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[voidtransport]

CRYSTAL ✧ CORRESPONDENCE ✧ ACTION

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a survey;

[heirring]

[Shoved under Allumin's door at some point during his enforced quarantine is a packet of papers with a handwritten (distinctly lovely handwriting at that) questionnaire. The following instructions are pinned to its cover: 'Welcome to Riftwatch! Please fill out the following survey to the best of your ability and return it to the Project Felandaris offices, to the attention of Madame Wysteria de Foncé. Should you have any questions, please do not hesitate to reach out for clarification. Best Wishes, W.A. de Foncé, Research Division.'

The following survey is...expansive.]

Questionnaire Section A
Of and Relating Specifically to the Rifter Population in the Gallows (Kirkwall, The Free Marches, 9:47)

Question 1A. Conceptually, how familiar are the Fade and the Veil to you? Are there similar phenomena (however minor the resemblance) in the place from which you came?

Question 2A. If yes, is energy drawn and/or emitted from or through it? Do cognizant beings (spirits, full bodied manifestations similar to a Rifter, and so on) pass through it?

Question 3A. Does "magic" exist in your world?

Question 3A.(i). If "magic" exists in your world, is it somehow tied to or sustained by this other space?
Question 3A.(ii). If "magic" exists in your world and there is no such alternative dimension as referenced in Question 1A., from where does it originate?

Question 4A. Given the opportunity to objectively estimate your own physical conformation and comeliness against the general populace of the world from which you came, where on a scale of one through ten might you be ranked (for the purposes of this survey, please consider the numerical score of five (5) as average for your home world)? Disregard. This question has been deemed inessential.

Questionnaire Section B
Rift Anchors, with Respect to All Who Presently Possess Them

Question 5B. How long have you had your rift shard? Irrelevant; it is assumed you received it upon arrival through the Rift. However, you are welcome to detail any notes you may have on it here.

Question 6B. Are you able to perform any supernatural acts with the power of your rift shard beyond closing Rifts? If yes, please detail these abilities. Irrelevant; recorded with your personnel file. Please update W.A. de Foncé should your rift anchor develop any additional effects.

Question 7B. Do you have any other abilities, such as mage talent? If so, has the presence of the rift shard or your time in Thedas affected your ability whatsoever (please note whether this is a negative or a positive effect)?

Question 8B. At what point would you take surgical measures to rid yourself of your anchor shard?

Question 8B.(i). Would you permit scientific observation of the process?
Question 8B.(ii). Would you permit samples to be taken from the limb?

(PLEASE NOTE that the authors of this survey do not advocate for preemptive amputation unless strictly recommended by a trusted medical professional.)

[voidtransport]

[It's clear in some of the linework that he's still getting used to writing in the script for the common tongue here - some lines are unsteady, splotches where his pen lingered a bit to long in a stroke, an inclination to add a flourish to the lettering where there should be none. Considering that there are two signatures for his name, one written to be read here and the other in what can easily be guessed as his native script, it's clear why the alphabet for the language here might give him some trouble. It's returned in an envelope to her office, the wax seal on it small and modest as if from a signet ring.]

Questionnaire Section A
Of and Relating Specifically to the Rifter Population in the Gallows (Kirkwall, The Free Marches, 9:47)

Question 1A. Conceptually, how familiar are the Fade and the Veil to you? Are there similar phenomena (however minor the resemblance) in the place from which you came? Very familiar. Yes, there are.

Question 2A. If yes, is energy drawn and/or emitted from or through it? Do cognizant beings (spirits, full bodied manifestations similar to a Rifter, and so on) pass through it? Was trying to research that, didn't go well. Yes.

Question 3A. Does "magic" exist in your world? Yes.

Question 3A.(i). If "magic" exists in your world, is it somehow tied to or sustained by this other space? No. Well, it can.
Question 3A.(ii). If "magic" exists in your world and there is no such alternative dimension as referenced in Question 1A., from where does it originate? It's not the sole source of magic, or even a main one. Most magic comes from nature, bloodlines, can be bestowed upon people who don't have it from someone who does (a person, powerful creature like a demon or dragon, or even a god), or one can simply be born lucky and have their own magic within them to use.

Question 4A. Given the opportunity to objectively estimate your own physical conformation and comeliness against the general populace of the world from which you came, where on a scale of one through ten might you be ranked (for the purposes of this survey, please consider the numerical score of five (5) as average for your home world)? Disregard. This question has been deemed inessential. [Despite the note, there is still a question mark written next to this.]

Questionnaire Section B
Rift Anchors, with Respect to All Who Presently Possess Them

Question 5B. How long have you had your rift shard? Irrelevant; it is assumed you received it upon arrival through the Rift. However, you are welcome to detail any notes you may have on it here.

Question 6B. Are you able to perform any supernatural acts with the power of your rift shard beyond closing Rifts? If yes, please detail these abilities. Irrelevant; recorded with your personnel file. Please update W.A. de Foncé should your rift anchor develop any additional effects.

Question 7B. Do you have any other abilities, such as mage talent? If so, has the presence of the rift shard or your time in Thedas affected your ability whatsoever (please note whether this is a negative or a positive effect)? Unable to cast most spells I could normally cast. The ones I can still use feel different and/or weaker.

Question 8B. At what point would you take surgical measures to rid yourself of your anchor shard? Is this required? I would prefer not to resort to such a thing.

Question 8B.(i). Would you permit scientific observation of the process? If necessary, yes.
Question 8B.(ii). Would you permit samples to be taken from the limb? If it's no longer on my body, I suppose you could do with it whatever you like.

(PLEASE NOTE that the authors of this survey do not advocate for preemptive amputation unless strictly recommended by a trusted medical professional.)

[heirring]

[Shortly after the survey is returned, a short note appears in Allumin's assigned mail cubby in the dining hall. It reads:]

Dear Sir,

Welcome once more to Thedas, to the Gallows, and to Riftwatch et cetera. I thank you for the time you spent responding to and returning my survey. Should you have any questions regarding the nature of Thedas, its arcane arts, the business of Riftwatch, and so on and wish to receive answers from the perspective of a fellow Rifter then I am entirely at your disposal.

As a small additional note, I wonder whether you might seek out an audience with the esteemed Madame de Cedoux. She is Riftwatch's cryptographer and I believe she may have some use for the alphabet (if that is indeed what I have interpreted the second line of characters on your returned survey to have been part of). She is quite interested in all varieties of languages, particularly those which originate from elsewhere as it is a great benefit to create codes out of things which our enemy has no reference whatsoever for translation.

Regarding your anchor: There are no fears whatsoever of anything ill happening because of it. Or at least, the likelihood is very small. There has been only one confirmed case of death by anchor poisoning and that person was unfortunate enough to have the thing in their torso rather than an appendage. (I trust yours is in a hand or some similar limb.) Everything should be perfectly well for the duration of your stay in Thedas. I am quite certain of this.

Warmest Regards,
Wysteria de Foncé
Research Division
Project Felandaris

[voidtransport]

Dear Madame de Foncé,

Thank you for the welcome, and I appreciate your offer. I have endeavored to read what I can of native source material, especially regarding the magic of Thedas, but would appreciate the opportunity to discuss it with another Rifter very much.

Indeed it is! It felt odd not to sign my name in my native script, hence the inclusion of it. I shall remember to seek out Madame de Cedoux and discuss it at some juncture in the near future.

It is a relief to know that I shouldn't need to worry much, as it is in one of my hands, yes. Thank you for your informative explanation regarding the matter.

Best wishes,
Allumin Etsija

[It is once again signed with his name in his native script as well.]

[heirring]

[Some days later—she is rather behind on her corrspondence—another note manifests. This one has a few distinct smudges of ink at the edges, as if the author's fingers had been dirty when she'd gone to pack it into its little envelope.]

Dear Sir,

How pleased I am to discover that you are the sensible sort who has no imposition of pride when it comes to accepting the counsel of experts. We may discuss the subject of the arcane (or any other topic, I suppose) at your leisure. I presently keep hours in the Gallows work rooms or in the Project Felandaris offices from just after the morning meal hour to two marks past noon, and am then engaged elsewhere (field work and so on) for the remainder of the day (days dedicated to field work and so on not withstanding)

[Wysteria, it's not really at someone leisure if you give them a scheduling block.]

However, if you care to pursue our conversation in a more casual setting then I would be delighted to show you about one of Kirkwall's most interesting dinner establishments. I am pleased to say that I have curated quite a thorough listing.

Sincerely,
Wysteria de Foncé
Research Division
Project Felandaris

➠ action; hopefully this is cool, squeaking in right before her anchor poisoning plot

[voidtransport]

[There are a few days at least a week of time that pass wherein Allumin, having fully intended to go sooner to pop in for a discussion has managed not to do it for one reason or another. It's the kind of "Well, I will try again tomorrow" that just keeps happening until it's embarrassing, and then in joining the Research division he hears a term that sounds familiar enough to make him want to bury his head in his hands for a while.

It's definitely outside of the recommended window of time when a new face appears awkwardly peering in around the corner of doorway into the Project Felandaris offices.]

Excuse me, would you be Madame de Foncé? [what was it Tony had said...?] ...de Fonz?

[altusimperius]

[continued from here]

There is a lot to process in this moment: how still and quiet Allumin suddenly is, the hand gripping his shirt and drawing him near, the forcefulness. For someone who can play convincingly self-assured, Benedict finds that his thoughts are suddenly falling all over themselves to be addressed first: the realization that he's been had, the realization that he likes that he's been had, the heat building in him (both above and below) at the hot breath on his face.

"...oh," is all he manages to say, and in this moment he also realizes he doesn't tend to do this stone sober, and is a lot less suave than he was playing at.
Fortunately, he's pretty good at blocking out the last thought ('what would Mother think if she knew') in favor of trying to meet Allumin's lips with his own.

[voidtransport]

When Benedict tries to close the space between their lips, tries to initiate a kiss, he leans back to deny him.

"Needy already?" he asks, his words twisting his lips into a coy smile. "Well, that won't do at all."

One hand wanders upward, at least offering some gratification of touch in the form of Allumin's thumb running over his lips. His other one also releases the grip on his shirt, but lingers over his chest. He himself is unsure of where this is coming from within him, but seeing Benedict wanting fills him with confidence. Makes him feel in control.

"Having patience only makes the satisfaction sweeter."

[altusimperius]

Although utterly unused to being denied anything in this realm, Benedict is, for lack of a better word, intrigued. He blinks rapidly in surprise when Allumin leans away, but maintains his rapt attention, giving a quick and subtle little nod when it becomes clear that there's some manner of plan in play.
He's here for it.

[voidtransport]

"Good."

His thumb grazes along Benedict's lips again before moving away to firmly grasp his face by the chin. Hazel eyes bear down deep into his dark ones, and there is a brief shuddering exhale that betrays Allumin's nervousness (and also maybe a bit of excitement hm) at so much deliberate eye contact compared to his usually more avoidant gaze.

"Before we go too far, I want you to give me a safeword. If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, if at any point you want - need - to stop, you have to tell me." It is both an order and also an earnest request. He does not want to do anything that would hurt him genuinely, doesn't want to ruin the chance at any kind of relationship with Benedict.

[altusimperius]

Eliciting a little sound of alarm, Benedict breathes in quickly and meets Allumin's eyes, hesitating a moment before giving him another little nod.

"...um," he says stiffly, it being hard to move his jaw while it's being held, and all, "...Ventus."
He remembers talking about this with Colin, at some point-- but it was for Colin to say, and not for him. Or at least, it's unlikely he would have.

[voidtransport]

“Noted. Thank you.” And with that, he gives Benedict a kiss as a reward. It may not be the kind he’s hoping for though, because it’s soft, gentle, and very brief and over before it can really be savored.

Letting go of his chin, Allumin moves back once again and pulls the braid of his hair over his shoulder, unraveling the ribbon tied into it. The ribbon is quite long and made of sturdy material - a necessity to keep all of his hair neatly tied up but also for other reasons. As he does this, his eyes take the time to really make a thorough journey over Benedict’s frame and he wonders where will be most sensitive to which touch, and how much he’ll be able to explore before inevitably the other man has to go to work. This merits a bite of his lip and his cheeks flush as his imagination tries to conjure up thoughts of what sounds he’d make. He also wishes he had a longer bit of rope than just his hair tie, but it will be enough for now.

“I was thinking about how wonderful you’d look if I tied you up,” he says, but he doesn’t follow it with a question as to whether or not Benedict would like that or wants him to. He wants Benedict to ask for it. If he begs? Even better.

Late night, baths, after the Ball in Hightown

[loversinverted]

The night had been...confusing.

Diabhall had been cooped up in the Gallows for what had felt like so long, stepping out to something as grandiose as a society event was more than stark. He was no stranger to parties, not at all; the bit of it that struck him as novel was the fact that no one really knew who he was. There was no one vying for his attentions.

Well. Not exactly.

The thing he had certainly not counted on was finding perhaps the only person he would actually regret never seeing again. But...why is that, exactly, he wonders? They had been intimate in the past, certainly, but he also had no shortage of paid company who served that purpose. He had enjoyed seeing the younger elf, but some of the things he had found himself doing at that party felt...strange. Uncomfortable. Aberrations.

For the moment, he is leaning back in the bath, long white hair fanning around his slender frame on the water's surface. His nightclothes are neatly folded nearby, black leather collar placed on top as if in a place of honor. Lost in his own contemplation, he's staring off into the middle distance, idly tracing little patterns in the ripples of the bath.

Peaceful. Alone.

As usual.

hey, come here often?

[voidtransport]

As he begins stepping into the baths, he tries to tell himself that the cut of a familiar figure in its waters could be anyone - could just be someone he doesn't know that works in some other part of the Gallows, that it's not a one-hundred percent guarantee of who he thinks it is. But then, of course, he sees the collar resting upon the little pile of clothes and while it's still possible it could be someone else there is an even greater likelihood that it is who he expects.

It shouldn't make his pulse quicken the way it does. After all, he's bathed with his - Eros - he's bathed with Eros and they are two parts of the same person, technically. So it's not unusual, it shouldn't be anything to be nervous about. They are just bathing in the same space. It's not as if they'd even be bathing together, everyone bathes here (hopefully, hopefully everyone bathes). Still, there is a moment of hesitation as he fights his urge to leave and come back later.

No, that's silly. He should just carry on and pay Diabhall no mind.

So, with light steps, he approaches the water and sets his things beside the bathing pool before stepping in. Despite choosing not to entirely evade the man, he still chooses a spot that's a few feet away, leaving a generous amount of personal space between them.

Nah, new here. You the lifeguard?

[loversinverted]

Upon hearing the entrance of another person, Diabhall briefly flicks his glance in the direction of the entrance - and then away again before he can be caught looking. Of course. This certainly tracks with the way the rest of the night has gone, after all.

For a few minutes he is silent, facing away, letting the younger elf settle in. They have both been through such a peculiar day, and perhaps it would be best to let the dust settle...but then, of course, they certainly need the private conversation.

He turns the situation over in his head for a bit, still soaking there, unmoving.

Then, finally, he breaks the stillness with voice alone.

"...Good evening, Allumin."

why yes, and i saw you didn't have a lifeguard at your beach

[voidtransport]

"Good evening, Mr. Min-- Diabhall," he says, the informality of it feeling awkward on his tongue. But they're equals here, so there's no need to be formal with him here, right?

As he unties the braid in his hair and carefully unravels it, all he can think about now is their encounter. The joke about meeting each other again with the wine, the sight of him and Loki dancing together, then his own dance after that he has a sneaking feeling Diabhall watched (which is such a vain thought but it just feels true)... Seeing the collar again, peeking out from his robes, and now carefully sitting on ceremony a few feet away...

He's staring, and he probably shouldn't be.

this isn't a beach, this is a bathtub

[loversinverted]

Diabhall, on the other hand, does not turn to look at first. Something tells him he is being stared at, but he pays it no mind - lost a bit in his own thoughts. The younger elf stumbles on his name, and he is all at once all too aware of the shift in dynamic between them now. They really aren't the mentor and student anymore, are they? But what does that mean, exactly?

He isn't sure.

There is a long period of silence before he finally shifts, turning to face Allumin and meeting his stare. He appears completely unbothered by being looked at, even as he is, bare and willowy there in the water. For a beat, he still doesn't speak...and then, finally, the words come out.

Hesitation?

"...I would like to apologize for my...conduct this evening." A small clearing of the throat. "I have been feeling a bit unwell since my arrival, and my behavior upon finding you was...stilted, at best."

Idly, he begins to comb his fingers through the sheet of his long white hair, separating the strands.

For anyone else, it would seem a nervous motion.

[voidtransport]

His behavior had been a bit unusual from what he remembered, but he later wrote it off as a case of things he didn't know or remember about the man. Or a side of him he hadn't seen before in any capacity. It was easy enough to justify.

But between Diabhall's own words on the matter, and the way he seems different even now makes him wonder... How much did being summoned here and processed into the rules of this world change him? Visually, he is at least mostly the same. Internally... Well, there were the circumstances with Eros.

Would that have affected this, or would this have affected that?

There's silence as he thinks about all of this and what to say.

"You don't have to apologize. I don't know how much you've heard or discussed with others hear about the theories behind rifters and our existence here, but - obviously, in both our cases - it can change things about you." A moment of pause, considering a thought as he begins to go about washing himself.

"Would you feel better about what's happening if we looked at it like a research project? Collecting data and evaluating it to see if we can find an answer? I could see if there's anything else that's relevant archived in the Felandaris offices and cross-reference it even."

crystal, the evening after Closet Party

[altusimperius]

So.

[Without preamble, no doubt because he'd psyche himself out if he thought too hard:]

...were you serious?

[voidtransport]

Of course I was! Abby is very cool when you get to know her, still don't understand why she was upset - [oh, wait]

Oh, about the other thing, the thing I offered. [ahem] y-Yes, I was serious about that too...

[altusimperius]

[Oh come on, he can't-- all right, there we go. A pause as it soaks in.

Then,]

Well.

I'm interested.

[voidtransport]

You're interested? [Any attempt from keeping himself sounding too excited about it fail in part with how his voice cracks as he mirrors the words back. He almost immediately clears his throat after and there's the soft sound of fabric shifting like he's smoothing out his clothes to recompose himself.]

I should be straightforward with you - my, um, specialty with the subject is not traditional training.

We can do more traditional training if you prefer though. I could stand to be better at taking hits in a fight myself. [So many unsaid implications.]

[altusimperius]

[With hesitation more shy than uncertain,]

that's all right. [Can Allumin hear his heart thundering over the crystal? Why is it being so loud, anyway?]

I'd-- we can-- try it this way first.

[voidtransport]

Alright then. Would you prefer to start modestly with just my bare hands, or do you... have any sort of tools in mind you'd like me to use?

[After the encounter they had, he writes off any hesitation as any lingering embarrassment from that whole ordeal and doesn't do much reading into it.

Laser-focused.]

secret satinalia;

[unshut]

On the day itself, waiting in Allumin's mail cubby, is a pin neat parcel wrapped in calico cotton and tied with a length of plain twine. Inside the fabric is a sturdy journal bound in leather, the blank pages firmly saddle stitched into place. The whole arrangement can be secured with leather ties. Accompanying the journal are a number of packets of powdered inks in a variety of colors, and a sturdy wooden dip pen.

And because books and writing is boring, there is also smart little knife with a glossy wooden handle included in the set. Maybe it's for sharpening the pen with.

The note with it reads simply:

Happy Satinalia! -Fitcher