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[exsecutus]

Comments

[exequy]

N—

I hope this finds you well, or finds you at all. I hope that you aren't in prison, or that if you are in prison it's temporary and not a prelude to the gallows, and I also hope that you haven't thought I was dead. I tried to write once during the war, but I learned later that the messenger didn't make it out of Orlais.

I've joined the Inquisition now. It's a long way to Antiva City, but maybe while everyone is too distracted by this new war to decide what to do about us, I can visit. Even if you are in prison, this insignia gets me places.

I've sent a letter to Mother and Father, too, so you don't have to tell them anything, but if your friend is still hanging around, tell him I didn't say hello.

—K

[exsecutus]

k -

ít's αвσut tímє.

í díd nσt trч tσ wrítє fσr fєαr α lєttєr wσuld gσ unαnswєrєd. αn unwríttєn lєttєr nєvєr gσєs unαnswєrєd. mєαns nσthíng hαs hαppєnєd.

í rєmαín frєє αnd unímprísσnєd. αpprєcíαtє чσur vσtє σf cσnfídєncє quítє dєєplч. nєck mαч вє tσσ fαt fσr α nσσsє. í вlαmє αntívαn wínє. íf чσu dσ mαkє ít tσ αntívα cítч, í dσ nσt knσw íf thєrє wíll вє αnч fσr чσu tσ drínk.

dσn't knσw whσ чσu cσuld pσssíвlч mєαn вч "mч fríєnd" αnd wíll αssumє чσu hαvє fínαllч gσnє mαd frσm mαgíc. thαt ís hσw ít wσrks, ísn't ít? α slσw crєєp. íf чσu hαd чσur wíts, чσu wσuld rєmєmвєr thαt í dσ nσt hαvє αnч fríєnds. чσu αrє thє fríєndlч σnє. tєrrífчíng, ísn't ít.

í wσuld αsk чσu hσw чσu αrє чσu fíndíng thє ínquísítíσn вut mσrє í wσuld líkє tσ knσw, hσw díd чσu fínd ít ín thє fírst plαcє? nσt líkєlч fσr чσu.

- ռ

[exequy]

N—

In the South the Inquisition is everywhere. It would be more difficult not to find it.

Also, the Grand Enchanter pledged us all as allies. I did hold out as long as I could, but this monster they're fighting seems sincere about destroying the world, and I don't have much better to do anymore. I won't try to recruit you. It's cold, and you would only have as much Antivan wine as you could carry up a mountain.

I am not mad or friendly. But I am relieved to know that you do not have friends and thus no one to get you into trouble. I don't know much about rope, but I'm confident it comes in different lengths.

—K

[exsecutus]

k -

í cσuld drínk σthєr wínєs.

вut чσu αrє ríght nσt tσ αttєmpt rєcruítmєnt. í σnlч hαvє sσ much αttєntíσn, αnd thє wσrld ís full σf mσnstєrs. ín fαct í cαn thínk σf twσ σr thrєє wíthín thís cítч. tєll чσur ínquísítíσn thαt íf thєч wíll lístєn. thєч cαn cσmє hєrє αnd clєαn hσusє. sαvє mє thє trσuвlє.

hσw dσ чσu líkє thє ínquísítíσn's mαttrєssєs? cαn't ímαgínє gσσd σnєs wєrє єαsílч cαrríєd up α mσuntαín. rєαssurє mє σr í suppσsє í wíll вє fσrcєd tσ wσrrч fσr чσu. mч lєαst fαvσrítє pαstímє.

- ռ

ACTION.

[exequy]

[ He hasn’t been avoiding Nikos, this past month. There has been wine. There have been cards. Between discarding Songs and trying to surreptitiously reacquire discarded Serpents, Kostos has commented on the weather at least once, which counts as talking.

And if that seems like its own kind of avoidance—wine, Wicked Grace, weather—well, it might be, but only as a cover for unseen and unheard but nonetheless determined readjustment to the idea of a brother as a living thing with toes and eyebrows instead of a story being written in irregular installments.

He’s nearly there. Close enough that. He asks, ]

Do Mother and Father know that you’re here?

[ It’s an important question. He’ll have to answer their letter eventually. He needs to know what to say.

It’s also cover, somewhat, for an attempt at the idle sleight-of-hand cheating that’s all but required in the game. He isn’t bad at it, for someone who learned playing against mages instead of Antivans. ]

[exsecutus]

What day is it?

[An important question answered with a casual question. Nikos, attention fixed on his hand, does not look up.

Which means he misses this particular instance of Kostos cheating. He has already called his brother out at least once this game. He will call him on it again before the game is done. He is better at cards, because he has spent more time playing cards, in Antiva, in Cumberland, in dining halls and taverns and basements and storerooms while someone else kept watch for the intended target.

But he has forgotten, somewhat, what Kostos looks like when he lies. So. There's a handicap.

Deftly, Nikos slips out a card and places it face-up on top of Kostos' last discard. Serpent of Dismay.]

There's a holiday coming up. One of the meaningless little ones they do in Antiva. I expect they'll figure it out when I don't come around. Unless Marisol has preemptively sent a flamingo with the news.

[As he picks up his cup of wine, it occurs to him to ask, flatly:]

Why.

crystal;

[champions]

Nikos, I beg you to tell me that you aren't in the Gallows and are no subject to this quarantine.

( She isn't worried. Except for how she is, but let's not point fingers. )

[exsecutus]

Very well. I am not in the Gallows, and I am not subject to this quarantine.

[ d r a w l e d ]

[champions]

( Unlike with Kostos, Marisol does allow herself the indulgence of swearing in conversation with Nikos. Only once, and in Antivan, but presumably blasphemously. )

I don't want to go back to being locked in a Circle.

( Calmly, that; she can see the sense in a quarantine, she can understand its necessity, but she does not like it. ) And I don't care to see others locked there, either.

[exsecutus]

[Nikos, in no way ill or deserving of being swept up in this quarantine, still manages to feel his health somewhat improve when he hears his cousin swearing with fevered blasphemy.]

How lucky you are that you have an estate to lock others out of instead. Now, will it settle your delicate heart to know that I'm fairly confident I can leave when I choose?

[champions]

It is lucky, Nikos. I know what people lost to the Circles, and I'm lucky I have the resources I do to try and help.

( She should not respond when he needles her, when their ideals stand in stark opposition, but sometimes control does nothing for interactions with family. )

Are you sure? From the crystals it would appear that people are falling into line to protect the common man. Isn't that your chief concern?

[exsecutus]

So long as you remember that it is luck, we will have-- [a comedic beat] --fewer quarrels. I won't lie and say none.

My chief concern is all men, and women. Common, and uncommon. But I don't see what they need protecting from, when my only sin is having lived in a damp cell for a little over a month. I'm not among the afflicted. I haven't spared more than two words to the afflicted.

And if anyone gets very angry, I'll tell them I'm Kostos.

[champions]

I am wealthy, not an imbecile. Just because the two often go hand in hand does not mean they have to.

( The comment is good natured, despite how easy it would be for it to sound petulant. )

They are worried the sickness infecting the Rifters and the Templars may be contagious. Anyone in the Gallows is being locked in as a precaution. And... in respect to that caution I suppose I will be locking myself and my staff into the estate, to make sure we don't sabotage the effort, since we have been passing in and out of the Gallows.

( A pause. ) Do you think I can tell people that I'm Kostos, as well?

[exsecutus]

I would call you many names before I called you imbecilic.

[Totally dry.]

As I am also not an imbecile, I will tell you that I do know what the Inquisition is worried about. I am neither a Templar nor a Rifter. What I am, is unhappy to be locked in isolation with people I don't like, for the sake of a precaution. If we threw the Templars and the Rifters into the bay, we would all be equally protected from contagions. A more sensible precaution in many ways.

And I think you would have to cut your hair if you were to pass for Kostos. And you would look terrible with short hair. I suggest you get your own twin rather than try to use mine.

[exequy]

I owe them a letter.

[ He lets that hang there a moment, despite there not being anything that threatening about it. Mainly he’s frowning at the card Nikos has discarded, which means that Nikos doesn’t have the sort of hand Kostos thought he had, or else is playing mind games.

When he looks up again, he narrows his eyes for a moment, like he’s on to him, although he is not on to anything. He might never have really known what Nikos looked like when he lied. ]

I might tell them you have rediscovered religion.

[exsecutus]

[Oh, says Nikos' frown, without him having to say it at all or really changing very much.

A letter.]

And have gone into holy seclusion? Novel. [He takes another sip of wine before he tips the cup forward slightly to examine its contents.] I have considered it. Seclusion. But I would have to have the wine delivered, which would put an end to the good seclusive part.

[Pointless. He takes another sip of wine.]

You could forgo the letter. It's not as if they would notice.

[champions]

I do love it when you grumble.

( It's probably a more reliable means to make sure he's alive than checking his breathing or heartbeat. Just see if he's grumbling about something, everything will be fine. )

Alas, I could not have a twin. I have far too great a need to be everyone's favourite. A twin would be too much competition.

[exsecutus]

Mm,

[says Nikos, and it comes out quite grumbly.]

Speaking from experience, you would adjust. Find some way to become superior. For example: I became the charming one.

[j o k e s]

[champions]

By Nevarran standards, perhaps; I think not even the very finest Antivan charms are enough to temper Nevarran severity. And that's not comment on your mother, either, you know she is my favourite aunt.

[exsecutus]

Though it is a comment against me. You know, "favorite" begins to lose weight when it is applied to so many.

[champions]

I just know so many wonderful people, and have a great deal of affection to grant each of them. Of course, you are my favourite favourite.

[exsecutus]

Nikos, Marisol. I am Nikos.

[champions]

Nikos, from the Antivan word for wondrous splendour.

[exsecutus]

[cousins]

Comes out closer to unrealistic expectations in Nevarran. Language is amazing.

[champions]

Isn't it?

( c: ) Antiva is a naturally more optimistic place. It's all the flamingos, very uplifting.