[It really must be late if that's all Wysteria has to say on the subject of their questionable physical provenance and instead simply shifts the two ruined sheets to the edge of the table where they might dry enough to recover, then sets her cheek back against her knuckles and returns to her sidebar math.
Or maybe it has more to do with the particulars of the mess in question. The general shape of it is legalese, half of it marked with some minor seal of the Viscount's Keep, interposed with various letters of writ and addendums and notices of estate levies and—]
I'm doing the bookkeeping. There's never time for it during the day and I've a meeting with my solicitor tomorrow. [Scratch, scratch, scratch says that familiar silvered pen.] What's kept you so late?
Nothing. [ He answers, tone absent enough to offset the suspicious quickness of it. Because there's nothing suspicious about it, which he decides a beat later, adding: ] Crossbows. I've been researching the local tech.
[ "Local" meaning "the scope of the entirety of Thedas", of course. ] Trying to work out what they've worked out and what they haven't, which— apparently property ownership hasn't changed much in a few theoretical centuries, has it?
[ He's lifted one of the dozens of letters to squint at it. The wording's different, but the spirit's the same: everything in triplicate, very annoying. ] Is it the same back in— [ Squinting slightly more, now, clearly digging deep for this one and sounding very unsure: ] ... Kalvad?
[While underlining a value in her notes: ] Property ownership, or crossbows?
[is an absent question that she resolves for herself in the following beat, glancing across the array of paperwork as if seeing them for the—well, she has spent far too much time with them to imagine it is for the first time, but in a new light perhaps?]
You know, I have no idea. I never managed a house there. Is it very difficult in— [uh oh; a long pause follows. Has she asked where he came from? Earth, apparently, but with any more specificity than that?]
Earth. [ He answers, very helpfully, because otherwise he'd have to pick between three countries. ] And I wouldn't know, either.
[ Slightly distracted. He's dragging out a second chair to take a seat, then he reaches for a few more stray papers, stacking them unevenly as he half-heartedly pages through. ] I mean— I do, and yes, it's the worst. But I've never actually managed a house, either. Work had us moving around too much to settle.
[ He casts her a quick look, curious. ] Were you—
[ ..... waiting for marriage?? Can women own property in Kalvad?????? Is he making completely wild and offensive assumptions because Tony made a Jane Austen joke one time??????? After some quick recalculations: ] Living with family?
[That's not what she was asking, Mr. Fitz says the faintly labored look she shoots in his direction, but it is late and if he doesn't care to be specific she will hardly fight his tooth and nail for it. Not in this hour anyway.]
I lived with my parents in their country house until my selection in the national lottery. I had been almost a year in the capitol studying under the care of a Master before stumbling my way in this direction.
[At last she begins to transfer her worked out values into a ledger and across a series of matching documents.]
Was it your work only, or does you wife have an occupation as well?
[ Totally impervious to that Look by way of still eyeballing the legalese, ]
Same occupation. Well, [ He sets the stack down, somewhat tidy, and leans back in his chair. ] Same employer, SHIELD. We're both in research, but her specialty's biochem.
[ She might've figured out SHIELD from Tony's sarcastic commentary, but just in case. He's answering on autopilot while he chews on her answer, pieces it together with what he already knows. A lottery system for magic school. ]
So what's after graduation, then— research? Teaching?
Biochem, [is a gentle repeat for a word she doesn't understand while her hand is in motion.
The papers, the endless sea of papers, paint a picture of such convolution that there is virtually no way that it hasn't been engineered on purpose. It is an endless series of recursive references where document a requires document b and document b requires both c and a, and all of them noted with some fee or taxation of approval writ. Maybe all property in Kirkwall is so difficult to manage; the city is certainly limited in the directions it might expand. But here and there, freckled in the documentation, are notes referencing certain irregularities with respect to lines of inheritance. Charges for hours a solicitor was forced to sit in consultation with a Chantry representative, and—]
It would depend on my specialization. At some point between two and four years, every apprentice appears before the College board and their Talent is evaluated, at which point they are referred away from their original Master—who is meant to be something of a generalist—to an educator practicing in their required field. And then in five more years, I would have taken a second series of qualification exams and begun a compulsory two year service for the government. From there, I might either have signed a contract extension or simply obtained my licenses and gone to do whatever I pleased.
[ Years are a little flexible, but sounds like "magic school" is exactly right. University and then grad school, just with magic instead of... well, and numbers. He's seen some of her weird charts. ]
What's that look like? The government service.
[ It could mean a lot of things. It's strangely familiar, is the thing: SHIELD academy, funneling nerds into service. Combat, sometimes. SHIELD's outside of the government, proudly, but he's not about to pretend they aren't always running parallel. ]
Biochem— biological chemistry. It's the study of chemical processes in living organisms, so— figuring out how living things work, just on a very, very small level.
Ah, so something of a naturalist. [How charming. Wysteria imagines her with pleasantly round spectacles.] It must be rather pleasant to be wed to someone so similar to yourself, only without the conflict of overlapping interests.
[She has finally finished this particular problem, and pauses in the work to set the pen aside and work a cramp out of her hand.]
As to the service, it is quite varied. Some magicians attend to diplomatic service or industrial development, and others are sent to assist in the war.
[ The naturalist assessment prompts a rare smile, brow furrowed. Jemma'd kindly say yes, sort of, then (also) kindly elaborate on the history of her field and the things it does and doesn't inherit from natural history. Fitz says nothing, just keeps the quiet amusement for himself. ]
Yeah. It is rather pleasant. [ A hint of sarcasm, disgustingly fond. The nostalgia feels like quicksand. His pivot away's subtle, though; easy when his curiosity's genuine. He's abandoned any semblance of proper posture, sunk lazily against the back of his chair, arms crossed. ]
Oh no. Not unless they are very well connected; no, a magician is sent where he or she is deemed most useful for their service term in much the same way their field of study is determined by whatever talent they are most skilled in. The system has been streamlined for efficacy in order to educate the greatest number of magicians in the shortest period of time.
[Perhaps it is the lateness of the hour, or the fact that she would rather be doing anything but finances, or simply the satisfaction of discussing a thing that she is the unquestionable authority on, but there is something agreeable to this. They should have lateness conversations more often; perhaps Mr. Fitz would be slightly less prone to argue through subsequent others.]
Did your employer arrange the introduction? Between yourself and your wife. Or were you acquainted prior to the work?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[It really must be late if that's all Wysteria has to say on the subject of their questionable physical provenance and instead simply shifts the two ruined sheets to the edge of the table where they might dry enough to recover, then sets her cheek back against her knuckles and returns to her sidebar math.
Or maybe it has more to do with the particulars of the mess in question. The general shape of it is legalese, half of it marked with some minor seal of the Viscount's Keep, interposed with various letters of writ and addendums and notices of estate levies and—]
I'm doing the bookkeeping. There's never time for it during the day and I've a meeting with my solicitor tomorrow. [Scratch, scratch, scratch says that familiar silvered pen.] What's kept you so late?
no subject
[ "Local" meaning "the scope of the entirety of Thedas", of course. ] Trying to work out what they've worked out and what they haven't, which— apparently property ownership hasn't changed much in a few theoretical centuries, has it?
[ He's lifted one of the dozens of letters to squint at it. The wording's different, but the spirit's the same: everything in triplicate, very annoying. ] Is it the same back in— [ Squinting slightly more, now, clearly digging deep for this one and sounding very unsure: ] ... Kalvad?
no subject
[is an absent question that she resolves for herself in the following beat, glancing across the array of paperwork as if seeing them for the—well, she has spent far too much time with them to imagine it is for the first time, but in a new light perhaps?]
You know, I have no idea. I never managed a house there. Is it very difficult in— [uh oh; a long pause follows. Has she asked where he came from? Earth, apparently, but with any more specificity than that?]
no subject
[ Slightly distracted. He's dragging out a second chair to take a seat, then he reaches for a few more stray papers, stacking them unevenly as he half-heartedly pages through. ] I mean— I do, and yes, it's the worst. But I've never actually managed a house, either. Work had us moving around too much to settle.
[ He casts her a quick look, curious. ] Were you—
[ ..... waiting for marriage?? Can women own property in Kalvad?????? Is he making completely wild and offensive assumptions because Tony made a Jane Austen joke one time??????? After some quick recalculations: ] Living with family?
no subject
I lived with my parents in their country house until my selection in the national lottery. I had been almost a year in the capitol studying under the care of a Master before stumbling my way in this direction.
[At last she begins to transfer her worked out values into a ledger and across a series of matching documents.]
Was it your work only, or does you wife have an occupation as well?
no subject
Same occupation. Well, [ He sets the stack down, somewhat tidy, and leans back in his chair. ] Same employer, SHIELD. We're both in research, but her specialty's biochem.
[ She might've figured out SHIELD from Tony's sarcastic commentary, but just in case. He's answering on autopilot while he chews on her answer, pieces it together with what he already knows. A lottery system for magic school. ]
So what's after graduation, then— research? Teaching?
[ entertaining at birthday parties ]
no subject
The papers, the endless sea of papers, paint a picture of such convolution that there is virtually no way that it hasn't been engineered on purpose. It is an endless series of recursive references where document a requires document b and document b requires both c and a, and all of them noted with some fee or taxation of approval writ. Maybe all property in Kirkwall is so difficult to manage; the city is certainly limited in the directions it might expand. But here and there, freckled in the documentation, are notes referencing certain irregularities with respect to lines of inheritance. Charges for hours a solicitor was forced to sit in consultation with a Chantry representative, and—]
It would depend on my specialization. At some point between two and four years, every apprentice appears before the College board and their Talent is evaluated, at which point they are referred away from their original Master—who is meant to be something of a generalist—to an educator practicing in their required field. And then in five more years, I would have taken a second series of qualification exams and begun a compulsory two year service for the government. From there, I might either have signed a contract extension or simply obtained my licenses and gone to do whatever I pleased.
no subject
What's that look like? The government service.
[ It could mean a lot of things. It's strangely familiar, is the thing: SHIELD academy, funneling nerds into service. Combat, sometimes. SHIELD's outside of the government, proudly, but he's not about to pretend they aren't always running parallel. ]
Biochem— biological chemistry. It's the study of chemical processes in living organisms, so— figuring out how living things work, just on a very, very small level.
[ Would Jemma approve of this summary. Unsure. ]
no subject
[She has finally finished this particular problem, and pauses in the work to set the pen aside and work a cramp out of her hand.]
As to the service, it is quite varied. Some magicians attend to diplomatic service or industrial development, and others are sent to assist in the war.
no subject
Yeah. It is rather pleasant. [ A hint of sarcasm, disgustingly fond. The nostalgia feels like quicksand. His pivot away's subtle, though; easy when his curiosity's genuine. He's abandoned any semblance of proper posture, sunk lazily against the back of his chair, arms crossed. ]
Sent. Have they got any choice?
no subject
[Perhaps it is the lateness of the hour, or the fact that she would rather be doing anything but finances, or simply the satisfaction of discussing a thing that she is the unquestionable authority on, but there is something agreeable to this. They should have lateness conversations more often; perhaps Mr. Fitz would be slightly less prone to argue through subsequent others.]
Did your employer arrange the introduction? Between yourself and your wife. Or were you acquainted prior to the work?