[ Too bad no one knows Tony's basically a doctor yet.
Though apparently now it falls to Ellis to keep Wysteria from dying, since Tony is choosing this particular moment to start eating his cinnamon twists. He rounds the table and—
Just whacks Wysteria hard on the back. Nailed it. ]
[ A moment of concern manages to zither through the smugness when Choking Continues, and his spine stiffens a little in his chair like he's about to get up--
But then Ellis does that. That'll work. And he didn't even have to put down his pastry.
He does reach to slide her cup of chicory within reach. Helping. ]
[Somewhere, a man named Heimlich is staring into the middle distance and only later wonders where his thoughts wandered off too just then. Here, Wysteria gags once under the thump, then hocks up would-be murderous pastry with a sawing series of coughs.]
It was not [she gasp-sobs, pausing to down the cup's entire contents] an intimate moment!
If we could all just be cool for maybe two minutes. These are really good, by the way. [ Unperturbed by the saliva-y mass of pastry that just went flying. ]
[It's not proper tea; what does she look like, some kind of damned lady of fortune?
--She does not say, because she is busy choking down the contents of Ellis' sacrificed cup and using a scrap of paper to scrape away the murder weapon from where its unceremoniously splatted.]
I'm quite all right. [She spits, all the meager venom she can manage shot in Tony's direction.] Thank you, Mr. Ellis.
[ Ellis looks visibly fatigued at Tony's contradiction, and decides to let it pass. He can't. He'll just sit here and accept the idea that the weird tension was over the thing in Tony's chest.
Which Ellis is also not inquiring about at this juncture. ]
We are cool.
[ ha. ]
Very cool.
[ Somewhere in the depths of the house, there's a rattle, two thuds and a faint crash. Ellis sighs. ]
[ Hackles up immediately at the various kinds of looks he's getting after telling everyone to be cool, and he doesn't even have time to be charmed about Ellis repeating this colloquialism as he puts a hand over (lyrium glowing) heart. ]
Like any of what's happening here is my fault. I call on you personally to tell you we can do magic now, and this is the thanks I get.
How good are you at keeping secrets? [--this, to Ellis. ] Because that-- that's one. Also what do you think about the word 'Fade-iation'.
We [ and he tips a look to Wysteria ] have a means of using refined lyrium to generate magical energy and power enchantments. And we don't even have to be short and hairy to do it.
[ Don't even think about it. He draws his now partially filled cup back to himself. ]
Now there is the first sensible thing he's said in the last ten minutes. [To the room generally, most at large and steadfastly ignoring any looks whatsoever:] There is excellent coffee house a short walk from here - mind, they are not serving coffee presently, but they have a fair selection of import wines and brandies to substitute for the rest. If we are to be celebrating, I humbly propose that we retire there for the afternoon and get ourselves something better than this sorry stuff.
[The chicory is really a product of desperation; even her pride can be honest about that much.]
[ Tony's affirmative to Ellis is silence, where if he was wrong, there'd be correction. He let's the question posed to Wysteria stand by making a sweeping gesture between her and Ellis.
Go ahead. ]
Sooner we get on the same page, sooner we can hit the club.
[With one hand still on the teapot, she looks between them. And then back to Ellis. Wysteria scoffs - or tries to. It's closer to wordless blustering.]
Since always. Since I was sixteen. Or maybe before that, but it's all rather unclear. And it isn't the useful or interesting kind of magic as is done here, either. It's just-- [searching for a word this isn't insignificant] the convenient kind.
[So there. To Tony:]
Other people know, you know. I'm not keeping it a secret. Not really. I'm in the paperwork the Inquisition sent to the Chantry and everything. It's not my fault if no one asks or notices.
[ Ellis also looks at Tony, maybe in a bid for help. Was he supposed to have asked? He hasn't made a habit of trying to question people about their gifts, which had worked with Wardens but less so with Wysteria specifically. ]
Maybe we can have a demonstration next time.
[ Which club? What are they hitting with it? Also valid questions for Tony that he can hopefully just sense from the second look Ellis shoots at him. ]
Very diligent of you, Ms. Poppell, [ with a proper affectation, if only halfway across the Atlantic in accent rather than full mimicry.
He raps the table with his fingers, then gestures to Ellis, voice clipping back to normal. ]
Any other personal questions we should cover off before we go carousing? Real question. I don't want anything getting gossiped back to HQ because your itch wasn't scratched.
[Sensing their inevitable relocation and having no questions of her own, - except perhaps when Tony would like to sit down and diagram the internal workings of the mechnism; and if it is heart-adjacent, how difficult will be to conduct a more thorough mechanical study, and has he studied which runes specifically the item is inscribed with, and did he arrive with it, and was it a product of his dream and the Fade or was there some version of the Fade-iation device (ugh; she will put that word out of her mind, lest thinking of it too frequently give it any credibility) which existed in the place he came from, and if it is the latter then how is it different, and—
In any case, Wysteria promptly downs the rest of her chicory tea, sets the cup aside and immediately forgets its presence entirely as she rises to gather her cloak from its hook. Dirty dishes are a problem for some other hour, and it might be better to first put her questions in writing and submit them all at once to be certain she has covered everything.]
[ Ellis almost asks where they're going, but thinks better of it. Wysteria's putting her cloak on, Tony's committed; is Ellis really going to pick this moment to put his foot down? ]
No, I think that's everything.
[ Yes, surely there is nothing else that should be discussed about their personal lives.
However, when Ellis stands he begins clearing the table. The ghost does nothing but throw things, so it falls to him to ferry the cups and dishes to the sink as efficiently as he can. ]
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Though apparently now it falls to Ellis to keep Wysteria from dying, since Tony is choosing this particular moment to start eating his cinnamon twists. He rounds the table and—
Just whacks Wysteria hard on the back. Nailed it. ]
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But then Ellis does that. That'll work. And he didn't even have to put down his pastry.
He does reach to slide her cup of chicory within reach. Helping. ]
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It was not [she gasp-sobs, pausing to down the cup's entire contents] an intimate moment!
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Are you alright?
[ Followed by— ]
Have the rest of my tea.
[ Fellow Wardens with grievous battle wounds, easy peasy. One young lady having choked on a pastry, hard mode. ]
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[ He gestures a little with the twist. ]
If we could all just be cool for maybe two minutes. These are really good, by the way. [ Unperturbed by the saliva-y mass of pastry that just went flying. ]
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--She does not say, because she is busy choking down the contents of Ellis' sacrificed cup and using a scrap of paper to scrape away the murder weapon from where its unceremoniously splatted.]
I'm quite all right. [She spits, all the meager venom she can manage shot in Tony's direction.] Thank you, Mr. Ellis.
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Which Ellis is also not inquiring about at this juncture. ]
We are cool.
[ ha. ]
Very cool.
[ Somewhere in the depths of the house, there's a rattle, two thuds and a faint crash. Ellis sighs. ]
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[ Hackles up immediately at the various kinds of looks he's getting after telling everyone to be cool, and he doesn't even have time to be charmed about Ellis repeating this colloquialism as he puts a hand over (lyrium glowing) heart. ]
Like any of what's happening here is my fault. I call on you personally to tell you we can do magic now, and this is the thanks I get.
How good are you at keeping secrets? [--this, to Ellis. ] Because that-- that's one. Also what do you think about the word 'Fade-iation'.
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[She passes back one of the empty cups.]
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[ Sorry, questions on branding will have to wait. ]
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[Grumbled very, very, very low as she divides what little remains in the pot between their three cups.]
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[ Don't even think about it. He draws his now partially filled cup back to himself. ]
So we should probably be celebrating.
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[The chicory is really a product of desperation; even her pride can be honest about that much.]
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Ellis leans forward, elbows on the table. ]
So if I understand correctly—
[ Which he might, but let's double check. ]
The two of you have puzzled out a way to use lyrium for your work.
[ Whatever that might be. His bigger question is about safety rather than what they're getting up to. ]
And you [ pointing at Wysteria ] can already do some kind of magic since...?
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Go ahead. ]
Sooner we get on the same page, sooner we can hit the club.
[ This house smells weird. ]
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Since always. Since I was sixteen. Or maybe before that, but it's all rather unclear. And it isn't the useful or interesting kind of magic as is done here, either. It's just-- [searching for a word this isn't insignificant] the convenient kind.
[So there. To Tony:]
Other people know, you know. I'm not keeping it a secret. Not really. I'm in the paperwork the Inquisition sent to the Chantry and everything. It's not my fault if no one asks or notices.
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Maybe we can have a demonstration next time.
[ Which club? What are they hitting with it? Also valid questions for Tony that he can hopefully just sense from the second look Ellis shoots at him. ]
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He raps the table with his fingers, then gestures to Ellis, voice clipping back to normal. ]
Any other personal questions we should cover off before we go carousing? Real question. I don't want anything getting gossiped back to HQ because your itch wasn't scratched.
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In any case, Wysteria promptly downs the rest of her chicory tea, sets the cup aside and immediately forgets its presence entirely as she rises to gather her cloak from its hook. Dirty dishes are a problem for some other hour, and it might be better to first put her questions in writing and submit them all at once to be certain she has covered everything.]
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No, I think that's everything.
[ Yes, surely there is nothing else that should be discussed about their personal lives.
However, when Ellis stands he begins clearing the table. The ghost does nothing but throw things, so it falls to him to ferry the cups and dishes to the sink as efficiently as he can. ]
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[ And Tony puts way too much of one of his cinnamon twists in his mouth, then gestures kind of helplessly. He's eating, what're you gonna do.
He swings his coat back around his shoulders and grabs the second twist. They're really good. ]