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Library, Sunday

Having recovered from the oh-so-strenuous welcome picnic, Face was hard at work behind the library desk.

If by hard at work you meant looking over his class schedule between watching some of the new holos that he'd 'acquired' through the holonet.

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Oh, that was a good expression, Face would have to remember to try mimicking it in the mirror later, he suspected trying it now would not be appreciated.

"In which case, no, there are no mages of ill-intent here." He was pretty sure that Constantine before his morning caf didn't count. "Especially not blood mages. Whatever they are."

"They are mages who use blood sacrifices to weave their spells," Cassandra said promptly, because that had clearly been a request for further explanation. "You have never heard of them?"

Face shook his head.

"Never heard of anything like that," he said, then paused. "Well, except that one holo I did which made up some really surreal things about the Jedi."

Even for Imperial propaganda, that one had been strange.

"...Jedi?" Cassandra said, after a pause. "Explain."

She should go find these books he spoke of, but truthfully, she knew little of this place and it bothered her.

"You know, Jedi," Face said with a shrug, before squaring his shoulders and declaiming in his most clipped and polished Coruscanti accent. "Guardians of peace throughout the Republic for a thousand generations. Mighty warriors, capable of amazing feats by tapping into he power of the Force."

He lapsed back into his usual, softer accent. "At least until the Empire rose and the Jedi suddenly became a lot less popular, Professor Skywalker could probably explain better about the Jedi than I could."

Face, no, pointing her in that direction can't end well.

It would probably be best for the sake of the school - or at least two or more of the doors and/or walls in the offices section - if Cassandra was not allowed to try to interrogate Anakin Skywalker, yes.

"There is no need at the moment," she said, thankfully. "I was merely curious. Your Jedi sound a great deal like mages, though I confess I have trouble picturing ours as guardians of the peace."

Possibly because the first picture mages tended to call to mind was the sight of her brother being beheaded, but y'know.

Edited 2015-01-04 16:32 (UTC)

That would make things awkward, yes.

"Well, in the end I don't know that much about magic or Force powers," he said. Yet, that could always change. "I'm just a former kid actor who wants to fly snubfighters." Who also hadn't yet realised his potential to be a terrifyingly good intelligence operative.

"You're an actor?" Cassandra said.

Partly because the snubfighters thing didn't make any sense, and partly that meant she could stand here deciding whether or not she should radiate disapproval... ...more than she usually did.

"Not so much since I got this." Face tapped his scar, and since he'd found out the kind of people his holos had been supporting. "But, yeah, ever since I was a kid. Pretty famous too."

He'd had a definite article in his nickname, they didn't just hand those out.

The Iron Bull would argue that point, actually. (He was very fond of his definite article. Not that Cassandra knew him yet, so we digress.)

"But you have given up that life to pursue a more useful occupation," Cassandra said, nodding to herself. That, she could parse. "I see."

"Acting is useful," Face protested. He was Lorrdian, it was a point of cultural pride. "It's just not for me any more, not professionally."

At least until he got to help save the galaxy by playing pirate.

Cassandra let go of a disgusted snort. "I see no honor in pretending to be something other than we are," she said. "You are better off this way."

Thank you, Cass, this was why he'd come to you for career advice.

Except, y'know, he hadn't.

"Just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it's not there."

Which was a very nice way of saying she was wrong.

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "You debate this?"

Unlike what some mages might tell you, she was a Seeker of Truth, not a Templar, and hardly a jackboot without reason.

Face mirrored Cassandra's expression perfectly. "Yeah, I do."

"Quite apart from the fact my people would've been silent slaves for the past four thousand years if we hadn't gotten really good at pretending, acting, all the performing arts, are important," Face said. "They tell stories, they take people's minds off their troubles, they inspire." For better or worse, when what they inspired was a rise in military recruitment. "When what is sucks, being reminded of what could be can keep people going until they can change things."

That and they were just plain fun, though Face wasn't sure Cassandra understood the concept, or how valuable that was.

Cassandra parsed his answer thoughtfully. "I... did not think of it that way," she said. Clearly. "I suppose morale and inspiration does have some honor. They are not fields of which I know much."

Face would never have guessed.

Instead of saying as much, he put on his most endearing expression instead. "Well, if you'd like to know more, we also have an extensive fiction section."

Maker, that was endearing. Enough to make her flush just a little bit.

She turned her attention to adjusting her glove. "No, I should return to studying the magic books," she said. "...Though knowing where this fiction is might help expedite my search."

Not one bit.

Face knew exactly how endearing it was, even more so when he added puppy eyes, which he now did.

"They're kept over there," he said, nodding in the relevant direction. "Oh, I'm Face, by the way."

Because introducing yourself at some point was generally a good idea.

If she wound up leaving here with a Young Adult romance novel tucked between the magic books, it would be all your fault, Face.

She gave him a curt nod. "I am Cassandra Pentaghast," she said. "Thank you for your assistance."

This might have been the most polite she'd been all weekend.

Face would take his victories where he could find them. "The pleasure was mine."

Cassandra nodded one more time, and then strode past him, vanishing into the stacks of books.

She came back one last time, some time later, wielding a stack of magical tomes in one hand and a single volume of something else in the other.

She slapped the YA book - something about knights and princesses - down on the desk first. "You will tell no one."

Face didn't actually have a death wish regardless of any impressions otherwise he might give now and in the future.

Also he didn't know the author and couldn't engage in approval related personal quests. "My lips are sealed," he said, one hand over his heart.

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Library, Sunday

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