[ You know what's hard to do? Lean aggressively in a doorframe when there ain't no foutu doorway to lean in. But here's Mal on the dusty edge of the Library, peer'n at one Altus Pavus and try'n to sort out how to approach him. He ain't a subtle man, Mal. He's tall, he's broad, he's got that big ole long coat and normally he's got a dog.
Jayne's wander'n about somewhere or another, just as well. He don't need to try to wrangle two of 'em at the same time.
He pushes off the shelves and ambles over with his usual swagger, leaning against more shelves in lieu of a proper doorframe. Not so close as to seem intimate, but most certainly in Dorian's space. For intimidation purposes. As he has been told he's got an intimidating manner- which is decidedly offset by the almost friendly smile he's wear'n. ]
[ Tall, strapping soporati and their tendency to shove their shadows over Dorian in some ill-conceived attempt to intimidate him. The little thrill of amusement it brings out in him is very Tevinter, and can be only subtly read on his face as Dorian peers up from the book in his lap, raising an eyebrow at broad shoulders and friendly smile.
He lifts a hand, and a small flame dances across his knuckles, travels down the length of his finger to touch on an unlit candle to throw about some light in the slowly dimming shadows of the library. ]
Have two, if you like. So so long as they're nice ones.
[ Well that's a fancy trick. Subtle shows of power, try'n to prompt some manner of response most like. Mal ain't bothered, ain't awed, and it ain't all that relevant so long as the burny bits aren't com'n for him and as such don't much bat an eye at the pretty pretty flames that send him in all his indolent glory into sharpish relief. ]
Maybe nice, maybe not. Just look'n to clear somth'n up I've been hear'n around is all. Won't take much of your time.
[ It's a yes or no question and those tend to go smooth. Tend to. Northern mages are tricksy on near every occasion, things might get strange before he gets his answer. ]
'Mostly about you and Little Lady Thevenet- [ Contrary to his drawl he pronounces it properly, all light and airy. ] Be'n associates of some kind or another.
[ --well that wasn't going to be on Dorian's list of guesses as to what this was about, but he hadn't had much time to formulate it. He tips his head and closes his book, templing his fingers over it. ]
And, pray tell, to whom does that concern?
[ Benevenuta hasn't mentioned anyone so familiar as to call her Little Lady. ]
[ Can't call 'em friends, they're not on the same social strata. Shit, he's not even on the same level as an exiled Tevinter Altus what with his fancy robes and fancier books and fancy mustache. He's just him, carv'n out his own space.
Like he figured, this is gett'n tricksy, so the lounge becomes a proper lean, hands slung in his belt. This might take awhile. ]
[ It could take a while. It depends on how fun this proves to be, and how determined Captain Malcolm Reynolds is to extract relevant information. Mal leans; Dorian reclines a little into his comfortable chair, leg kicked over the other. ]
Then yes, I too am an associate of my own Thevenet.
[ He makes that word sound slightly dirty, somehow. ]
Captain of what? The Templar Order? A pirate ship? Or just, captain in general.
[ And with the way that word just drips Mal's will'n to bet either they're true or he's be'n baited for some reason or another. Probably fun. Least he's got noth'n else needs do'n today so this can take as long as Altus Pavus pleases. ]
Now that ain't all that polite, mak'n assumptions as to my character. Here I come try'n to be civil and you gotta go and assume I'm a piratical sort. I'm a legitimate businessman. [ Most of the time. ] Captain of the ship Serenity, not a pirate, and sûr que la merde ain't a templar. Don't much care for the skirt.
Not enough armor, [ Dorian agrees, giving the other man a thorough look up and down as if to confirm this for himself. And back up again. ] But as for making assumptions as to character, is that not what brought you to me?
[ It takes a second for the look to click into anything other than siz'n him up for a very nice bonfire, but when it clicks he don't much know what to make of it. ]
I'm assum'n she knows her own business well 'nuf. I ain't all that certain 'bout you see'n as I don't know you. Thought I might swing by, talk a little, change that.
Now you're be'n difficult on purpose. Yes or no; are you two intimate? Then I'll be on my way and not bother you none.
[ If they are, shit, Benevenuta's mother might either find it hilarious and approve or skin Mal alive for not be'n here in time to do somth'n about it even when it ain't rightly his job in the first place. ]
And here we are, arrived to the point. I couldn't all the way be certain if you suspected we were fucking, or if you were concerned I was being an evil Tevintery influence. Or both, I suppose there's more than enough room for overlap.
[ Dorian flips open his book again. ]
What if instead of yes or no, I posit that it isn't your business? Nor your place.
[ Casual vulgarity from nobles always makes Mal blink a little- because what? That's his trick. Nobles have their own fancy airs and whatnot, swear'n is supposed to be the right of the little guy, damnit. So here he is, blink'n, be'n dismissed, and vexed for it.
The previously friendly smile lessens by about several hairs. ]
She ever talk about her mother much? There's a point t'this and I'll get to it. But you know her. Younger lady. She's fine smiles and fine teeth and all kindsa tricksy and clever and wonderful for it. Add a coupla inches of height and hair and a few decades a'work that makes the players of The Game in Orlais look like kids play'n checkers and a lot, and I do mean this, a lot of investment in her girl's future. I got told once couple years back to mind her. I said yes'm, did so, went on my merry.
Thing about a Lady like that? You get told somth'n once? You agree to it? That's how it is till you die or she dies. Know'n my luck I'll be in the ground first. And not mind'n her li'l miss will get me there a mite faster than I'd like. So by the will of a singularly terrify'n woman, it's both my business and my place to ask.
Edited (i can spell i promise) 2016-01-07 14:16 (UTC)
[ Dorian looks back up from his book, haven't barely brushed the words with his attention before it settles back on the other man, flatly. But he listens, a mild twitch at the moustache suggesting a touch of amusement -- wading through this man's accent feels a little like swimming in honey. That is to say, very slow going.
But he has Dorian's attention again, even if he's no more thrilled by this conversation as he is whenever anyone looks at him askance for existing and chatting to people. ]
Well, now that I know you're under duress--
[ He considers continuing with sass, but finally relents. If only for Benevenuta's sake. ]
We are friends, and nothing more. But you should know, that no amount of looming and flexing will dissuade Lady Thevenet from associating whomever she pleases.
You think I'm flex'n? [ Yes, that's the relevant point here. He won't argue against loom'n, the lean'n was it's own version of the loom, but flexing? ] How can you tell through the leather?
Well I rightly hadn't gotten to plann'n that far head. Figured you'd be a sensible sort and clear things right up much like you have. [ Ain't half bad for a Vint, specially if word of him throw'n away all kindsa cushy liv'n to help out down here is true. ]
[ There's a slight easing up of hackles, once more, at the implication he's been compliant. His fingers spread the book apart further from where it had relaxed in his palm, returns his gaze down to the narrow, cramped passages of print. ]
You might find yourself wishing our associations were as simple as what you feared, Captain. Friendship has so much more in the way of possibility.
Long as the two'a'you don't look to blow yourselves up, blow up anyone politically relevant, or start some kinda weird mustache cult; I think I can say I've done due diligence what's been asked a'me.
[ Course it's the middle bit that worries him the most; he can't keep track of who's politically relevant in his own stretch of sea, sort'n out who might be that on land? Ain't his idea of a good time. But much like he said, he got his answer, he won't take much more a Dorain's time.
Mal levers out of his lean, dipping his head to the Altus.]
Thank you kindly for clear'n this up. Won't bother you none.
[ His nose wrinkles; a stifled laugh at moustache cult, despite himself. Dorian remains reading, even if he stays aware of what Malcolm is doing, likely more so than he appears to be. He's not even that invested in what the book in his hand.
But he allows Malcolm to leave without any scratch marks to show for it, only tipping a look after him once he's certain the other man is well on his way. ]
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First Day; Library [ action ]
Jayne's wander'n about somewhere or another, just as well. He don't need to try to wrangle two of 'em at the same time.
He pushes off the shelves and ambles over with his usual swagger, leaning against more shelves in lieu of a proper doorframe. Not so close as to seem intimate, but most certainly in Dorian's space. For intimidation purposes. As he has been told he's got an intimidating manner- which is decidedly offset by the almost friendly smile he's wear'n. ]
I was hop'n to have a word with you, Altus.
no subject
He lifts a hand, and a small flame dances across his knuckles, travels down the length of his finger to touch on an unlit candle to throw about some light in the slowly dimming shadows of the library. ]
Have two, if you like. So so long as they're nice ones.
no subject
Maybe nice, maybe not. Just look'n to clear somth'n up I've been hear'n around is all. Won't take much of your time.
[ It's a yes or no question and those tend to go smooth. Tend to. Northern mages are tricksy on near every occasion, things might get strange before he gets his answer. ]
'Mostly about you and Little Lady Thevenet- [ Contrary to his drawl he pronounces it properly, all light and airy. ] Be'n associates of some kind or another.
no subject
And, pray tell, to whom does that concern?
[ Benevenuta hasn't mentioned anyone so familiar as to call her Little Lady. ]
no subject
[ Can't call 'em friends, they're not on the same social strata. Shit, he's not even on the same level as an exiled Tevinter Altus what with his fancy robes and fancier books and fancy mustache. He's just him, carv'n out his own space.
Like he figured, this is gett'n tricksy, so the lounge becomes a proper lean, hands slung in his belt. This might take awhile. ]
Captain Malcolm Reynolds.
no subject
Then yes, I too am an associate of my own Thevenet.
[ He makes that word sound slightly dirty, somehow. ]
Captain of what? The Templar Order? A pirate ship? Or just, captain in general.
no subject
[ And with the way that word just drips Mal's will'n to bet either they're true or he's be'n baited for some reason or another. Probably fun. Least he's got noth'n else needs do'n today so this can take as long as Altus Pavus pleases. ]
Now that ain't all that polite, mak'n assumptions as to my character. Here I come try'n to be civil and you gotta go and assume I'm a piratical sort. I'm a legitimate businessman. [ Most of the time. ] Captain of the ship Serenity, not a pirate, and sûr que la merde ain't a templar. Don't much care for the skirt.
no subject
no subject
I'm assum'n she knows her own business well 'nuf. I ain't all that certain 'bout you see'n as I don't know you. Thought I might swing by, talk a little, change that.
no subject
[ Quoting the other man back at him has the affect of tidying up his diction, making drawling syllables into his own precise way of speaking. ]
no subject
[ Northerners. Why. Why ruin a good drawl? Then again mimicking him would end in all kindsa sadness. ]
I, for one, would like things a li'l clearer.
no subject
[ The offer is delivered brightly. ]
Or must we break out the puppets.
no subject
[ If they are, shit, Benevenuta's mother might either find it hilarious and approve or skin Mal alive for not be'n here in time to do somth'n about it even when it ain't rightly his job in the first place. ]
no subject
[ Dorian flips open his book again. ]
What if instead of yes or no, I posit that it isn't your business? Nor your place.
no subject
The previously friendly smile lessens by about several hairs. ]
She ever talk about her mother much? There's a point t'this and I'll get to it. But you know her. Younger lady. She's fine smiles and fine teeth and all kindsa tricksy and clever and wonderful for it. Add a coupla inches of height and hair and a few decades a'work that makes the players of The Game in Orlais look like kids play'n checkers and a lot, and I do mean this, a lot of investment in her girl's future. I got told once couple years back to mind her. I said yes'm, did so, went on my merry.
Thing about a Lady like that? You get told somth'n once? You agree to it? That's how it is till you die or she dies. Know'n my luck I'll be in the ground first. And not mind'n her li'l miss will get me there a mite faster than I'd like. So by the will of a singularly terrify'n woman, it's both my business and my place to ask.
no subject
But he has Dorian's attention again, even if he's no more thrilled by this conversation as he is whenever anyone looks at him askance for existing and chatting to people. ]
Well, now that I know you're under duress--
[ He considers continuing with sass, but finally relents. If only for Benevenuta's sake. ]
We are friends, and nothing more. But you should know, that no amount of looming and flexing will dissuade Lady Thevenet from associating whomever she pleases.
no subject
[ Better question: Does he want to know? ]
no subject
no subject
no subject
[ There's a slight easing up of hackles, once more, at the implication he's been compliant. His fingers spread the book apart further from where it had relaxed in his palm, returns his gaze down to the narrow, cramped passages of print. ]
You might find yourself wishing our associations were as simple as what you feared, Captain. Friendship has so much more in the way of possibility.
no subject
[ Course it's the middle bit that worries him the most; he can't keep track of who's politically relevant in his own stretch of sea, sort'n out who might be that on land? Ain't his idea of a good time. But much like he said, he got his answer, he won't take much more a Dorain's time.
Mal levers out of his lean, dipping his head to the Altus.]
Thank you kindly for clear'n this up. Won't bother you none.
no subject
But he allows Malcolm to leave without any scratch marks to show for it, only tipping a look after him once he's certain the other man is well on his way. ]