((Per 2 + Awareness (being watched) 3 + stress die 5 = 10.))
With Stultus's gaze as a clue, Tranquillina does catch a reasonable glimpse of a beast on the rooftops. With the hundreds of magi and their retinues about, she doesn't give much thought to it.
Several minutes later, the two find themselves sitting on an ornate stone bench in a verdant park nestled among several of the residence villas (Oleron, perhaps, is staying in that one there? she isn't sure). True to her word, they have been brought a carafe of mead and some steaming bread with herb butter. Tranquillina can't remember whether the trees are real trees, magically transported here and grown quickly, or simply illusions cast for the meeting, and she is too tired to bother checking. She alternates for a time between taking deep sips from her flagon and rubbing the heel of her hand against her eyes.
"What is your ... whence stems your desire to join the covenant of Mons Electi, specifically?" Tranquillina is now speaking Latin again; Stultus gets the impression that she can more easily suppress her emotions in that tongue than in Gaelic. "What do you know about our covenant, about the others who reside with me?"
Stultus takes small sips of his mead, watching Tranquillina. With his body weight, it doesn't take much to get him plastered. At one point, a brown-furred arm holding a cup emerges from behind him, poking him in the side, and he empties a third of his flagon into it without looking, handing a couple of pieces of bread to the familiar as well.
"There were surprisingly few covenants to choose from, actually." He ticks them off on his fingers. "Fudarus is unlivable -- the two Primi turned it into a war zone. Montverte is a snakepit. Eboris is a convenient fiction. Exspectatio is just as much a snakepit as Montverte, with the added bonus of having to bend over and grab your ankles for Fudarus." He continues in this vein, giving witty, sarcastic and unflattering (but on the whole accurate) thumbnail descriptions of the major Normandy covenants. "You get the idea. Besides, the Redcaps mentioned a number of you as being highly skilled Corpus magi, which is a major benefit."
Stultus draws himself up to his full three-feet-mumble-inches height, and sweeps a hand down the length of his body with a flourish. (Think a game-show bimbo miming the virtues of This Incredible Refrigerator to a voice-over.) "This body of mine has a number of advantages: great beauty, well-arranged facial features, and a truly incredible sexual stamina. Unfortunately, an easy to craft Longevity Ritual is not among them."
He smiles at the question of who he knows in Mons Electi. "Well, there's you. Obviously. There's Alexei, whom I've had occasion to do a good turn for some years ago. Unfortunately, his ego came out second-best in that encounter, so he may remember me with mixed feelings. Marcus was described to me, as was Fiona Ex Miscellanea... indeed, a few Redcaps waxed positively rhapsodic about her charms. About the rest of you, I know little beyond names and Houses."
Tranquillina seems to be taking her mead medicinally, and indeed her bearing becomes more relaxed, her motions a bit more energetic as the cup empties. But she certainly has no plans to become drunk in public during her covenant's Tribunal.
Even though she is less responsive to the humorous descriptions than one might have expected for a resident of the Normandy Tribunal, Tranquillina does listen keenly to Stultus's summary, interested in the implied familiarity with regional Hermetic politics.
"I suppose I really needed to ask a different question. Why Normandy at all? Were you a resident here - what was your most recent covenant, I mean?"
"I suppose I can be considered one of those Corpus specialists," she allows, swishing her remaining mead around in her cup and regarding it carelessly. "But you would want to speak with Korvin about Longevity Rituals - that is what he studies above all else. As for me, I am not, ach, particularly suited for crafting them." She doesn't elaborate.
"Oh, I've been all over the place: mostly here in Normandy, with occasional forays into Rhine and Stonehenge for one reason or another. Latest covenant was Eboris, actually. Convenient fiction or not, it had a roof over my head and a lab space I could use. I didn't need much else."
Stultus listens to Tranquillina's comment about Korvin, nodding as he takes mental note of the name. "Thank you. There are a few questions I had about Mons Electi, but..." He glances around at the magi walking by. "... this may not be the best forum for that discussion. And besides, you look -- if you'll pardon the observation -- like you've had a long day. So I'll get out of your hair and let you rest, and we will pick up the discussion another day."
Assuming Tranquillina concurs, he'll say his goodbyes, hop off the bench, and call his familiar to his side as he starts to walk off... only to stop and turn around mid-stride, as if struck by a sudden thought.
"By the way... To answer your earlier question, about the 'lies' Cumhachd 'poisoned my mind' with..." The quotes are obvious in the way his voice emphasizes the words. "The chief one was that you were the best, most brilliant and most strongly gifted apprentice she'd ever had, hands down. Good day, sodalis." With that Parthian shot, he grins, doffs his hat to Tranquillina and saunters off unhurriedly.
(( Gerg -- thought this would be a good place to close the scene, since we were running out of topics to talk about in public. If I was mistaken in that assertion, feel free to continue, otherwise we'll need to come up with another thread/place/time... still not sure how that works here. ))
Tranquillina is indeed tired, at least as tired as she has been for the last three months of labwork and preparation, perhaps a bit more. She mumbles a polite goodbye, then is startled by Stultus's coda. She sits on the bench for a long while, as Mons Electi servants work their way around the nearby streets, lighting lamps that seem better at dimming the starscape than actually providing illumination for visitors. Her mind is still affected by the Two-Faced Diplomat spell: in addition to her own insecurities about Cumhachd's judgment of her, and the fear that Stultus's last words were suspiciously more than a mere afterthought, she is simultaneously understanding that Stultus has little reason to lie or risk angering her given the boon he is seeking. Part of her wishes she had more mead, but she knows that would be a bad idea.
After a long period of pensive silence, she leaves her flagon on the ground and lies on her back on the park bench, one hand probing in the pouch she wears for a particular wood splinter. For a moment she tries, in vain, to identify a constellation above her. Then she inhales deeply, picturing the layout of her sanctum in her mind, and then silently performs the Leap of Homecoming without moving, arriving comfortably in her bed. ((Automatically cast in this aura, even silently. Finesse roll to land in bed: Int 3 + Finesse (spells that move things) 3 + stress die 6 = 12.)) By the time she decides how much she would wager on being awake half the night with her swirling thoughts, she is already asleep.
The next morning ((the final day of Tribunal activities? or perhaps just wrap-up day?)), Tranquillina sends a brief letter to Mathieus, thanking him again for his company at dinner a few nighs prior, and asking him his opinion about Stultus Maximus ex Tytalus. She writes that she is considering "entering into a contract" with the magus, and is interested in Mathieus's evaluation of both his Hermetic prowess and his strength of character.
Tranquillina also sends notes to both Rose and Stultus, inviting them to linger at Mons Electi if they are able, with the aim to have dinner with the entire council two nights after the Tribunal has concluded. She, too, would like to speak more with Stultus in private, just as she engineered when Rose approached her with the request for membership.
The letter to Mathieus should be written. After Valerian kills Praxiteles, there's no reason for him to hang around. A bit of research will show that this is the first Tribunal that he Mathieus had attended since Eboris's founding. He leaves the day that Praxiteles is killed.
((And I'm not sure of the nexus of Mathieus and Stultus... I need to do a more careful review of back story before saying anything.))
((Ah, okay, if Mathieus already left the Tribunal, then there's no way that Tranquillina will get a response in the next few days. So she'll still write the letter - it just becomes less urgent. And for the same reason, we can continue the story before those letters are written. I'll post it in the Letters thread in the near future.))
Posting here just because I'm not sure where else it would go.
Stultus is going to spend his time at the Tournament (both before and after meeting Tranquillina) wandering around and gathering information: both doing the "I'm just a jongleur, part of the entertainment" shtick and listening to the conversations around him, and striking up conversations with magi he knows.
What he is trying to find out is twofold: what is the current political climate in the Tribunal in general, and any and all information relating to Mons Electi political doings in specific.
Per 1 + Awareness 3 + roll of 3=7.
Com 2 + Guile 3 + roll of 9=14.
Int 3 + Intrigue 6 + plotting specialty + roll of 5=15.
Then this would be an excellent opportunity for you to meet the deadliest magus of the covenant...
[color=red]My name is Roberto Rodruigez. How may I help you?
((Oooh! Another vic.... er, I mean, someone to RP with. ))
Stultus brightens at being addressed. It doesn't take him long to figure out that he is speaking to one of the members of Mons Electi, since he got the current membership roster before ever showing up. "Sodalis! I am Stultus Maximus, of the House of Tytalus. Thank you for your kind offer. I am not so sure that I am in need of help..."
Rahere, sotto voce, in Arabic: "Yes you are. Lots of help."
Stultus, likewise sotto voce, same language: "Shut it." He then switches back to Latin, continuing the conversation with Rodrigo. "Anyway, as I was saying, I am not precisely in need of help. But let me take the opportunity to commend you on the setting for the Tournament. Your Covenant really went all-out to make this event a success... spared no expense, it looks like. The facilities, the decor, the entertainment -- everything is top-notch."
((One failed Personality trait roll later... ))
He pauses, as if struck by a sudden thought. "Actually, yes! Come to think of it, there is something you can assist me with." He looks around somewhat furtively, and motions Rodrigo to bend down to his level, indicating that he wishes to whisper something to the Flambeau.
Stultus affects a look of injured innocence. "I'm sorry, Sodalis, you're obviously not sufficiently acquainted with my House. There are plenty of other types of Tytali. Hazards, scourges, snakes-in-the-grass, troublemakers, backstabbers... there are even perfectly innocent, nice Tytali. I can think of three off the top of my head. Well, two. Okay, one for certain."
He pretends to be deep in thought. "As for myself, I believe the proper classification is 'pest'. But what about you, Sodalis? What type of Flambeau are you, psychotic pugnacious pyromaniac or metal-clad musclebound moron?"
It is a test of character. Real men bust each other's balls all the time and know how to play this game.
And I will grant a bonus point if you can correctly identify the "threat or menace" reference
Roberto grins with a wide smile.
[color=red]I do enjoy a good fire
(( It rings fuzzy bells. I seem to remember a character in a movie saying it. Big guy in an ill-fitting suit standing there with one hand grandiosely outthrust and declaring "Blahblahblah: Threat? Or Menace?" Can't remember for the life of me which movie it was, though. ))
"Outstanding!" declares Stultus in a tone of admiration. "A fiery personality! A fan -- and fanner -- of flames! A... wait a moment, wait a moment... I got it!" He stares up at Rodrigo with a "Eureka" expression on his face, and declaims in a tone of wonderment "A Flaming Flambeau!"
He leans forward slightly, batting his eyelashes at Rodrigo -- a truly ludicrous sight. "Well. Never would have expected that from one of your House... thweetie."
(( Hey, if you can use pop culture references, modern slang is fair game. ))
[color=red]It seems you are more buffonish than I feared. No matter. Rumor has it that you have been doing much inquiring concerning Mons Electi. I care not what your purpose may be, but I am curious as to what you have learned.
(( Um. You're talking to a dwarf wearing jester's motley. Can't get much more buffoonish than that. ))
Stultus quirks his head to one side, birdlike, and considers Rodrigo, still grinning. "I've learned quite a bit, and I am perfectly willing to satisfy your curiosity. However, nothing in life is free, Sodalis. Tell you what. I'll trade you. Fact for fact, rumor for rumor, wild tale for wild tale. Deal?"
[color=red]Tytalus magi discern not the difference between fact and rumor, all is a wild tale from their toungues and in their ears. But if one listens closely, one may divine tidbits of truth in even the most fantastic of stories.
So tell me, payaso, what is your interest in Mons Electi?
If I was mistaken in that assertion, feel free to continue, otherwise we'll need to come up with another thread/place/time... still not sure how that works here. 
