it?
Which really makes the point he's boiling down to—
"I get along with Seleny. We're old friends. And that two bit thief has got between me and it unless I'm keen to, whack,"—a hacking gesture at his wrist—"Part with something else. It's reasonable to be, mm, irritated with her."
Which really makes the point he's boiling down to—
"I get along with Seleny. We're old friends. And that two bit thief has got between me and it unless I'm keen to, whack,"—a hacking gesture at his wrist—"Part with something else. It's reasonable to be, mm, irritated with her."
"Yeah," Abby admits, "I get it. I was pretty pissed off when I first got here. Kept trying to figure out how to get back." And then she didn't want to take no for an answer, and then she sulked around complaining about how unfair it all was. She grimaces in memory of it.
She doesn't have much else to say about the state of the Gallows themselves, not when they're leagues better than anything she had at home, bar the lack of electricity. Honestly, she can't be bothered getting into it right off the bat. Let somebody have a totally normal opinion of her for a while before she drops the whole so-I-came-here-from-an-apocalypse reveal.
"... Would you actually consider chopping off your hand?"
Snort. "Dude."
She doesn't have much else to say about the state of the Gallows themselves, not when they're leagues better than anything she had at home, bar the lack of electricity. Honestly, she can't be bothered getting into it right off the bat. Let somebody have a totally normal opinion of her for a while before she drops the whole so-I-came-here-from-an-apocalypse reveal.
"... Would you actually consider chopping off your hand?"
Snort. "Dude."
His eyebrows do a thing on his face—first furrowing and then quirkjng upward toward the neighboring hairline of dark curls—over the possibility of chopping his right hand off. Wouldn't that be nice? Shame about—
"No, I'm attached to it," He says around the cigarillo while working the fingers in question opened and closed for emphasis. "So you can stop swearing your demon oaths at me."
Dear Momma, You'll be gratified to hear that I went to Riftwatch and that all the spirits there said naughty words, he will not actually write in a letter, on account of not caring to have a Chantry inquiry to muddle through on top of everything else. And if there were one woman in the world who might see it done—
Well. Best not to risk it.
Also, it's a joke.
"No, I'm attached to it," He says around the cigarillo while working the fingers in question opened and closed for emphasis. "So you can stop swearing your demon oaths at me."
Dear Momma, You'll be gratified to hear that I went to Riftwatch and that all the spirits there said naughty words, he will not actually write in a letter, on account of not caring to have a Chantry inquiry to muddle through on top of everything else. And if there were one woman in the world who might see it done—
Well. Best not to risk it.
Also, it's a joke.
Oh, well. That's far more noble than falling out of a rift, catching a bad case of shard in the palm and having to stick around or die painfully, huh. Abby feels abruptly humbled by this. She says, "We're lucky to have you." It strikes her that she's never asked the others their motivations for being here, had been assuming that, like any war, people were just doing as they were told, waiting for it to all be over.
May as well voice that.
"I was with the Washington Liberation Front back home," she explains, "We were at war with this... weird cult group that wanted control of the same area as we did, so we hunted them down and killed a lot of them. They did the same to us. It wasn't about doing good."
Abby doesn't know when this became embarrassing and hard to talk about. She pauses.
"I didn't give a shit at the time. I didn't care, I was just doing a job. And I thought I was using them for information, it was so stupid."
May as well voice that.
"I was with the Washington Liberation Front back home," she explains, "We were at war with this... weird cult group that wanted control of the same area as we did, so we hunted them down and killed a lot of them. They did the same to us. It wasn't about doing good."
Abby doesn't know when this became embarrassing and hard to talk about. She pauses.
"I didn't give a shit at the time. I didn't care, I was just doing a job. And I thought I was using them for information, it was so stupid."
He's not entirely sure, if the organization were to be polled, "lucky to have him" would be a universal feeling (beyond the overall sense that there are too few members to willingly wish one away). But it feels rude to dispute an observation that's kindly meant, so he lets it pass.
Instead, a bit softer, he says, "I don't know how much you know about the Mage-Templar War, but I can understand that. I mean." He exhales. "It's complicated, I don't have to get into it, but I just mean to say that ... I was in a war I wasn't proud of, before this one. Risking my life to save the world from an actual monster isn't easier, but it's certainly more straightforward."
Instead, a bit softer, he says, "I don't know how much you know about the Mage-Templar War, but I can understand that. I mean." He exhales. "It's complicated, I don't have to get into it, but I just mean to say that ... I was in a war I wasn't proud of, before this one. Risking my life to save the world from an actual monster isn't easier, but it's certainly more straightforward."
It's the evening after this bullshit and Benedict, having spent most of it likely hiding in his office, has descended to the dining hall, where he sits alone (as he often does, this in itself isn't unusual) and scowls at his food, periodically pushing his hair back from his face in a nervous gesture. He seems anxious and hurried, in the manner of one who is trying to sustain himself and then disappear again as quickly as possible.
If he came to the dining hall late hoping to miss most of the usual crowd he may be disappointed when Abby comes in, fresh from the baths, her hair drawn back in a tight, still-damp braid. There is a wet spot on the back of her shirt where the tail end rests against it.
Naturally, the moment she spots him, she takes her food over to the same table to she can sit down opposite from him.
"Hey."
He does seem anxious and hurried, but these are not unusual Benedict emotions, so.
Naturally, the moment she spots him, she takes her food over to the same table to she can sit down opposite from him.
"Hey."
He does seem anxious and hurried, but these are not unusual Benedict emotions, so.
He offers Abby a little smile of greeting, glancing at the state of her hair but refraining from commenting on it-- people are allowed (and encouraged!) to take baths, after all. Not everyone is finicky about ensuring they're all dried off before they appear in public again.
"H'llo," he replies, pleasantly enough.
"H'llo," he replies, pleasantly enough.
And it almost would have been normal if Abby hadn't been expecting a little comment about her hair, because he always makes one (either positive or negative). She pauses with her fork halfway to her mouth. And then she says, "Hi," and puts it in.
Now she's really looking at him. The nervy fidgeting, the way he scoops his hair back but then lets it curtain dramatically across his face again.
She says, casually, "You good?"
Now she's really looking at him. The nervy fidgeting, the way he scoops his hair back but then lets it curtain dramatically across his face again.
She says, casually, "You good?"
He freezes briefly, and that’s as much an indictment than if he’d simply said no.
“Of course,” he says nonetheless, and straightens, raising his head haughtily to tuck his hair back behind one ear; he glances at Abby furtively, playing at his stereotypical arrogance, but he’s a poor liar.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Nothing hideously stupid and embarrassing happened earlier, after all.
“Of course,” he says nonetheless, and straightens, raising his head haughtily to tuck his hair back behind one ear; he glances at Abby furtively, playing at his stereotypical arrogance, but he’s a poor liar.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Nothing hideously stupid and embarrassing happened earlier, after all.
"Because you're acting weird," Abby points out, fairly. He should know that he's being obvious, at the very least.
But she stops looking directly at him.
"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," is not a guilt-trip, or to reverse engineer him into telling her. Abby gets it. Sometimes you want to sit around having a bad fucking time without lifting a single finger to do anything about it. She starts to eat her dinner, spooning stew into her mouth.
But she stops looking directly at him.
"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," is not a guilt-trip, or to reverse engineer him into telling her. Abby gets it. Sometimes you want to sit around having a bad fucking time without lifting a single finger to do anything about it. She starts to eat her dinner, spooning stew into her mouth.
"It's not swearing," she says, unable to help laughter getting in underneath the reply. Locals are so funny. "You'd know if it was swearing."
Would sound a whole lot meaner. And it seems fair to add, "You're just like me." She holds up her gloved hand. "Technically they're you're demon oaths too.
"If it helps, I'm not about to chop any part of myself off to get rid of it either, so." Even if that meant going home. Would be a real smart move, to toss her dominant hand and immediately be sent back there.
Would sound a whole lot meaner. And it seems fair to add, "You're just like me." She holds up her gloved hand. "Technically they're you're demon oaths too.
"If it helps, I'm not about to chop any part of myself off to get rid of it either, so." Even if that meant going home. Would be a real smart move, to toss her dominant hand and immediately be sent back there.
He wrinkles his nose a little in response, as if to say no, you're acting weird, and seems content to leave it at that as they both eat in silence.
...until he can't anymore, and he sets his fork down in a huff, using the same hand to prop his chin instead.
"I'm not a crier," he mutters.
...until he can't anymore, and he sets his fork down in a huff, using the same hand to prop his chin instead.
"I'm not a crier," he mutters.
So who was strongest?
"I guess," is stated in sulky defeat.
But I want him anyway, goes unsaid, as he pushes food around the plate with the fork in his free hand, his brow furrowing prettily.
"I'm stupid for trying."
But I want him anyway, goes unsaid, as he pushes food around the plate with the fork in his free hand, his brow furrowing prettily.
"I'm stupid for trying."
Think you might've tipped something over - all that talk of up and down stairs, now we're getting some fancy lift.
"Point of order," he quibbles right back as they traipse along. Probably, this keenness to wheedle and negotiate is somewhat the people of Seleny find endearing. Or deeply annoying. Who can say?
It helps, maybe, that he sounds like he's at least halfway joking when he says: "They're not my demon oaths, because unlike you I'm not a demon." Say it louder for the random passersby, Desidério. "Magic gash in the hand? I'll grant we have that much in common. But the rest?" He gives her a once over and sucks a doubtful note through his teeth.
She's taller, for starters.
It helps, maybe, that he sounds like he's at least halfway joking when he says: "They're not my demon oaths, because unlike you I'm not a demon." Say it louder for the random passersby, Desidério. "Magic gash in the hand? I'll grant we have that much in common. But the rest?" He gives her a once over and sucks a doubtful note through his teeth.
She's taller, for starters.
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