revivalproject | "People don't always tell the truth when you're polite." [Closed]

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"People don't always tell the truth when you're polite." [Closed]

WHO: Bull and Lerith
WHERE: The ~~Tavern~~ Diner
WHAT: Talk about Haven and other Thedas things
WHEN: Evening time in late January
WARNINGS: None atm

Each time he's gone to the tavern, Lerith tries to go when the least amount of people are there. He gets his food, he gets out to go back to the hotel. The elf would say it's because he likes to people watch from the warmth of his room, but he's fooling no one. They probably all know he's scared of almost everyone.

But tonight... no, tonight was going to be different. The mute went to the diner to pick up his meal, but didn't immediately leave. Instead he went to sit in a booth - the one with the slightly wiggly table - to take his meal. A simple one of course, Lerith would never ask for anything fancy, but food was food.

He curled up on the bench, back against the wall and hood up as he balanced his plate on his knees to eat and keep an eye on the comings and goings of people. A new place to people watch.

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[Propaganda is what I know mostly,] and that checked out since he was from Tevinter. [I worked out some lies by listening to you. At least... I presume they're lies.] So living in Tevinter didn't help Lerith's knowledge of the other race. Just that Qunari were terrible people out to eat the young of everyone else and sew people's mouth's shut.

[Qun,] spelled out since he didn't have a Sign for it, [is like chantry teachings? or just word for Qunari way of life?]

Lerith's hands were still in silence for a long moment. [I didn't think a warrior like you would have that kind of worry.]

"Nah, the Qun's not a religion. It just...is. It's like...a living things, in a way. Some are part of the head, some the arms, but they all have purpose in the Qun. You follow that?"

At least that's how it was taught, and it had been his truth for most of his life. It still was, in a way. Now he was just a part of something else with other people.

"And yeah, that's part of the problem. I'm big, and if I lost it?" He shook his head. "Well, I don't want to think about it."

It was easy to relax around Bull, even with all the propaganda swimming around in his thoughts. Still, the explanation makes Lerith frown a little. [I think I follow. And now you're just transported onto a different living thing. To adapt?]

He finishes off his meal and sets it aside to take to Tommy whenever he and Bull are done with their meal. [Tell me about something else then? So you don't think about it. Like what happened after the dragon attacked Haven?]

Bull did like dragons, from what he had heard here and there at Haven.

"Yeah, something like that." And it wouldn't have been so bad, either, if he could shake the feeling that he'd been in a place like this before, but the half-memories were more creepy than anything else.

He finished off his meal as well, grinning at the question, though a little bittersweet. "Haven didn't make it. We ran, and we got lost in the snow for a while, until Solas found us a castle, then politics got involved. The Chantry put the boss on trial for opening a hole in the sky, even though we had bigger problems. They didn't like the idea that someone other than them were calling the shots, which shouldn't be surprising. Bunch of control freaks, the Chantry."

The grin sets him a little at ease. Lerith was accustomed to the Bull being pretty happy from what he could see in Haven, and how he sounded in the stories he told. Of course, not everyone could be happy all the time and it... broke some of the propaganda that he knew of from Tevinter.

He leans forward, crossing his arms on the table and leaning into them, to listen. Eyes widen. They found a castle? He wondered how Solas found it, or maybe he went scouting with Inquisition people. There was a scoff-like snort at the information about the Chantry and he sat back looking miffed.

[I am not surprised. I don't like the Chantry. Or 'gods' in general. All of it is stupid. Like that Chantry lady's tall hat. Probably keeps her portion of Chantry ego in there.]

That got a hearty chuckle from the Bull after the moment it took the man to follow along Lerith's signing. He'd observed the guy for a while, but conversation really cemented it.

"Nah, I doubt it would all fit. She's got a small head." He accentuated his point by tapping a finger to his own forehead. The Chantry could be pretty egotistical, that was true, even in the face of their own errors, but they had nothing, nothing at all, on the Magisterium.

"We fought the dragon again when the guy who opened the first rift did it again, and then we fell into the Fade. That was...such crap."

No one had anything when it was compared to the Magisterium. But in Haven, Giselle pestering him had been his own personal experience with the Chantry and it was annoying. He hadn't even cared that she couldn't understand his signing before he had stormed off from her back to the spot he had been staying in at Haven. Far away from her at least.

Bull's movements and remarks got a grin and a wheezy chuckle at least.

[Another dragon? And you fell into the Fade? Holy shit. I would have died from fear.] Which... probably wouldn't take much with how skittish the elf was. [How did you get back out of the Fade? Was it scary in there?]

The Bull shook his head at that, chuckling.

"Nah, same dragon. It was crazy shit. So, the guy who started a cult in Tevinter was actually one of the Magisters who went into the Fade, you know the ones the Chantry talks about? I guess they were right about something." He shivered just thinking about the place. There are some places the living just aren't meant to be and that is definitely one of them.

"Shit, yeah, and the place we landed was ruled by a Nightmare. Literally. It got into your head, made you think you saw crap."

The same dragon? That meant at the very least the Inquisitor hadn't defeated it yet at Haven. Lerith looked surprised at the Chantry being right about something. They were never right! Or maybe that was just Giselle.

[I almost don't believe you saying the Chantry was right. But I'm not surprised about some cult Tevinter doing crazy and stupid shit.]

He listens to the explanation about the Fade. [I hope I never end up in there. I don't need a stupid Nightmare thing making things worse than they already are in my head.]

He chuckled, though there was a self-deprecating tone to it. "I know right?" He shook his head.

"Yeah, Corypheus was a crazy bastard, wanted to 'make Tevinter great again' or some other crazy shit. A lot of Vint mages really liked that idea. We killed a lot of them, though. Do you remember Dorian? He went back to Tevinter after we knocked down the crazy and his dragon, trying to change things. I'm proud of him."

There's a fondness in his voice when he says the Altus's name, something akin to affection.

While Lerith could hear the fondness in Bull's voice, the elf didn't communicate immediately that he didn't share it. Maybe this was something different from the time that the Qunari was from but... Dorian wasn't safe to Lerith. Not yet. It had been a rocky start meeting him in Haven, but watching the Tevinter mage while he talked with Solas had... helped.

At least he knew that Dorian wasn't going to shackle him and send him back north.

Lerith nervously taps his fingers against the table for a long moment, trying to think of how to word it.

[I am still... learning to trust Dorian. But I believe you're saying the truth when you tell me Dorian went back to Tevinter to try and change things. Maybe by the time you're from, I learn to like Dorian. I probably do, if I can learn to be okay with Solas.]

"You got along okay, from what I remember, but Dorian spent most of his time in the Library at the fortress, so I don't think you met much." He laughs, though, shaking his head. "I didn't trust him for a while, but only because I didn't know how different that head of his was from his father's. That...was news. Besides, there's a lot more to that fop than the wine and the pretty clothes. He's smart, but he also cares, and he learned. Never even occurred to him slavery was wrong, until he saw places it didn't exist, and instead of preaching, he watched, and he learned."

[We get a library the fortress?] Lerith's ears perked up at that - books were few and far between for him at Haven. Mostly because they were in the Chantry building and he didn't like going in there if he could help it. Sometimes he could coerce Solas into going for him, but he didn't like doing it.

[I don't know a lot about Dorian yet. It sounds like his manners are just a front then.] Maybe if the Agrii let him back home, he'd remember that little tidbit. [No one really thinks slavery is wrong until they see what it's done to others.] The mute gestured to his scarred face.

He was silent for a long moment. [I'm both glad the Agrii brought me here and upset. I was thinking about asking one of the mages in Haven to get my collar off. I still have it on here.]

"Dorian comes from a place where everybody who isn't perfect has to pretend they are, and he's got a lot about him that sets him apart from the other Magisters." He rolled his shoulder in a shrug as he collected their dishes. He'd carry them for the both of them. Lerith needed to used his hands, after all.

"It's not the same, not by a long shot, but he goes repression if nothing else." He gritted his teeth at the last, though, and his expression went serious. "We'll get it off. Don't worry."

Lerith cracks a little smirk. [One thing that sets him apart is the mustache,] and he added a little twirl with his finger like he would if he had such facial hair. The mute at least stacks the plates and utensils to make it easier to balance. When Bull takes them, he gives the sign for [thanks] to follow him.

[Do you think so? I know it only comes off with magic, it's too tight to get anything between it and me.] And it was difficult when he was so skittish around anyone getting so close to his neck. Just the first thoughts of asking a mage to remove it had sent him into a panic attack back in Haven.

He laughed. "I know, right?" And he shook his head. The laugh and the smile suggested just how much the Bull liked it, even if he thought it was ridiculous. "He preens as much as any bird."

But at the explanation of the collar he grunted in irritation. "Maybe there's somebody around here who knows something about 'em. I'll ask around."

'dorian is a bird. all color and chirping. squawking too if the wine's bad i bet' It was easier to talk about the mage when he wasn't around to threaten Lerith with magic. Not that he would do such a thing, but the elf's brain thought otherwise.

He held the door leading to the kitchen for Bull, making it hopefully easier to get to the back while carrying the dishes. 'there are a lot of people here. maybe there's a mage hiding somewhere. if you find someone tho, will you come with me to the get the collar off? i'm not sure i could... do it alone.' No doubt his anxieties would win out and send him retreating back to the hotel for safety.

He nodded. "Yeah, a peacock. It's his family crest and everything." But he was the Bull's peacock, and while that had taken a long time to make sense to the Qunari, who didn't couple in quite the same way, he wouldn't change it, to spite how complicated it made things at times.

The Bull had a lot of years of practice moving around areas that weren't built for people of his size, and he was surprisingly graceful as he slipped into the kitchen, setting about washing their dishes. "Sure, Signs. I'll come with you. Don't worry about it."

Lerith had some habits left from his time in Tevinter. Bull went to the sink for the dishes, and Lerith immediately began to work with water and soap. Thinking about the collar, the magic holding it, the magic still lodged in his throat - a little piece of his present mind was pulled back to Tevinter as he started washing the dishes before Bull could really get the chance to.

The water was probably too hot but he worked at the plates until the warrior spoke again. But it wasn't really the acknowledgement of coming with, or having to worry about it, that got his attention. The dish dropped into the sink (thankfully not breaking) as he got back to the present and not Tevinter.

[What...did you call me? A name? A nickname?]

He didn't rush the guy, understanding Lerith had a lot of habits to break. It was even possible that collar had a hand in his having a hard time breaking it. Not knowing the power of the device, he really didn't have a way of knowing, but he let the guy do his thing, cracking a smile at the question.

"Yeah. That's what you do, right? Signs?"

Bull was pretty close, but given what little Lerith knew about how Bull being a spy now, it made sense that he picked up on it. It was mostly why he lived by himself - he didn't feel that obligation to do everything when it was only him. Habits gained from seventeen years of shackles were harder to shake off than the status itself.

But he stared up at the Qunari for a long moment. Bull really gave him a nick name. Suds slid down pale and scarred skin as the hands hung in front of him. Speechless, on both fronts.

'I thought you only gave nicknames to your men. Your group. Like Grim or Rocky.' Lerith, in his own eyes, was just a nobody with only his name and clothes for his own.

The Bull laughed at that, deep and hearty, but also fond. He knew he remembered a lot of of Lerith than the little guy did of him, but that didn't mean the Bull didn't know him, his quiet strength, his determination.

"Everybody has a name they were given when they were born, and a name they earn. That one's the one you are. I chose the Iron Bull, and then I made it mine. People call your Lerith, but is Lerith who you are?"

Lerith is almost startled by the hearty laugh, soap still dripping down his skin. He hastily washes it off and shakes the excess off while he listens.

[Yes. Lerith is my name. The only thing I still have before becoming a slave. I don't remember anything else except someone shouting it before seeing sky and blacking out.] He turns to indicate a gnarled line of scar where the hair wouldn't grow, on the back of his head. Like he had fallen and hit something hard.

He turned back to continue talking. [I like the nickname though. It is good. Very fitting, but you are a spy, so you notice things others don't.]

"I used to be a spy." There wasn't any anger in his response, but it was important to him to make the distinction. He was no longer a Ben-Hassrath of the Qun. He was the Iron Bull, leader of the Bull's Chargers and his own man. He understood what the elf was saying though, that he had skills that made him more observant.

Now he just used them to take care of people, make sure they had what they needed. Lerith needed his own identity, and that was a stance the Bull could sympathize with. While not involved directly with his progress, Bull remembered all Lerith accomplished and he was happy to help in whatever way he could.

"Great. Glad you like it, Signs."

[Were a spy, yes. Sorry.] Lerith briefly ducked his chin down before straightening back up. He didn’t have to look away or wait for reprimands anymore. Lerith was a free elf! He grinned up at the Qunari, the emotion behind it lighting up his eyes. He was free and had a cool nickname! One hand went up to give the warrior an easy "punch" against the muscular arm.

[Best nickname. I miss Varric calling me Mouthy sometimes. That was a funny nickname.] Lerith finally finished the dishes he had started and set them to the side to dry. [How long have you been here, Bull?]

"Varric's a funny guy. I miss him, too." He chuckles, smiling down at the guy before patting him on the shoulder. It was a gentle pat, too, to spite those massive hands of his.

He was thoughtful for a moment, doing some mental math. "Almost three months, I think. What about you?"

There was a very minute tensing of muscle under the pat, but immediately relaxed. Lerith hadn't really been expecting it, but grinned despite it. The mute did have to think about when he had gotten here.

[Month and a half ago, maybe two? Before the party where we all got gifts from the Agrii. They gave me seeds from Thedas to plant, which I'll do when it starts warming up again.] He smiled at the thought and wiped his hands dry on his shirt.

A pause. [Qunari aren't so bad like I heard about in Tevinter. Or maybe that is just all...] Lerith had to think about the word and just spelled it out instead, [propaganda.]

"Nah, some Qunari can be bad, just like everybody else. Besides, I was pretty bad at being a part of the Qun." He chuckles. "I eat too much, drink too much. They aren't into the excess thing. I like things, but I also like people. My people."

And at the 'my' he gave Lerith's shoulder a slight squeeze as though to say you're on that list too, now.

"Yeah...that party was weird. It reminded me of something, but I can't quite remember what." And that bothered him more than he cared to think about.

[Also too loud maybe,] but it's a joke. To Lerith, if Bull was laughing, things were still good. At the squeeze to his shoulder, Lerith knew that the Bull meant what he was saying. And that he was included with that 'my'. And he can't help but flush hotly because how long had it been since he had been included into a group at all? Not just another face trying to blend in.

He pulls his thoughts away from that. Frowns a little at what the Qunari says. [Maybe it reminded you of something from Thedas?]

He shook his head, denying that to be true. It had seemed like a half-remembered dream, not something that happened back home, like most of this place did. It was hard to shake the idea he'd been here before, and he wondered sometimes if he'd been on the ships, with the Atroma. It almost felt right, thinking of it that way.

But why had he forgotten? Was it another trick? That train of thought often derailed then, as he shoved it down and away. It was too close to crazy talk for his comfort.

"Nah, but with all the other weird in this place, what's one more thing?"

Lerith is studying Bull's face. He didn't have the former-spy's abilities with reading people, but he had been around slaves that tried to hide emotions on their face. It looked like Bull was just thinking about what they were talking about. Trying to find the memories that were displaced.

[That is true. Would it help to relate? I can't remember anything from before slavery.] He turned his head so Bull could see the nasty scar untouched by his white hair where a gash had cut into his head. [I think we're pretty normal compared to others here. There's a guy who's super fast here! Really nice too.]

He looked over to the guy before smiling. "Hey, yeah. I guess it's fine I don't remember this place, right?" He nodded. "Yeeah...Tommy, right? Silver hair, real easy to miss?"

[Yeah, that Tommy! Really easy to miss because he's going too fast.] But sometimes that was good. Easy to catch stuff that falls. Get from one place to another.

He started to the doors that led back to the main dining area. [I think if anyone can do good here, I think it's you. Adapting I should say. You are good at adapting. That's why you are a good warrior with the Inquisitor! And have your Chargers!]

It didn't take long for Lerith to attempt to be a little bit of a hype ~~man~~ elf.

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"People don't always tell the truth when you're polite." [Closed]

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