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[rathercommon]

crystal | letter | cease and desist notices slipped under her door | action

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[limier]

Look about you.

[ At the Imperium, in all its sprawling glory. ]

Power demands responsibility, a check. But we cannot allow its absence to rule our fears — the Order exists as much for the protection of mages as it does the rest.

[ A mob's an ugly thing. She watches a long moment; at last eases off a glove, and extends her left hand to take. The back's a marbled web of burn, not quite enough to cover the lingering shape of a brand below.

(A delicate ring rests improbable over callous.) ]

They did not choose magic, [ Softly: ] But it must not become their burden alone.

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty doesn't take Coupe's hand, but rather touches it - her fingers resting lightly on the burn. For a moment, she thinks of Jakob, his skin mottled back and white with the disfigurement that Mr Tallow had left upon him. She thinks of her own skin, clear as anything, because of her luck. Because of her resistance. And Tallow hadn't had to pay for it. Not officially, at least. The Hyrneks, they'd gotten him back, hadn't they - but not once did anyone in power speak up for what had been done to her friend. ]

What is that?

[ Not the burn. The burn, she understands. She's asking, rather, about the brand underneath. ]

[limier]

A threat.

[ One that she ought to have responded to —

Hasn’t. Can’t dwell on that just now. ]

A Magister was, [ Dry, dry as her mouth goes to think of it: ] Unhappy with me.
It is a slave's mark.

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty pulls back, her eyes moving up to Coupe's face. Her brow furrows. That doesn't seem to make sense, with what she's said so far - ]

You...were a slave?

[limier]

No,

[ Carefully, she positions her fingers, tugs the glove back into place. The flex of leather. ]

A threat, only. [ She regards Kitty, level. Something reorients in the slope of her shoulders, invisible armor rejointing itself. ] A reminder of one’s place.

[rathercommon]

[ The confusion gives way to anger. Her lips press together, and the muscles of her face tighten. ]

So that's what Tevinter is like, is it? [ She finds her fists clenching. ] Think everyone's under their control. Think they've got the right to hurt and abuse anyone and everyone.

[limier]

[ There are eyes in these walls; ears. She has been counting, in large part, upon being uninteresting to watch. The Inquisition are by and large idealists, a would-be arm of the Southern Divine; their presence here is pragmatism, not affection. Few will be under illusions otherwise.

But that doesn’t mean they can have Kitty going on a more public tear.

She turns to collect the pillow (some overstuffed, feathery thing), ]

There is more than one Tevinter. [ She holds it out like a target. A tilt of her chin, the lift of her eyebrows: There are fists in those hands — so go on, then. ] Those who work, and serve, who do not rule. Corypheus is as much a danger to them.

[rathercommon]

Those who stand by while people are - are branded as slaves. As people - and elves, and all the others - as they're hurt and killed and scorched by magic, as they live their days terrified and miserable and afraid -

[ She shakes her head, and glares at the pillow, but doesn't strike. Determined to save her blow for a more deserving target, apparently. And in the meantime, she digs her nails so deep into her palms that she nearly breaks skin. (She may have a sense of what's smart, politically, yes, but that reason and rationality so often falls by the wayside when her temper gets involved.) ]

Why don't they rise up? Why don't they resist?

[limier]

A terrified life may still be lost.

[ Her eyes track to Kitty’s hands, linger before returning up. ]

You are hurting yourself.

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty's response is immediate and bitter. ]

Who cares.

[ She glares down at her fists, then, like they've offended her. She knows she should calm down. Thedas is covered with injustices, after all, isn't it. Tevinter might well be the worst of it, but all of it matters. And she needs to approach with a level head, doesn't she? But it's hard - hard, when she thinks of it, and thinks of Jakob, thinks of Coupe's brand, and thinks of the way that even a world apart there's a place here just like London, like it's inevitable, like it'll always be this way... ]

And it's been this way for thousands of years. Hasn't it. [ She jerks her chin down at the book, the Chant of Light - she doesn't know it well, but she's heard enough from it to know about some part of Tevinter's role in the faith. ] It hasn't gone away or changed in all that time.

[limier]

Hasn’t it?

[ The reward for hard work is more work — Can’t recall now who’s said it, Petrana, or Araceli, or Courwin, or half a dozen others. A sentiment to dog all their shadows. ]

They murdered Andraste. But there have been others, since. There will be more, when you and I are gone.

[ She presses the pillow again. ]

You care. So use it.

[rathercommon]

How?

[ Frustrated, she unworks one of her fists enough to jerk it through her hair. ]

It's not like home. I don't know what to do here.

[ A sentiment like the one she'd expressed on the network - but when talking publicly, she'd taken care to sound positive, cheerful, helpful, good-natured. Now, it's angry and despairing. This is a tone of voice rather more representative of her feelings. ]

[limier]

What you did, before,

[ A shopgirl, She’d said to another. Wren knows better than to discount the possibilit — might have lived and died a butcher —

Even so. ]

Did you do it alone?

[rathercommon]

[ She realizes how much she's given away. She tenses immediately; her face goes closed-off and wary and hard. Her eyes search Coupe's face, as though she can tell whether or not Coupe is trustworthy from her face alone, as though that isn't a completely absurd proposition. As though you can know someone from anything except their deeds. As though she can tell.

But. But Coupe has said the right things, at least. She's offered sympathy, and she's offered help - she's offered to educate Kitty, when it's in the best interests of tyrants to keep people ignorant...Offered her a book, didn't try to indoctrinate her or change her mind. And she has that brand. Would someone wicked have something like that? In Kitty's experience, the wicked were the people who'd never felt the oppression of power - who'd only ever exercised power over others. So.

After a long, wary moment, Kitty shakes her head no. Then, after another shorter pause, she says: ]

Not until recently.

[limier]

[ Her gaze holds steady, scrutinizing — but not tensed, not yet.

(This isn’t an interrogation. Perfect stillness would be out of place.)

Kitty shakes her head. Wren nods. ]

That seems a place to begin.

[rathercommon]

[ A slight hesitation. ]

What does? Finding - other people?

[limier]

There is strength in caution, [ Many questions, few answers. An introduction by way of willingness to be of use. ] But you cannot be all things, to all people. Not forever.

[ Sooner or later, they all need be seen. ]

Find those you trust.

[rathercommon]

I don't think -

[ Kitty hesitates another moment. I don't think that's a good idea. She alone had survived, out of the whole of the Resistance. Well - her and Nick the coward. But only them two. And they'd had their resilience. What have the people here got to keep them alive? Is there anything? She doesn't know if she can watch them all die again without losing her mind completely. Going as mad as Honorius.

But what other choice does she have? Coupe's not wrong. Kitty's got a will, and she's clever, and she's got skills other people don't have. All right. But that's not enough to change the world. Especially not when her life here is going to be so short. Rifters don't last long, she'd been told.

But - ]

It's hard to know who can be trusted, though, and who can't. We all want Corypheus dead, sure, but beyond that...I don't know what drives people.

[ Not many of them, at least. She's teased out bits here and there. Some of the mages have talked of revolution and freedom - she understands them. Others have talked of stability, and she gets that too. All right. But there are so many conflicts she scarcely understands. It's bloody hard to know which of the Inquisition will hear talk of revolution and change and hear you're a threat to my values, and to be done away with. She doesn't even know what their values are.

Well. Coupe, at least - she seems all right. Kitty hopes. She seems so straight-backed and honest...As long as that's not a lie, she can at least trust her. ]

crystal;

[exsecutus]

The Inquisition is organizing a mission of their own to Tevinter. If you've not heard. [But here's the really disgusting part:] To take the measure of the slave population, discern the use of it, and do little fucking else.

crystal;

[rathercommon]

[ One: holy shit, is he seriously contacting her about something? Two - ]

I heard a rumour about that, yeah. [ She bites her lip. ] I'm - thinking I'll go.

[exsecutus]

[Don't flatter yourself okay he has few outlets and most of them aren't half as ranty as Kitty and he likes rants this is just business, he's furious enough to lack discernment--]

Good. Because I imagine I won't be selected.

[rathercommon]

'Cause they think you'll start something?

[exsecutus]

[Because my stupid fucking brother is project leader and will probably be an arse about it, just as he is an arse about mostly everything will be entirely too revealing, and so Nikos settles for a seething,] Yes.

[Though on the off-chance that Kostos removes his head from his arse or goes blind and lets Nikos' name pass through--and that's also on the chance that Nikos would submit himself, officially, to consideration of his suitability, processed through the Hostile Powers project, which again would mean submitting to Kostos' approval, probably, or something, what the fuck ever--]

Maybe. I don't fucking know. If you're selected, I have a proposition for you, is the point of this.

[rathercommon]

[ Now you're talkin'. ]

I'm listening.

[exsecutus]

[Okay. A deep breath, to collect himself--or at least, to put himself back together a little, come down from his frustrated rage a little.]

When they organize, they typically allow participants to choose a party to accompany them. If they follow this model, and you are able. I would go. If not, you will have to carry out the plan without me. Which is not impossible but it is less than fucking ideal.

[No offense, he does not say. But he means it, kind of, in subtext.]

The difficulty posed by Tevinter, right now--one of the difficulties--is the border. Crossing it, and remaining undetected, will be easiest done if bundled up with the Inquisition's efforts. I know I had said working outside of them would be preferable, but they do have resources that I do not. Coin, contacts--there's former residents of the fucking Imperium here. That is needed for access.

Once we have an in, we move outside of the Inquisition. Follow their guidelines and their rules and complete the assignment, but move in secret, too. Because the Inquisition's only goal is to find a foothold in Tevinter. To use the slaves, not to free them. If freedom should happen along the way, they'd be happy to take credit for it, but they will make no serious effort or make any gesture toward freedom for the sake of freedom itself, which is owed to every man, woman, and child currently crushed beneath the yoke of slavery in that foul fucking country.