“What a useful trick. Though, it is generally considered very rude to tell people that they stink.” If he had to liken his art to any other sensory experience, what would he pick? Music or color, he thought. Something that could be beautiful or ugly — as scent could also be, he had to admit. Tiberius watched the food arrive, wondering if Avorra had somehow guessed his dietary preferences as well. Bizarre.
“Ah. Well, no. Please consider me self-interested and entirely reactive.” That was as honest as he was likely to get with a stranger. Paradoxically, it was more open than he was with most other people.
Time immemorial, though? She looked easily young enough to be his daughter without any sort of suspect technicalities. Wasn’t that a terrible thought?
“Sorry to hear you have a mysterious ailment. I could certainly help you find a healer.” Not Lyric, though. Whatever sort of monster this woman hosted, he knew better than to take it home. Just about. Now, Avorra didn’t necessarily look sick beyond her extreme pallor and white hair. He’d taken that as more of a presentation choice, at first. Now he looked closer, manipulating the light to see if it birthed hollows in her cheeks, or turned the thin skin around her eyes bruise-dark.
Results were inconclusive. Tiberius knew enough to scab over a wound or brace a bone with a cast of blood. For less obviously things, diagnosis was not his strong suit.
“A house is, well … It’s kind of like a sort of burrow for humans.” He spoke with a straight face, just about. Then shook his head, losing that composure immediately. When he spoke again, it was low and quiet.
“You’re not here legally, are you?” He couldn’t imagine anyone getting through a border checkpoint without learning at least that much about Tevinter. Without being told who to watch out for. Ah, well. Anyone without specific business was probably turned away, to be honest. If her sort of magic was unknown to him, maybe it was strange or rare enough that no one had been watching for it. Maybe she came in over the mountains or some trackless bit of coast. The whole city would be secretly desperate for smugglers now, to bring in delicacies from out of the country. Many might overlook a bit of strangeness.
“When we say House, we mean something between family and political affiliation. Guild, perhaps, as well. All three, really.”
“Ah. Well, no. Please consider me self-interested and entirely reactive.” That was as honest as he was likely to get with a stranger. Paradoxically, it was more open than he was with most other people.
Time immemorial, though? She looked easily young enough to be his daughter without any sort of suspect technicalities. Wasn’t that a terrible thought?
“Sorry to hear you have a mysterious ailment. I could certainly help you find a healer.” Not Lyric, though. Whatever sort of monster this woman hosted, he knew better than to take it home. Just about. Now, Avorra didn’t necessarily look sick beyond her extreme pallor and white hair. He’d taken that as more of a presentation choice, at first. Now he looked closer, manipulating the light to see if it birthed hollows in her cheeks, or turned the thin skin around her eyes bruise-dark.
Results were inconclusive. Tiberius knew enough to scab over a wound or brace a bone with a cast of blood. For less obviously things, diagnosis was not his strong suit.
“A house is, well … It’s kind of like a sort of burrow for humans.” He spoke with a straight face, just about. Then shook his head, losing that composure immediately. When he spoke again, it was low and quiet.
“You’re not here legally, are you?” He couldn’t imagine anyone getting through a border checkpoint without learning at least that much about Tevinter. Without being told who to watch out for. Ah, well. Anyone without specific business was probably turned away, to be honest. If her sort of magic was unknown to him, maybe it was strange or rare enough that no one had been watching for it. Maybe she came in over the mountains or some trackless bit of coast. The whole city would be secretly desperate for smugglers now, to bring in delicacies from out of the country. Many might overlook a bit of strangeness.
“When we say House, we mean something between family and political affiliation. Guild, perhaps, as well. All three, really.”
04-28-2024, 04:58 PM
