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bakerstreet2024-11-17 05:07 pm
justformemes) wrote in bakerstreet2024-11-17 05:07 pm
Entry tags:
Only one bed?!
 It's cozy, warm and very, very narrow; you're stuck sleeping in a single bed with someone else and have to endure/enjoy the situation until morning. Snuggle-time? • COMMENT WITH CHARACTER/SERIES IN THE HEADER (add prefs in comments as needed) sockie ) |
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Worries, for a moment, about where the others ended up. Neve will be fine, at the very least, liable to shepherd the others. Rook draws his thoughts to the present room. ]
Has it been that long? [ is light, casting a crooked smile Tarquin's way for this show of skepticism. ] I hear they're patrolling Ferrymen Row during the wee hours, now.
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Ever since demons started randomly falling out of the sky they have started to patrol the city more. Not that they're arresting anyone new. The same old poor and miserable.
[ Lowborn like himself. They're always the targets even when the city is under threat from within. ]
Dock Town hasn't changed much since you left but it has changed.
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Maybe once they clear out the cultists, they'll consider fixing the drainage.
[ The good sort of change. But speaking of which— ]
I wouldn't be back so soon if the job hadn't brought me in. Unfortunately, I think the highborns've got more to worry about now than little old me. Or—fortunately. Depending.
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They'd have to clear the cultists first. Doesn't seem to be a priority to me.
[ Never has been. Never will be is what Tarquin's tone implies. Not unless they make them. ]
You're still not well liked. Poking around the city will just draw more attention to you and your work. You still need to be careful, Rook. Be smart.
[ It's a warning. The Shadow Dragons know just how deep that trouble goes. ]
... Not that your help isn't welcome.
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I reckon if I can do more good than I can make trouble, it'll balance out. I'll tally the amount of Blight-riddled sewer tunnels I've waded through arse deep.
[ His tone is irreverent, rather than defensive. No regret for the actions that drove him out of town doesn't mean he isn't acquainted with the fallout of a fuck up. Gentler; ]
You have enough reasons to watch your back about, Tarquin. I won't be one of them.
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[ That's the whole point of the Shadow Dragons, after all. Watch over the people who are forgotten in Tevinter. ]
With how this went down might have to watch everyone's backs. [ He drums his fingers on his arm. ] Someone might have talked.
[ Finally he moves away from the door. No one's coming. The only noises he hears are the usual ones for the city at night. ]
You always have to make things interesting.
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[ as Rook hitches one foot up onto his knee, and starts working at the buckles of his boot. A silent cue as to what they both know, which is, they won't be leaving soon, and the hours after midnight are always the longest. Might as well relax. But as he's saying, ]
when you put it like that, it sounds like a compliment.
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[ Which is not true at all. Tarquin is direct with people and doesn't mince words but he does actually encourage and support the people he works with. ]
We might need to take shifts. [ He's still not quite settled from the run. He's waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. ] Unless you've got some sort of ward for the door.
[ Tarquin is about as magical as a brick. ]
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He pushes himself up to stand. ]
If you don't mind it getting a bit chilly in here, [ he warns, headed for the door, laying a hand against the surface.
Not that he's going to freeze the place solid. His magic just happens to run cold. ]
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[ There's a lot of truth in that. Tarquin could probably sleep standing up if he had to. He might given the state of the bed here. It doesn't look very comfortable.
Tarquin takes off his sword and leaves it right by the bed within easy reach. He makes a face when he sits down on the edge. It is about as comfortable as this place would lead him to expect. ]
It forces them to take the hard entrance if they really want to kill us. [ The chill is immediate and uncomfortable but livable. ] You should be closer to the wall. I'll get in front of any ambush first. Give you time to cast something.
[ Mages. They're delicate and squishy. ]
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Rook turns away once done, receptive to this bed-position strategising, and a half-smile forms on his face, a little like he's trying to repress it. It's a sensible proposal. It also feels very, you know— ]
I never got to be Circle-educated, [ by the by, as he unbuckles his heavy cloak. ] Do the Templars take the door-facing bedside there too?
[ Tarquin must have a sense of humour. He will do everyone the service of excavating it. ]
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[ They took him in the Templar order simply because he was a good soldier. His record in the military was fairly spotless but he was trying to prove himself then and damn well needed some way to support himself. ]
I've been in the archives a long time. [ Being forgotten in the basement of a building suits Tarquin just fine. He can gather all the information he wants without anyone paying attention. ] You can ask Dorian when we're back at headquarters.
[ He pauses a moment as he lifts the heavy mantel cloak from his shoulders. ] That is if you want us both to be teased endlessly for this.
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Not that this is the foremost consideration. The more immediate one being sharing a bed and their relative comfort, and the prospective teasing once they make it back. ]
What an honour that would be, [ is wry. ] Only the best of people get playfully ribbed by Dorian Pavus.
[ And the worst, verbally eviscerated on the Magisterium floor. He kneels onto the bed, which responds with some creaking as he makes for the wall-facing side. ]
But I believe you. Can't have disrespectful Templars where just anyone can run into them. Altuses [ Alti? ] are sensitive that way.
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I had a bad habit of looking them in the eyes and not bowing. Utterly disrespectful.
[ He does not strip down as much out of the paranoid worry they'll be found and either have to fight or run.
He looks over Lysander and frowns. ]
You're going to be cold. [ He grabs his cloak to toss over the man once he's settled. ] Here. I know it's Minrathous but it gets chilly at night.
[ Only then does he settle on his side of the bed. ]
Especially since you froze the door.
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[ It's only a little frozen.
But he has a cloak over him, still warm from being worn, a gesture that embodies a favourite sort of mix of pragmatism and kindness. Rook finds himself swerving from some remark about a Templar's capacity for disrespect as well as protectiveness, because he decides, well. They all came to the Shadow Dragons for their own reasons, and those reasons being a collective sense of injustice.
So, don't needle the other man about his, even if Rook might personally find it charming. ]
For the express purpose that we can both get some rest, [ he adds. ]
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[ He waves a hand. Same thing to a man who's never felt a drop of magic in his life. ]
Rest. We'll see. Might take me a bit to unwind. [ He is very deeply troubled by today. He folds his hands over his chest and takes a deep breath. He's trying to relax. ]
You good, Rook?
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[ Rook has shifted onto his side, his back brushing the wall to assure them both some space. Considers Tarquin's profile, the likelihood of rest, and then flips the edge of the cloak so that it spreads out, covers the other man. ]
What're you thinking about?
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Think someone might have betrayed us. Or we've got a double agent. I don't think it's simple bad luck that job went so wrong.
[ Or he's a paranoid bastard and there's nothing to worry about. ]
You haven't been sending any letters about this, have you? Something that could be intercepted?
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I'm not that bad of a penny, you know.
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[ He taps his fingers for a moment. ]
But I don't think it's you. This work means too much to you. And you're not that good at faking sincerity.
Sorry, for what it's worth, that I have to ask.
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[ He'd rather it be a matter of situational practicality than mitigating some known propensity for fucking up, at least.
Speaks quietly, tone taking on more gravel in exchange of volume. ]
I've kept my correspondence clean, and Gallus and I tend to keep Dock Town business between us, and we deal with the Dragons directly.
Wouldn't underestimate the power of simple misfortune, though.
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[ He chuckles for just a brief second. ]
Never mind. You're fighting gods. Of course that was simple.
[ It still feels wrong, making it hard for Tarquin to relax. He should. Rest is important as everyone in the Shadows keeps reminding him. ]
I can look into it in the morning. That's all I can do right now.
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[ As if he could wave away the notion of the complexity of gods, the seeming simplicity of mortals and city intrigue. Where his focus lies. ]
We can make some inquiries tomorrow, bright and early.
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[ Now he's starting to relax. Now that there's something of a plan forming. ]
Maybe I'll see what I can hear around the barracks. Someone might slip up.
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[ A beat, then, ]
I'm kidding, don't— don't tell her I said that.
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