#he knows the meaning of the word subtlety but doesn't like applying it to himself

[corvidaerook]

WIP Wednesday We're Not Gonna Talk About It Day

Thank you to @thedissonantverses for the @!! I'm pretty sure most of my other mutuals already did it, plus I'm way late for it to actually count for anybody's actual WIP Wednesday, but if anyone sees this and wants to do theirs too, please consider this a tag!

My actual current WIP is part of a DA fan event and is secret, but this is something I started writing the other night as a post-game, "my Rook goes back to the Crows and falls into his old habits" thing. (Partly inspired by Varric saying not to try to beat Rook at cards.)

He scooped the cards up, sliding them into a neat little pile in his hand. In one smooth move, he flipped them over, set them on the table, and curled his arm around the stack of gold pieces, jewelry, and everything else of value that the men had had on them. Lucanis was too far away to hear what he said, but that didn’t prevent him from reading Cassian’s lips as they lifted at the corner; House Cantori appreciates your business, gentlemen. And it certainly didn’t stop him from seeing the table flip half a second later, nor one of the men lunging to grab Cassian by the collar with a beefy hand.

It was only familiarity with the Diamond that kept Lucanis from shooting out of his seat with a knife drawn. He already knew that, if Cassian were truly in any danger, there would be guards on the table in a heartbeat. Especially with the lady of the house present and watching with sharp eyes. Of course, it also helped that he was familiar with Cassian himself. He knew that the look of surprise on Cassian’s face was almost as calculated as the outcome of the card game, and that the moment he escaped to the Diamond’s back room, it would split into the same confident grin Lucanis had become so used to. Even Spite accepted it as enough of a reassurance that he stayed settled in Lucanis' mind. Angry shouts echoed across the floor as Lucanis reached for his coffee instead. Heads all throughout the room snapped towards the table, a few other patrons standing to see the commotion better, and Viago dropped his head with a long sigh. "You knew that this would be the outcome, Viago, dear," Teia said with a chuckle that told Lucanis she had more than expected it. Lucanis, however, couldn't say the same. In the many times that he had visited the Casino, either having been dragged by Illario or intending to meet Teia and Viago, he couldn't say that he had ever seen something quite so dramatic. A few spats, yes, but never flipped tables, much less physical altercations. Not even when Illario had unknowingly been kissed by a woman two feet from her husband—that had been resolved before Lucanis had even been forced to use the knife he'd palmed in reluctant anticipation. Though, before meeting Cassian, he had never seen someone talk back to Caterina, either. Or face down a giant Antaam without blinking, or punch the First Warden, or an Elven God. It seemed as if he had not only managed to find a walking, talking catalyst of the unexpected, but had fallen hopelessly in love with him for good measure. Instead of voicing that in front of Teia—who would laugh—and Viago—who's veins might just finally burst—Lucanis swirled the Cantoris' lackluster coffee and asked, "is this something that happens often?" “When Cassian is involved…yes.” Viago pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not enough to pickpocket the man. No, he must draw as much attention as possible to himself first, specifically to give me an aneurysm.”