Anders (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
birdhousesoul) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2012-05-08 10:44 am
birdhousesoul) wrote in exsiliumlogs2012-05-08 10:44 am
mage meeting open to all mages and mage allies
Date & Time PIE DAY. Um, fuzzy timing - post-mission, post-spamming of everyone by Martin Septim, pre-United Earth Boat Trip, pre-leadership meeting
Location: Magehouse aka Unit 205
Characters: Anyone who didn't block Martin Septim'sspam private message; anyone who considers herself a mage; anyone who likes pie
Summary: Time to get this MAGE COLLECTIVE startedso it can exist ICly before the upcoming plot kicks off
Warnings: Anders is a loudmouth, look out blood mages
INITIATIVE DOSSIER: TRANSPORT HOUSING UNIT 205 aka 'magehouse'
Unit 205 is the haunt of mages and cats. Its human residents are Martin Septim (a mage), Anders (a very loud mage), Nathaniel Howe (a Grey Warden who doesn't mind mages in certain contexts), and sometimes, unofficially, a woman named Delphine (a stalker grandma who hides under Martin Septim's bed).
Its feline residents are a large tabby of Thedosian origin, male, intact, named "Ser Pounce-a-lot" (possibly also a mage), and a grey kitten (native to Exsilium) recently rescued by Martin Septim.
Like all standard transport housing units, Unit 205 contains three bedrooms. The Thedosian residents share a room, Martin Septim has a room to himself (Delphine, officially domiciled elsewhere, does not always succeed in secreting herself within the emperor's quarters, and is usually commanded to leave when he discovers her presence), and the third bedroom has been converted into a headquarters for seditious activities and scrapbooking. Cat beds also reside in this room.
A long time ago (okay, seven or eight years), in Amaranthine, the fugitive mage known as Anders declared that the smell of freshly-baked pie was, for all intents and purposes, the smell of freedom.
Sadly, he's not much of a baker. The pies on offer at tonight's possibly-a-mage-collective meeting are not fresh, but shelf-stable and store-bought. There are, however, a lot of them. There is also lemonade, mixed from concentrate. Convenience foods are strange to the people of Thedas, strange in a good way: readily available! full of preservatives! preservatives are good!
Anders isn't sure how many people will actually come to this meeting. The word has been spread informally, and as discreetly as is possible given that he's sure the network is monitored by the Initiative. He doesn't have an agenda written up; it wouldn't occur to him to do so, being from a world where xerox machines are unknown and laser printers are right out. He has, however, appropriated a flip chart and some markers from the Initiative Hold, and set them up in a corner.
Every piece of furniture usable for sitting — desk chairs, kitchen chairs, cushions — has been dragged into the living room, and the dining room table has been pushed up against a wall to create an impromptu pie-and-lemonade buffet.
This is a far cry from gathering in the sewers of Darktown. No one wants to eat pie in a sewer.
Where Anders comes from, mages aren't always open about their identity, thanks to systemic religious persecution. He won't be surprised by anyone who shows up, and he won't turn anyone away. Even if they're just here to eat pie.
[No posting order, everything'stotally pretty much freeform (I tried to give it some structure but don't feel constrained); anyone should feel free to threadjack into any conversation unless someone marks in the subject line of the comment that you shouldn't for some reason, like "Anders and Martin are arguing in whispers about blood mages, don't interrupt" or something]
Location: Magehouse aka Unit 205
Characters: Anyone who didn't block Martin Septim's
Summary: Time to get this MAGE COLLECTIVE started
Warnings: Anders is a loudmouth, look out blood mages
INITIATIVE DOSSIER: TRANSPORT HOUSING UNIT 205 aka 'magehouse'
Unit 205 is the haunt of mages and cats. Its human residents are Martin Septim (a mage), Anders (a very loud mage), Nathaniel Howe (a Grey Warden who doesn't mind mages in certain contexts), and sometimes, unofficially, a woman named Delphine (a stalker grandma who hides under Martin Septim's bed).
Its feline residents are a large tabby of Thedosian origin, male, intact, named "Ser Pounce-a-lot" (possibly also a mage), and a grey kitten (native to Exsilium) recently rescued by Martin Septim.
Like all standard transport housing units, Unit 205 contains three bedrooms. The Thedosian residents share a room, Martin Septim has a room to himself (Delphine, officially domiciled elsewhere, does not always succeed in secreting herself within the emperor's quarters, and is usually commanded to leave when he discovers her presence), and the third bedroom has been converted into a headquarters for seditious activities and scrapbooking. Cat beds also reside in this room.
A long time ago (okay, seven or eight years), in Amaranthine, the fugitive mage known as Anders declared that the smell of freshly-baked pie was, for all intents and purposes, the smell of freedom.
Sadly, he's not much of a baker. The pies on offer at tonight's possibly-a-mage-collective meeting are not fresh, but shelf-stable and store-bought. There are, however, a lot of them. There is also lemonade, mixed from concentrate. Convenience foods are strange to the people of Thedas, strange in a good way: readily available! full of preservatives! preservatives are good!
Anders isn't sure how many people will actually come to this meeting. The word has been spread informally, and as discreetly as is possible given that he's sure the network is monitored by the Initiative. He doesn't have an agenda written up; it wouldn't occur to him to do so, being from a world where xerox machines are unknown and laser printers are right out. He has, however, appropriated a flip chart and some markers from the Initiative Hold, and set them up in a corner.
Every piece of furniture usable for sitting — desk chairs, kitchen chairs, cushions — has been dragged into the living room, and the dining room table has been pushed up against a wall to create an impromptu pie-and-lemonade buffet.
This is a far cry from gathering in the sewers of Darktown. No one wants to eat pie in a sewer.
Where Anders comes from, mages aren't always open about their identity, thanks to systemic religious persecution. He won't be surprised by anyone who shows up, and he won't turn anyone away. Even if they're just here to eat pie.
[No posting order, everything's
no subject
"The one in the middle! I can't reach it, though. Well maybe I could but I would have to stand on a chair and people have to sit on those." Nik pauses for breath, but he's not quite done yet. "Though I don't know what kind it is." It didn't matter, right? It was probably going to be tasty anyway.
He eyed Nathaniel's plate curiously. "What kind did you get, mister?"
no subject
"The one in the middle there is pecan, I think."
no subject
He's brought his own plate with him, and he holds it up to Nathaniel hopefully. And keeps babbling: "We don't have pie where I come from! Because, because to make pie, I think you need an oven, and we don't have ovens." He frowns. "Also it is hard to find ingredients for pie."
no subject
"You can actually bake pies over a fire," he says conversationally as he cuts a large slice of the pecan pie and slides it onto the boy's plate. "The crust actually serves as an oven and bakes the ingredients inside." He hands the plate to Nik. "There you go."
no subject
"Oh! That would probably work. Um... do you hold the pie over the fire or do you put it on top of the fire?" Nik frowns. Neither option seems viable to him. He chews thoughtfully before sneaking in one last question. "Did you make these pies, mister?"
no subject
He takes a small bite. "And no, I didn't make the pies. My friend Anders bought them, I think."
no subject
Nik doesn't answer until he's finished off his slice. For something so little, he eats very quickly. And a lot.
"Ohh." Nik nods. "Then if you see Mister Anders, you can tell him I said thank you! The pies are very good. My name is Nik, by the way." Nik looks around for a place to set his plate down, sees none, so he holds it one hand and sticks out the other towards Nathaniel for a handshake. "Pleased to meet you."