tɦɛ iɳquiรitѳʀ (freemarched) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-08-22 17:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, maxwell trevelyan (the inquisitor), olivia moore |
Who: Max & Liv
What: Giving the self-proclaimed 'Seattle BFF' a tour of a certain medieval fortress (and indulging Liv's desire for a throne room selfie)
When: Within the past six days!
Where: Skyhold
Rating/Warnings: Nada, nada limonada
Status: Complete
It was really about time Max showed her his castle. After all it even had a name. How could he have waited so long to show his Seattle BFF? But whatever. No hard feelings. He was showing it to her now and that was good enough for her. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to give him a hard time though. That’s totes what besties were for. Liv was in a bit of awe as she approached Skyhold. She probably would have been more starstruck if she wasn’t so preoccupied with her phone. But she had tweets to reply to. Photos to instagram and snap. She was a busy girl. She did look up for one brief moment to knock on the huge doors but then she was back to furiously tapping at her phone. The fresh mountain air, so crisp and clean, was beautiful - perfect for actually breathing in and not focusing on your phone, but chalk it up to Liv’s diet. She was always a fun game of Russian roulette when it came to the brains she ingested - an interesting effect, Max thought, considering the corpses were pretty dead by the time she hacked into them to get her meals. But he was glad to show her Skyhold - it would eventually become a medieval-themed getaway of some kind, rooms rented out and obviously the fortress overall was a prime site for destination weddings. As of now, it wasn’t outfitted with electricity and plumbing yet - he’d get there though. One thing at a time. He’d been waiting for her in the entranceway, at the end of the long, sturdier-than-it-looked walkway which led to the front doors. After you passed beneath a stone archway or two, briefly shielded from the sun. The knock she gave echoed - probably some super strength in that, but then again, the doors were pretty heavy too. “Liv,” he teased, shaking his head when he saw her. “How are you even getting reception up here??” Because really. Really? “Come on in.” The service was spotty but Liv was managing. There was a lot to do after all. She had to stay on top of things or before she knew it there would be hundreds of new tweets. But right. Real life. Max. His castle. Although she had been paying so much attention to her phone that she nearly jump when Max actually spoke. “Hey!” she said happily finally glancing up from her phone. She greeted him with a hug. “Did anyone ever tell you that this place is like super out of the way? How’d you even know it was here?” Because really. This was one hell of a dream gift. Max returned the hug, prosthetic hand resting on her back for a moment, and he just laughed a little. “It’s pretty out of the way,” he agreed. “I got the throne first and then the war table appeared in my living room - the table was basically the Inquisition’s command center, where I would meet with my advisers and plan out strategy and everything. On the table there was a map of the Santa Ana mountains, showing where presumably Skyhold was.” So it was kind of a gamble to even come up here, not knowing with 100% certainty if it would pay off, but. Obviously it had. “Well, where would you like to start?” he asked, taking a look around them. In the main hall you could get a feel of the general aesthetics of the fortress, the renovations he’d done as the Inquisitor. The thick, velvet drapes that were Andrastian and what you’d generally find in Chantry buildings, the glass of the windows shaped and designed to honor the far-off locale of Par Vollen, the color scheme overall, black and red and gold, eye-catching and noble - that was all Tevinter. “There’s the garden, the tavern, the war room, the throne room, mage tower, my own quarters? Whichever.” Walking into the castle, she felt like she was in medieval times. With all the black, red, and gold and the velvet. She was about to comment on that when Max started listing all the different places. “You have a tavern? Like in the castle?” Damn this place was fancier than she thought. “That I have to see,” she said not even bothering to mask her excitement. “I want to see it all,” she added. “But let’s save the throne room for last.” Best for last type of thing. Though she was beginning to think this place didn’t have a single boring room. “Of course. It’s called the Herald’s Rest,” he said, referring to the tavern - not that Max was overly fond of the name, but the tavern had played an important role in the Inquisition. Drunken roles. “We had lots of dwarven ale there. Lots of games of Wicked Grace - and stripping. One of my advisers ended up naked pretty regularly, when he lost.” Oh, Cullen. He led the way, their footsteps echoing slightly - and the tavern itself was obvious by the sign out front, an artistic rendition of Andraste ‘saving’ the Inquisitor. The Herald, as Max was first referred to, before the Inquisition officially became a political presence in southern Thedas. When they got inside, it really did transport one back to medieval times - far away from the idea of modern day bars with neon signs flickering out front. Instead it was gold-on-gold with other rich colors, ceramic and glass, pewter cups, wooden benches and tables. “Sera was a friend of mine, she had the room up there,” Max gestured to the balcony. “It feels kind of empty without her now.” Considering her boisterous attitude especially. “Do you want any dwarven ale? You might even be able to taste it without the aid of hot sauce.” It was just that magical. And that godawful. “So not only do you have your very own tavern, but it even has a name?” Liv asked excitedly following him through Skyhold. She did take out her phone a few times to snap some pictures as they headed back outside and into the tavern. “Sounds like my kind of place,” Liv added as Max described the fun they had there. Although she had no idea what Wicked Grace was. Wow. Inside Herald’s Rest was even more spectacular than she thought. All the gold. Shit this place was probably expensive. And of course Liv had to snap some more pictures. “Well now that you’ve tempted me of course I’ll try it. And if I can’t taste it, there’s always hot sauce in my purse. “ Liv came prepared. “Sera is just from your dreams? Or she was here too? I don’t remember you ever mentioning her.” Oh, Maker, what was up with the phone being attached to Liv’s hand? Max hadn’t known her to be like that before, but he just guessed that it had to do with her rather unique diet. “Sera was never here, no,” he said with a tinge of regret as he went to find a glass and pour from the spigot on one of those barrels. How nice that the Herald’s Rest came equipped with its own form of paint thinner - dwarven ale was truly terrible, but Dorian was right when he once said that you just kept drinking and drinking and drinking, caught in the trap and fascinated by its gasoline flavor. Only a little bit for him, thank you. He was a silly human who had to make the trek down the mountain after this, and didn’t want to go stumbling. “She’s an elf, a rogue who never really felt like she fit in and was accepted anywhere. But she was all about anarchy and rebellion, even if she never knew what she was rebelling against,” he chuckled fondly. “Her and Dorian would banter back and forth, it made long trips more bearable.” Handing Liv her very first taste of dwarven ale, he couldn’t wait to see her reaction. “Well, drink up.” “Sounds like someone I’d get along with.” Being a zombie was kind of lonely. It was in the dreams even and there were other zombies around there. Here, it was just her. As far as she knew of at least. It made her feel left out at times. Especially when her friends that knew what she was had trouble accepting her. Max was one of the ones that had though. #truefriend “It’s rough sometimes,” Liv agreed. “When people from your dreams aren’t here. It’s like you miss them even if you aren’t sure they exist.” Liv was the only one from her dreamworld. Though Peyton and Major were back in Seattle. But that was a life she had left behind. “Thanks!” before drinking the ale she paused to take a photo. Once that was done, time for her first sip. “I like to think they all exist, all our dream people,” Max admitted, even if it could be considered wishful thinking on his end. “That they’re out there somewhere. Maybe they’ll find their way here and maybe they won’t. Keeping the memories close is nice - it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows but for me, they were the best part of the Inquisition.” That whole sense of family, of camaraderie, of how such a diverse group of oddballs could come together for the greater good and find that they had more in common than preconceived notions would dictate. He clinked his glass against Liv’s, then knocked back the ale - sipping it slowly would be the worst possible thing he could do for his tastebuds, so it was best to just go with down the hatch. “Andraste’s tits,” he shuddered. “That’s as awful and wonderful as I remember.” It honestly tasted like dirt, but the aftertaste was like elderflower with maybe a dash of cinnamon - so strange. Well she certainly liked Max’s thinking. Although she wasn’t sure she would want anyone from her dreams here. At least not Major. The idea of him becoming a zombie and then cured but might turn into a zombie again? That was the last thing she wanted for him. Ravi. Yes. It’d be perfect if Ravi existed and ended up here. At least she knew he wasn’t a zombie and she didn’t think he’d be turning into one either. “That Inquisition. Did you end up winning it?” Because well she was curious and it was better than thinking about her zombie dreams. Liv almost spit out her sip of the concoction. It tasted horrible. Maybe it did need some hot sauce. But then she saw Max down the whole thing and heard his comment. Well, might as well try it his way. She quickly gulped down the rest of the drink. Still tasted pretty nasty, however the aftertaste wasn’t so bad. It was actually delightful. “What the hell?” Liv muttered a bit confused by the whole thing. “Who came up with this drink?” “Dwarves,” Max responded, as if that explained it all. In a way, it sort of did. Maker, that stuff though - it was black, the color of that ‘beverage,’ and Trevelyan didn’t even want to know what was in it to make it that color. The stuff was potent though, and he just thought of all the various stories about drinking a thimble-full and then ending up in a whole other town, awake a week later, without your pants or shoes on. “I once heard they came up with it as a joke, to get surface-dwellers to drink it? But that may just be a rumor.” Anyway. If he drank any more he’d pass out, so best they move on to other parts of Skyhold. “We did win the Inquisition,” he said - and since Liv wanted to see the throne room last, he’d cut through the courtyard and show her the garden before that. “Or, well, we defeated the enemy and closed the tear in the Veil - but the political problems in Thedas still plague us, fixing the hole in the sky didn’t change that. We also have a whole new crises on the horizon.” He smiled crookedly, sarcastic and humored. “My days of an adventurer are not over yet.” “Sometimes I feel like there will always be another adventure.” Dreamwise. As in they would never end. Although Liv’s dreams weren’t exactly adventures. But still. However she was quickly distracted by the flowers in the garden. Phone out for more pictures. “But hey, at least you have this awesome place.” Best dream gift ever if you asked Liv. So many great photo opportunities. But they were missing something. Oh right. Max! “Get over here,” she ushered to Max. “I want a selfie at Skyhold!” No, that was probably true. Living here was an adventure unto itself - never would Max have thought life would end up how it did, and things were still changing. “Okay, okay,” he laughed, glad that Liv liked that herb garden in the courtyard enough to take photos of it - some of the flowers really were nice, and not much was of this world. So it’d be interesting to view the photos, at least. In the throne room, he let Liv sit in the hot seat - both of them could probably fit on there (she was on the smaller side) but instead he just leaned against the armrest so he’d be in her silly selfie. Maker. “How’s that?” he wanted to know, making a duckface. Cheeks sucked in too? Definitely pure modelface - maybe Dorian would be so proud. “You are so much better at selifes than I was expecting,” Liv said snapping away with her phone. Because really who knew? Although it wasn’t exactly like Liv was the selfie queen herself… most days. “I can’t wait to post these!” |