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Post by FLORANCE AYERS on May 9, 2014 10:40:24 GMT
Who would suspect that two people who dealt in the line of death would meet in such a place? No one. Florance had thought it all out weeks beforehand. Luckily the stares would be far and few between, but perhaps not. A human and an elf talking about anything that didn't directly involve an order to fetch, clean, or prepare dinner might be a bit too much for someone's ears to hear before... fainting. She wasn't supposed to be doing this. Florance didn't even handle Crow contracts. Why did she do it? She would ask herself often. They were already... denied because of low-pay. She didn't bother to give the girl anything tougher than what a crow could handle. If a Crow couldn't do it, how could a freelance possibly be able to survive such an encounter? It wasn't like Florance was doubt- okay, she was doubting her abilities. She doubted any assassin, who well, wasn't a Crow. It wasn't Freya personally. Its just, a Crow is raised for such a job. If they make it passed childhood and into puberty its an achievement itself. How could a human freelancer manage to top that? So Florance picked low-pay and easy jobs. The antivan was late for her own meeting - she had gotten lost, alright? So many twists and turns. She hadn't come to Orlais very often and least of all its capital. At least she didn't look as rushed as she was when she opened the doors to the cathedral. Was Freya already here? Florance headed to the usual spot - the library - trying her best to ignore the Chant of Light. She didn't believe in the Maker or the Chantry and it all made her a bit sick. How could the Maker exist in such a world in which she did too? A God who supposedly starved out the Tevinter by destroying their crops with fire from the heavens, let "heathens" like the Qunari live. It made no sense. She pulled out a book - something that she didn't really care about - and tried her best to blend in as her contact attempted to find her. freya bellamy |  ◀ MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS |
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Post by freya bellamy on May 9, 2014 11:10:48 GMT
freya had somewhat of a lower opinion of chantries. for one, they were relatively unsecured places that were open to all believers - and the believers weren't necessarily the prosperous nobility. the believers were the young and the old, the rich and the poor. the good and the guilty. those believers had included master raleigh (maker forbid) and freya's orlesian mother. those believers included people from all walks of life.
she is also not the sort of woman who would jump off a bridge if all of her friends did too. the number of believers had no correlation with the truth. that is why it is so powerful to begin with. at the same time, the chant of light is a welcome sound to her ears. it is something familiar, a sound that she can hear in nearly every country in thedas. freya has several verses of the chant memorized, herself. regardless of her beliefs, the words are poetry. she recites a few verses in her head for incorporation into her music as she walks past the chantry sisters.
freya was not completely unaware of what it meant to be an associate of the crows. no matter what kind of job she was given, it could always have been a heavier burden. these jobs came from an organization that regularly slew kings and queens, magisters and templars, elf and human.
she locates the contact relatively quickly. to a bard who had been raised in orlais for most of her life, it was easy to pick out an outsider. a bard traded in secrets, and secrets cannot be attained without a good set of eyes and ears.
"hello, sister." her voice is low, but her stance casual. freya does not see the need for props in a chantry. "it is time. shall we head to prayer?"
whatever they are going to discuss, freya certainly does not intend to talk about them in a library of all places. if a librarian does not overhear them, then an actual sister certainly will. CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE |
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Post by FLORANCE AYERS on May 9, 2014 13:09:07 GMT
"Ah, yes. I would love to join you." Her Orlasian accent was terrible, to the point where she decided that there was really no point in bothering to try it. Yes, she sounded like an Antivan but it was less conspicuous than sounding like an Orlasian who had some weird speech defect. Freya's acting on the other hand? Spot on. She played her rules well, including a Chantry sister. She was hoping that Freya wouldn't want to speak here. Hushed whispers filled a library, but if you spoke in a tone a bit above or below you were singled out. She closed her book and carefully placed it back on the shelf. "Just one moment." She makes sure the book the book leans against the others so it won't fall. It wasn't she cared much for a book written by the Chantry to serve their ends, its that the character she was playing as would care. Florance would often find herself immersed in the roles that she would play, whether it was to escape her life, or become more conceivable by the small things that she would do, Florance wouldn't tell. "I'm ready, sister. Lets go." She turned to Freya, looking at her as though she had seen her a thousand times before. Her eyes didn't widen to take in her appearance, she didn't stare. She would let Freya lead the way. freya bellamy | ◀ MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS |
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Post by freya bellamy on May 10, 2014 3:15:57 GMT
she had been away from orlais for weeks, not years. if freya could not blend into the grand cathedral, a peaceful place for all orlesians of the faith, then she would never have lasted in the grand game.
that being said, almost nobody lasted in the grand game.
freya had been a political creature - or rather, she was forced to understand the workings of political creatures. she takes care to maintain wariness around her contact. what purpose could she have in meeting her in the grand cathedral? if freya had intended to betray her, then it did not matter much whether a murder took place in a noisy market or a silent library. not for an assassin, it didn't.
she leads them to one of the private prayer rooms, the one that she had once made use of, back when a relationship to the maker meant a little more to freya. back when she still longed to be protected.
("i come here to beg the maker's forgiveness for my sins"
the young man laughs, his golden bracelets clanking as he covers his mouth.
"no you don't."
"...no." her lips twist into something ugly. "i don't.")
freya shuts the door behind them, listening for the footsteps of any potential eavesdroppers. she turns to florance. "you have work for me." it isn't a question. freya would not be here if she were unsure. that is not how she works. CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE |
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Post by FLORANCE AYERS on May 30, 2014 10:55:02 GMT
Florance is not a delicate girl, despite her own appearances. She makes use of how fragile she appears. Being opportunistic is the difference between life and death for an assassin. Her work didn't allow to forget that, no matter how many kills she had under her belt, she couldn't let any of it go to her head. If she did, she was dead. Same applied to her business with Freya, if she was founded out by the Crows, by the authorities, by anything that could link her back, she was dead. She knew the risks when she offered for this position, if she winds up dead, its no one but her own fault. The elf understands everything that she needs to but knows nothing of what she doesn't. This dawns on her as she is led through the cathedral, what did she know besides the basics of the Maker? What did she knew beyond the fact that Andreste was burned by the Tevinter and the Maker destroyed them? Nothing, not that she really bothered to ever learn that nonsense. "Yes," she reached into her chantry robes that she had stolen off a target years ago, old blood stains had just been freshly washed out. She had a small satchel underneath, she pulled out some papers, slightly crumpled, ink a bit smeared from a rainstorm. They were thrown out by the higher-ups, these contracts weren't worth it. "Here. Eh, you just need to take out this man, in Orlais but your contact is in Tevinter. Pay will barely cover your travel expenses though, you're the only one who knows besides the birdies who know, so make use."freya bellamyoops only a billion and a half years later i reply fuk | ◀ MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS |
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