Sometimes it feels like nothing changes, yeah. [ She is expecting it this time, so she keeps a good hold on the broom handle and the wood CRACKS against the glass very impressively, very loudly.
And the broom handle breaks, while the bottle merely loses its neck.]
Woah. Strong bottle. [ Athessa laughs and looks for something else to throw, and something else to use as a bat. ] D'ya ever feel like you've changed a lot, but nobody really...notices?
[ This plate would be interesting to Frisbee at him, but first: the matching, handleless teacup. Athessa lobs it high, so Matty will have to track its trajectory to hit it. ]
[The full break on Athessa's side had made him smirk, but now he's ready, plank of wood raised in anticipation. There's time enough to answer, though.]
Yeah, 'course I do, I'm bloody seventeen which makes me, what. Ten years of age to everyone? Nothing I can do to prove I've done any changing. Except grow a beard, I reckon.
[She throws the teacup and Matthias has to stop talking so he can shuffle back, craning his neck as he tries to figure out where he needs to be to get the hit. He ends up being off by a bit, and ends up doing an awkward downswing, trying to catch the cup and smash it to the ground--but the swing whiffs by, and the cup hits the floor and cracks.]
Aw, no, you can't grow a beard! [ Athessa whines, loose-limbing her way to an old broken chair. Its legs are carved in such a way that breaking one off should make a good club. ] It'd totally ruin our friendship if I had to be jealous of you growing a fucking beard, Matty.
[ The chair splinters with one swift kick to the seat, and she gives the leg a few test-swings. One, two, and on the third her smile fades into something a little more rueful. ]
I don't think you'll have to worry about that for long. Not you.
You could tie your hair round the front of your face. [He gives her a little grin as he grabs up a porcelain sphere.] Don't worry, though. Couldn't grow one if I tried.
[The sphere turns out to be a doorknob. It had been painted, once, the pattern now small and faded and all but flaked away. Matthias rubs his thumb against it, flaking off a bit more. He tosses the doorknob and catches it again in his hand.]
What makes you say that? That I'm not going to have to worry?
I dunno. Just that you're seventeen and already a super capable mage, ya know? If you weren't a mage and there weren't a war on, you'd have to wait until you got married or were successful at some trade to be taken seriously.
But it's just a matter of time before your name's said the same way anybody says Rowntree.
[ She really does believe that Matty is due some recognition, overdue respect, no matter how much she'd rather let him stay a kid a bit longer.
She holds the chair leg at the ready. The memory of Matthias standing up for her in Ghislain plays. That's another way he has a leg up, but she'll keep that to herself. ]
[Matthias scoffs, casts his eyes down and scuffs the heel of his boot against the dirty floor of the warehouse. His incredulity doesn't wash out how pleased he is to hear her say that. Embarrassment suffuses all of what he's feeling and shows most obviously, especially in the red that tints his ears.]
I dunno about that. I'd need a surname for starters. [He glances up at her with a shy grin, an acknowledgement of how stupid the pseudo joke is.] Thanks, though. Means a great deal hearing that from you. Think you're saying that 'cause you're fond of me, but--
[He gives the doorknob another toss, catches it--then winds up for the throw. Overhand, a good even throw that comes in straight for her. A good easy hit.]
[ A satisfying hit, too. The club-end of the chair leg smacks hard against the porcelain, disintegrating the flaking paint into a fine powder and the knob itself into a million tiny pieces. Athessa grins and taps the dust off of her makeshift bat. Tap tap. ]
Sure I'm fond of ya, but more than that I trust you, [ Why else would she have turned to him to help save Mhavos and Vanadi in the dream? That much was her own doing. As she looks about for something else to throw, she starts to tie her hair into a little makeshift mustache, just under her nose. ]
If it was just fondness, I'd be tryin' to keep you away from the war stuff so you could just be a kid a while longer. [ Ooh, perfect, she's found a doll. Body of cloth, head of clay, face once painted but faded due to the weather that manages to get in through the roof of the warehouse.
She holds it up, and drops her voice a little, pretending to be an old man. ] Enchanter Squarebrush, what say you? Just the head on this one?
[ The body would be fun to hit, but wouldn't break. ]
[The explosion of porcelain makes Matthias cheer, a genuinely pleased little yeah! and a fist pump. He grabs up his bat, readying himself for whatever she finds to chuck back at him.
Okay but being a kid?]
Eurgh, [with feeling,] and I wouldn't thank you for that. I was a kid fifteen years ago.
[Still kid enough to grin at her moustache and put on voice. He pitches his own into posh territory, nose in the air--puts one finger under his nose in place of a moustache of his own--]
I quite agree, Milady Athessa, the head and only the head. Anything more t'wouldn't be sporting! [--And before she can try to surprise him, he grabs firm hold of his plank and readies himself.]
[ His claim at being a kid when he was all of two years old gets a dismissive wave of her hand, limp-wristed enough to suggest: 'tis neither here nor there. ] You were a baby fifteen years ago.
[ Her attention then turns to the doll, and she tries to wrest the little clay ball off of the cloth body with only a little more effort than she thinks it should require. It's a sturdy doll. ]
I was a kid fifteen years ago — [ Oof. Erg. C'mon, you stupid doll— ] — not that — what the hell, this is the strongest doll in the world — not that you'd be able to tell by — grab its feet, yeah? Teamwork —
A kid's a baby that can walk and talk — [ Is her opinion, but she yanks and twists on the doll's head at the same moment that Matty does and with a quiet little pop! off comes the top.
Athessa manages to catch herself before she falls, but it's a close enough thing that she can't help but crack up a bit, laughing with one hand braced on a big seat-less settee and the other gripping a doll's head. ]
[Matthias isn't so lucky, or so coordinated. The latter of these is of little surprise. He falls backwards, right on his arse. His free hand slaps the floor and stops him from cracking his head. The doll's lower half is still clutched in his other hand. Surprised, he laughs.]
Tell you what, mate, no kid could've pulled it apart. Nearly indestructible. Ow--
[He shifts, rubs at his arse with a wince.]
Can't believe I took more damage than the bloody doll.
Ah! Do you hear that, my dear? [ Back in her deeper voice, waggling a stern finger at the doll's head. Is she even holding it the right way? With all the paint faded it's hard to tell which side is the face. Maybe she's talking into its ear. ] You're to be revenged on for your foul misdeeds against the Marches!
[ Athessa jogs back to where she'd been pitching, tossing the clay sphere into the air and catching it again. ]
And you have the honor of being whacked to bits by none other than Senior Enchanter Matthias Dollsmasher!
[ In a higher pitched, and equally silly voice: ] Oh, he's very good, I hear.
[Pleased, but embarrassed, but pleased, Matthias laughs. She's joking, clearly she's joking. His ears have gone a little pink all the same.]
Yeah, yeah, yeah-- You're a numpty. Dollsmasher, honestly--
[He's grinning as he taps the plank of wood against the floor, readying himself. It gives him a good reason to look down at the floor so she might overlook his flushed face and gooney smile.]
Right, let's have it, Dolltosser Athessa--fastest and best throw in the Marches, that's you--between us, we'll slaughter her!
The best! The fastest! The whacked-to-bits-est! [ She winds up and throws, a good ol' fastball headed straight for where Matthias will swing. As soon as it's exploded into ceramic powder, Athessa throws her arms up in triumph. ]
That's what you get when you fuck with us! The Marcher Doll Slaughter Duo! Yeah! You mess with the best, you die like the rest!
[ Sure, she's joking about the names, but the joy and affection is genuine. And the exhilaration! Silly to get so pumped over simply hitting a ball with a stick, but sometimes they need a little silliness, ya know?
When her victorious laughing and whooping subsides, she turns a grin on Matthias. ]
Have you thought about it? Giving yourself a name? I don't remember you ever mentioning whether or not it was something that actually matters to you.
[Her exhilaration is contagious, and when she throws her arms up, Matthias does as well. The plank of wood clatters to the floor. Marcher Doll Slaughter Duo makes him laugh aloud, chasing away the lingering feelings--at least for now.]
Dunno what I would do with a name. Or where I would get one.
[He turns to the little pile of junk adjacent to him, and toes at it, trying to see what he might throw next without touching any of it.]
I didn't come from people with a surname. That's where you get 'em, right? And choosing my own, I dunno how I would.
[ She shrugs. ] Make one up, I guess? I dunno. They gotta come from somewhere don't they? My clan name means Land of Song, which kinda means we only got that name once we'd got a reputation for singing, right?
[ She taps the club-end of the chair leg on the toe of her boot, idly. In the dream, had her daughter been of clan Sulahnan, or Atish'an? Or Cora di Vadarta, perhaps? Athessa shakes her head. No point thinking about it, because it didn't happen. ]
I bet Bastien'd help you come up with one. Or you could use mine, if you wanted. Matthias Sulahnan? [ It's an easy thing to offer, since the name should go to the people she cares most about. Her family, as it is now. ]
Or maybe you could take Laura's, if she didn't mind.
Only thing I've got a reputation for is fire and cocking things up, sometimes. 'Matthias Fire Cock-Up'.
[Matthias Sulahnan. Matthias Kint. He crouches down and gets more involved in sorting through the rubbish, pulling at it with his hands.]
I haven't seen Laura in a bit. Not since we all woke up. [And that's all right, maybe, is what he should say--or more honestly, and I don't know about that. He bites at the inside of his cheek.] I don't mind not having a surname. I don't come from anything. I reckon that's all right, and it's true, so. I dunno. I'd have to think about it.
[ The initial dubious look that she delivers in response to "Matthias Fire Cock-Up" doesn't stick around long enough for him to see it, as invested as he is in that pile of junk. It changes from that, to quiet consideration, trying to read what he's not saying in his body language, in what she can see in his face from this angle. ]
Alright, [ It's not a tough concession to make; if he doesn't mind, he doesn't mind, and neither does she. ] No way in hell I'm calling you Fire Cock-Up, in any case.
[ Tap tap, the chair leg against her boot again. ]
Did something happen with you two? When I saw her in the dream, she said you were getting married.
[And it was good, which he doesn't say, but squinches up his eyes as he roots determinedly through the pile of rubbish. Bottles and broken tea saucers. No more dolls.
[ Yeah, that was a dream. Half a shrug is all it's worth, perhaps.
But blood magic? That's not a dream, good or otherwise. Her mind doesn't go to Calpurnia drawing on the life leeched from Byerly, the horrible sight of Isaac's malformed face in that Venatori stronghold. Her mind goes back to Orlais, before even the first winter of shared dreaming; the tug of magic on her veins that even now makes her skin crawl to think of it, makes her fingers twitch, curl into a fist, then release.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2021-02-15 10:51 pm (UTC)We've come a long way since then. [ Haven't they? ]
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Date: 2021-02-15 11:01 pm (UTC)[He winds up--overhand again--and chucks the bottle. She'll be expecting it this time, so it's more straightforward a throw by default.]
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Date: 2021-02-15 11:16 pm (UTC)And the broom handle breaks, while the bottle merely loses its neck.]
Woah. Strong bottle. [ Athessa laughs and looks for something else to throw, and something else to use as a bat. ] D'ya ever feel like you've changed a lot, but nobody really...notices?
[ This plate would be interesting to Frisbee at him, but first: the matching, handleless teacup. Athessa lobs it high, so Matty will have to track its trajectory to hit it. ]
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Date: 2021-02-16 03:53 am (UTC)Yeah, 'course I do, I'm bloody seventeen which makes me, what. Ten years of age to everyone? Nothing I can do to prove I've done any changing. Except grow a beard, I reckon.
[She throws the teacup and Matthias has to stop talking so he can shuffle back, craning his neck as he tries to figure out where he needs to be to get the hit. He ends up being off by a bit, and ends up doing an awkward downswing, trying to catch the cup and smash it to the ground--but the swing whiffs by, and the cup hits the floor and cracks.]
Shit.
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Date: 2021-02-16 04:28 am (UTC)[ The chair splinters with one swift kick to the seat, and she gives the leg a few test-swings. One, two, and on the third her smile fades into something a little more rueful. ]
I don't think you'll have to worry about that for long. Not you.
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Date: 2021-02-16 03:19 pm (UTC)[The sphere turns out to be a doorknob. It had been painted, once, the pattern now small and faded and all but flaked away. Matthias rubs his thumb against it, flaking off a bit more. He tosses the doorknob and catches it again in his hand.]
What makes you say that? That I'm not going to have to worry?
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Date: 2021-02-16 03:43 pm (UTC)I dunno. Just that you're seventeen and already a super capable mage, ya know? If you weren't a mage and there weren't a war on, you'd have to wait until you got married or were successful at some trade to be taken seriously.
But it's just a matter of time before your name's said the same way anybody says Rowntree.
[ She really does believe that Matty is due some recognition, overdue respect, no matter how much she'd rather let him stay a kid a bit longer.
She holds the chair leg at the ready. The memory of Matthias standing up for her in Ghislain plays. That's another way he has a leg up, but she'll keep that to herself. ]
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Date: 2021-02-16 08:11 pm (UTC)I dunno about that. I'd need a surname for starters. [He glances up at her with a shy grin, an acknowledgement of how stupid the pseudo joke is.] Thanks, though. Means a great deal hearing that from you. Think you're saying that 'cause you're fond of me, but--
[He gives the doorknob another toss, catches it--then winds up for the throw. Overhand, a good even throw that comes in straight for her. A good easy hit.]
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Date: 2021-02-16 09:24 pm (UTC)Sure I'm fond of ya, but more than that I trust you, [
Why else would she have turned to him to help save Mhavos and Vanadi in the dream? That much was her own doing. As she looks about for something else to throw, she starts to tie her hair into a little makeshift mustache, just under her nose. ]
If it was just fondness, I'd be tryin' to keep you away from the war stuff so you could just be a kid a while longer. [ Ooh, perfect, she's found a doll. Body of cloth, head of clay, face once painted but faded due to the weather that manages to get in through the roof of the warehouse.
She holds it up, and drops her voice a little, pretending to be an old man. ] Enchanter Squarebrush, what say you? Just the head on this one?
[ The body would be fun to hit, but wouldn't break. ]
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Date: 2021-02-16 10:49 pm (UTC)Okay but being a kid?]
Eurgh, [with feeling,] and I wouldn't thank you for that. I was a kid fifteen years ago.
[Still kid enough to grin at her moustache and put on voice. He pitches his own into posh territory, nose in the air--puts one finger under his nose in place of a moustache of his own--]
I quite agree, Milady Athessa, the head and only the head. Anything more t'wouldn't be sporting! [--And before she can try to surprise him, he grabs firm hold of his plank and readies himself.]
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Date: 2021-02-16 11:29 pm (UTC)[ Her attention then turns to the doll, and she tries to wrest the little clay ball off of the cloth body with only a little more effort than she thinks it should require. It's a sturdy doll. ]
I was a kid fifteen years ago — [ Oof. Erg. C'mon, you stupid doll— ] — not that — what the hell, this is the strongest doll in the world — not that you'd be able to tell by — grab its feet, yeah? Teamwork —
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Date: 2021-02-17 03:53 am (UTC)[--But of course he drops his plank of wood and closes the distance between them, and grabs for the doll's feet as requested.]
Twist it, see if that does it. And I'll pull from this end. Three, two, one-- [A word he says with effort as he tugs sharply.]
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Date: 2021-02-17 04:11 am (UTC)Athessa manages to catch herself before she falls, but it's a close enough thing that she can't help but crack up a bit, laughing with one hand braced on a big seat-less settee and the other gripping a doll's head. ]
Damn, what's this thing made of?!
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Date: 2021-02-17 11:01 pm (UTC)Tell you what, mate, no kid could've pulled it apart. Nearly indestructible. Ow--
[He shifts, rubs at his arse with a wince.]
Can't believe I took more damage than the bloody doll.
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Date: 2021-02-17 11:30 pm (UTC)You alright? No fatal wounds?
[ Athessa moves over to offer Matthias a hand up, still softly chuckling at the both of them being trounced by a fucking doll. ]
Good ol' Free Marcher construction, eh?
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Date: 2021-02-18 02:10 am (UTC)[He accepts her hand up and hoists himself to his feet, brushing dust off of his cloak and trousers.]
You throw it at me and I'll get revenge for us both. Break it into bits and pieces. I'll show it fatal.
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Date: 2021-02-18 07:00 am (UTC)[ Athessa jogs back to where she'd been pitching, tossing the clay sphere into the air and catching it again. ]
And you have the honor of being whacked to bits by none other than Senior Enchanter Matthias Dollsmasher!
[ In a higher pitched, and equally silly voice: ] Oh, he's very good, I hear.
[ Deep voice again: ] The best, of course!
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Date: 2021-02-20 10:30 pm (UTC)Yeah, yeah, yeah-- You're a numpty. Dollsmasher, honestly--
[He's grinning as he taps the plank of wood against the floor, readying himself. It gives him a good reason to look down at the floor so she might overlook his flushed face and gooney smile.]
Right, let's have it, Dolltosser Athessa--fastest and best throw in the Marches, that's you--between us, we'll slaughter her!
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Date: 2021-02-21 03:41 am (UTC)That's what you get when you fuck with us! The Marcher Doll Slaughter Duo! Yeah! You mess with the best, you die like the rest!
[ Sure, she's joking about the names, but the joy and affection is genuine. And the exhilaration! Silly to get so pumped over simply hitting a ball with a stick, but sometimes they need a little silliness, ya know?
When her victorious laughing and whooping subsides, she turns a grin on Matthias. ]
Have you thought about it? Giving yourself a name? I don't remember you ever mentioning whether or not it was something that actually matters to you.
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Date: 2021-02-21 07:39 pm (UTC)Dunno what I would do with a name. Or where I would get one.
[He turns to the little pile of junk adjacent to him, and toes at it, trying to see what he might throw next without touching any of it.]
I didn't come from people with a surname. That's where you get 'em, right? And choosing my own, I dunno how I would.
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Date: 2021-02-21 08:15 pm (UTC)[ She taps the club-end of the chair leg on the toe of her boot, idly. In the dream, had her daughter been of clan Sulahnan, or Atish'an? Or Cora di Vadarta, perhaps? Athessa shakes her head. No point thinking about it, because it didn't happen. ]
I bet Bastien'd help you come up with one. Or you could use mine, if you wanted. Matthias Sulahnan? [ It's an easy thing to offer, since the name should go to the people she cares most about. Her family, as it is now. ]
Or maybe you could take Laura's, if she didn't mind.
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Date: 2021-02-21 10:43 pm (UTC)[Matthias Sulahnan. Matthias Kint. He crouches down and gets more involved in sorting through the rubbish, pulling at it with his hands.]
I haven't seen Laura in a bit. Not since we all woke up. [And that's all right, maybe, is what he should say--or more honestly, and I don't know about that. He bites at the inside of his cheek.] I don't mind not having a surname. I don't come from anything. I reckon that's all right, and it's true, so. I dunno. I'd have to think about it.
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Date: 2021-02-21 10:54 pm (UTC)Alright, [ It's not a tough concession to make; if he doesn't mind, he doesn't mind, and neither does she. ] No way in hell I'm calling you Fire Cock-Up, in any case.
[ Tap tap, the chair leg against her boot again. ]
Did something happen with you two? When I saw her in the dream, she said you were getting married.
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Date: 2021-02-21 11:11 pm (UTC)[And it was good, which he doesn't say, but squinches up his eyes as he roots determinedly through the pile of rubbish. Bottles and broken tea saucers. No more dolls.
After a beat, he decides, simply, to say it.]
Have you seen someone do blood magic before?
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Date: 2021-02-21 11:21 pm (UTC)But blood magic? That's not a dream, good or otherwise. Her mind doesn't go to Calpurnia drawing on the life leeched from Byerly, the horrible sight of Isaac's malformed face in that Venatori stronghold. Her mind goes back to Orlais, before even the first winter of shared dreaming; the tug of magic on her veins that even now makes her skin crawl to think of it, makes her fingers twitch, curl into a fist, then release.
She nods once, slightly. ]
I have.
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