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[untiltheyarent]

[Verbal correspondence and scenes only! Ya girl can't read.]

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[thorndergod]

He's normally early to rise, but today he's dragging. There's nothing to do. The Gallows are closed off to him, something about a quarantine despite the one elf telling him he was a welcome guest, and he's bristly and bored and feeling fairly sorry for himself by the time he gets to the kitchens. Thor peers in, scratching his bare chest as he'd only bothered with pants so far.

"Do you cook? I would like something with which to break my fast." These lands are cold, they're grey, they're backward, and he has absolutely no task to set his hands and mind to.

[untiltheyarent]

Fifi looks up and immediately away at the sight of the man's bare chest, not out of any particular modesty, but because it's too damn early for men to be undressed in her vicinity. She continues to scrub the stone counter for another moment or so, but pauses to answer.
"I can, though perhaps you would prefer I fetch the cook?" she replies, straightening a bit and brushing her hair out of her eyes, sleepily meeting his.

[thorndergod]

"Um." The cook is a better idea, but today he does not need a feast. Instead he simply wants to eat and she's present while the cook is not.

"You will do. I do not require anything fancy." He goes over to where he'd left an outer robe last night, looking it over before yanking it on. They don't have company. They don't have expectations. Without duty he's lost.

He sighs heavily as he plops down on a barrel. "What does one do with extra time in the south?"

[untiltheyarent]

'You will do.' Well if that isn't the story of her life she doesn't know what is.

"Well," Fifi muses, digging for a frying pan so she can make him an egg or something, "surely there is entertainment in the city, Messere. Performances, taverns, and the like." Brothels. "If one were to find oneself so terribly bored, it might even pass the time to work."

action.

[deserteur]

She can't be working all the time, and some time when she isn't working, and is out somewhere that wouldn't require breaking and entering, Théo drops down to sit beside her with minimal warning. If they are not fully friends, so much as two people who were repeatedly in the same wrong places at the same wrong times, Fifi is still the most familiar face in this damned city, and that's worth half an apple.

—which is to say, he cuts an apple in half and offers her one side.

"The apples were better in Orlais," he says. "I found a worm in one yesterday—I think it was possessed, the worm. Or perhaps a blood mage in disguise." If this weren't already a patently ridiculous statement, his smile and the careless way he crunches into the half he's keeping would hopefully clear up any concern. Before his mouthful of apple is chewed up to the point of being rude, he adds around it, "Chew carefully."

o hi

[untiltheyarent]

She's actually taking a break, just sitting on a stack of crates by the kitchen door and watching the sun set, chin resting on her skinny palms. When Théo arrives, he receives a small, tired smirk of greeting, and Fifi angles her head toward him.

"Well they're magical in Orlais," she replies, "or.... not... possessable, anyway. Life-giving. You know how they say." She gladly takes the side and bites into it, chewing thoughtfully. "If there is a worm, I shall make it sorry it chose this apple."

[deserteur]

"Chewed up and spit out for trying to feed itself," Théo says, pressing a hand to his chest in pantomime sympathy. "Next we will have the Freeworms of the Apples."

[untiltheyarent]

"Makeur." Fifi winces, as though suddenly regretting the bite. "Once again I find myself holding something red at the worst possible time."

[deserteur]

“This time we can eat the evidence.”

Like so.

He chews and swallows before he speaks again, with some modicum of manners.

“How are they treating you?”

[untiltheyarent]

"Better than expected," Fifi replies, taking a healthy bite of her own apple and pausing to chew it.

"The elder Asgard has asked me to be their head maid. Which would take me away from the Inquisition, but only in a sense."

[deserteur]

"Which sense?" Théo says. "Because seems as like it would be all five. Sight, hearing..."

He's hilarious.

[crystal] this is pretty backdated, sry

[arlathvhen]

Fifi, I have an...unusual request for you.

[ Uh oh. ]

I was, ah. Investigating the Asgard household during the party, but was unfortunately compromised in the middle of it. I'm fine, but I had to hide some of the evidence I'd collected. I'm hoping you'll be able to acquire it for me.

[untiltheyarent]

Messere?

[Ah, there it is.]

What sort of evidence?

[untiltheyarent]

She elbows him.

"Smell, I wish," she decides, "Kirkwall certainly has an aroma to it."

[arlathvhen]

A book. Magical book. Tome? I think they're called tomes. It's...about blood magic, I believe. If you don't feel comfortable with that, then you don't have to deal with it, and I'll respect that. But that'll help prove that Loki practices blood magic, which will be...useful.

[untiltheyarent]

No, I... [She transported red lyrium and got out of it, and that was always illicit--not for someone so lofty as the Scoutmaster of the Inquisition. Taking risks is just part of a day's work.]
I'll find it if I can, messere.

[arlathvhen]

It's in a bedroom on Loki's side of the mansion. Not his bedroom, don't worry. I'm...not sure who it belongs to? [ What the fuck is a valet. ] It's a decent bedroom, but not fancy. And there is a locked desk in it. Behind that locked desk is the book.

If you can't get it, that's fine. But I would appreciate it. It was....a bit of a trial to get my hands on it.

[ Her voice sounds strained at that. Fun times. ]

action; some time between the poor decision to start sleeping over and tevinter

[coquettish_trees]

Alexandrie is soaking off the sweat of the previous evening's (and morning's) exertions happily, her hair piled on top of her head and her eyes half-closed in the persistent heat of the water. Magic is ever so civilized. She is extending one pale leg up from the water to wiggle her toes for her own idle amusement when someone quietly comes in, their hands full of folded linens.

"Just put those—" she begins in Tevene, cutting off when she registers the servant as someone more specific than just 'an elf', her jaw dropping and then turning quickly into a wide grin, switching into bright excited Orlesian as she quickly returns her leg to the water with a small splash and folds her elbows over the edge of the tub closest Fifi to rest her chin on them.

"The Vixen of Val Royeaux!" she exclaims delightedly, "However did you end up here?"

[untiltheyarent]

It's never a good thing when one is really noticed in this house, usually because it means more work, but also on the off-chance that someone has caught wise to certain things.
This is the latter case, though the certain things in question are not anything Fifi expected to hear about ever again, and it's for this reason that she nearly drops the towels in surprise.

At first only opening her mouth soundlessly, her shock becomes a shaky smile-- La Vulpesse, a name she hasn't heard in years. But it was her. "My life has taken many turns, Mademoiselle," Fifi replies with a curtsy, keeping her eyes lowered.

[coquettish_trees]

“It appears so!” Alexandrie replies. “Kirkwall is far from home, but it is less a surprise here than it might be in another town. The Inquisition draws many.”

Nevermind that House Asgard is not precisely the Inquisition, and that her eyes say as much.

[untiltheyarent]

"Yes, my lady," Fifi replies with a small nod, agreeing by default because it's a wealthy human addressing her.
"I'm... surprised you know of me." It niggles at her slightly, that this should be the case. What would a de la Fontaine-- a young female one, no less-- have been doing in that part of town?

[coquettish_trees]

Alexandrie waves her hand dismissively, droplets of water flicking off of her fingers, "There are more sights to be seen in the city than what floats about on the surface. Always something else to be found. I count myself lucky that your performances were one of those I had the luck to come across!

Tell me," she asks with some interest, "do you continue here in Kirkwall? Or are we all to languish forevermore without the benefit of such fan kicks?"

[untiltheyarent]

Though Fifi has learned to take the adulation of humans with a grain of salt, she can't help but smile a little, flattered by the lady's words. She holds the towels in front of her, looking down and self-consciously tucking a strand of hair behind her pointed ear.
"I have not found the time," she admits, "and perhaps some things in life are better left behind." Like many parts of Val Royeaux, and Orlais in general.

[coquettish_trees]

"I suppose it would be a pity if I had to soften my constant criticism of the performers here because you had joined their ranks," Alexandrie replies impishly, and then heaves a deep and meaningful sigh. "It shall be our secret, then.

"What wind brought you to Kirkwall, if not the call of the Inquisition?" she asks with some curiosity, "I certainly should never have left Val Royeaux to come here without it."

Of course, they may as well have lived in different cities.

[untiltheyarent]

Fifi's eyes go distant for a moment, her lips pursed as she considers her answer. It's not an easy one on any account, and perhaps best not shared with an Orlesian aristocrat in the home of her employer.
"It was the Inquisition's wind," she says after a time, offering a half-smile, "among other things. I like to think the world could become a better place, with its efforts." Meanwhile, she's folding towels.