Isolde_icon.gif Garou_icon.gifAnton_icon.gif

Scene Title Wolves At The Door
Synopsis Anton continues making wonderful impressions
Location Templar Corridor
Date August 2, 2016
Watch For How to lose friends and alienate people
Logger Anton

Morning. Early morning, at that. That hour where the sun is technically up but no one in the right mind should be. Even the roosters aren't sure how they're feeling about this one. But the door to the Knight Captain's rooms is open. Isolde had opted to change the first of her two rooms into something of an office, and retain the smaller, interior chamber as her sleeping quarters. The office is a warm affair, with drapes of red velvet and rugs put to use without shame. It seems the woman was exacting in her furniture choices, nothing that was not precisely what she wanted was permitted to stay. The desk is oaken and heavy, all of the chairs well cushioned and good for sitting. Even the small lounge and side table by the window, the newest additions to the room, are well made and comfortable. If she's going to spend time here, it seems she is of a mind to make it pleasant. The Captain sitsher desk going over paperwork. Her golden hair is pulled over her shoulder in a braid, and she is dressed in simple, red linen, not yet in a place in her day where shes willing to put on her armor.

Anton isn't voluntarily awake. He's never voluntarily awake as long as it's morning. At least he's not hungover this time, but only because he fell into his bed early enough for his liver to deal with the damage- and even that was confined to his own time. It's way too early for armor and way too early for people, but here he is. Returned from his morning 'get the mages comfortable with the new guy' walk, going past the office, and stopping at the door. "Well hello…" He draws the word out to pull out the information he need. "Captain, right? Nice office." It's too early for formality, too.

It's the time of day Garou is usually up and in the training yards, putting himself through a series of drills to both keep his skills sharp and to warm up his body for the day ahead. But last night had not involved nearly so much sleep as it should have. Not for any malicious or salacious reasons - he'd been quite comfortable - but simply because a mind bouyed with thought is often hard to drag down into sleep. So by this point he's already finished with his training and the washing up after. He's even at the point of putting his shirt back on so that he is at least fresh-faced and presentable when he knocks politely on his captain's open door - if not entirely bright-eyed or bushy-tailed. "I've last week's assessments for the new recruits written up if you - " Oh good. Here's just the person he most wanted to see this morning, right here with him. "Corporal." It isn't much of a hello, but it is civil.

Isolde looks up from her papers with a blink, canting her head slightly at the man she does not recognize. "Yes, I am Knight Captain Wulff. And you-" Which is when there is a knock, and her blue gaze shifts to the sound. There's a smile then, small and polite, but pleasant nevertheless. "Good morning, Lieutenant, please, bring them in. Tea?" Because of course she has tea. Let's everyone be shocked at once now. However, when Garou addresses the other Templar, it seems the pieces fall into place. "Ahhh… You must be Beaulac." She says, waving Anton in.

Anton gives a bright grin to Garou. "Lieutenant," he greets with far too much cheerfulness before stepping into the office to offer a- don't faint- brief bow. "I'm a little behind on meeting everyone. Figured I'd let the mages get comfortable with me out of the armor before I spend too much time walking through there in it." He may or may not have just made a naked joke, but at least he's explained himself.

Isolde's polite smile is returned - one did not simply forget a courtly upbringing after all - but the invitation is (equally as politely) declined. "Ah, mais no. Thank you, but I have - " And that's when he catches Anton's statement, at which point there is a tiny muscle beneath his eye that twitches. "Walking around in plainclothes is not going to make them trust you any better. A shorn wolf still has fangs." His voice is that very level tone that says his patience for this knight in particular is… painfully thin. And yet… "Thank you, ma'am. Tea sounds lovely."

Isolde raises a brow, looking between the two men. "The Lieutenant has a point. If you would like their trust, I can have you assigned appropriately. Assuming you desire their trust for its virtue alone." She says, rising then from her desk and moving to pour of tea to match her own that still sits upon her desk. "Lemon? Sugar? Whiskey?" She asks, as though all three options are equally as reasonable. "And the assessments may live on my desk, Lieutenant."

Anton puts a hand on his chest. "Lieutenant, I'm hurt. I've been talking to some of them. Loaned some books to a young man named Niall. You'd be surprised how unwolfish you look when you treat them like people." There may be a LITTLE exasperation in that tone but not enough for it to be overt and all for Garou. "That would help. It's easier to defend a mage when they don't think you're just as likely to run them through when you draw your sword." Now, he's not directly going to pull a face at Garou, but indirectly? That polite raise of eyebrows? He may as well be.

There might actually be stars in Garou's eyes for a moment. "All three, please." It's a level-three kind of morning. Anton's continued baiting certainly winds the tension in his body tighter, but though that twitch is back a time or three, he manages to keep his voice down to a civilized volume, if not entirely a civilized tone. "You would be surprised how many wolves they've seen that look like sheep." There's even a hint of rumble around the edges of some of these words. "No amount of playing nice is going to change the fact that we are all a potential threat to the mages in our care. You need to recognize and respect that fact before you do anything else. If you knew - " But he cuts himself off there and exhales slowly, setting the paperwork on Isolde's desk. "They met standards, though I did note a few problem areas. And you'll want to keep a close eye on Recruit Armani. She has some… interesting ideas about the role of a Templar."

All three it is then, poured neatly into the cup. Honestly, the tea might be for color with how she pours, as well, though its all done with the poise who spent much of her young life pouring tea quite like this. She turns then, holding her silence as the two men speak. Crossing from behind her desk, offering the tea cup to Garou with a light hand. She doesn't walk like a Knight Captain. She walks like a noblewoman, as though she has never worn armor a day in her life. As though those hands that just passed over tea like this is a dinner party did not bear the callouses of a swordswoman. It's an interesting dichotomy. "Noted, Lieutenant. I will keep a mind for her." She says, and then looks between the two again. "I see now why Meredith assigned the both of you to me." She says, voice gentle and almost maternal, despite her young age. "Corporal, your desires are well intentioned, I believe. But perhaps the better method is but gentleness and time. Trust is earned, and the truest of it comes from patience. And Lieutenant, be at peace. Example, perhaps, not harshness. Hm?"

"In the Lieutenant's defense, my record does kind of give the impression that I need to be beaten around the head and neck." Anton gives another grin in Garou's direction. "Eh, I don't expect them to ask me over to debate the nature of magic anytime soon. I'd settle for 'he probably isn't going to do bad things to me'." See that look? He's trying really hard not to tack on an extra few words that would probably convince the lieutenant that it's time for 'punch him in the face'. "I'm just used to getting along with the mages. Val Royeaux was a challenge, Antiva not as much. Here it's like they really do expect me to be a wolf."

Look, Garou spent the last twenty-odd years of his life training and then serving at Val Royeaux. It didn't take much of a record-dive to connect this Corporal Beaulac with some of the stories. And with the Corporal mentioning the city by name, something in Garou snaps a little. It maes him laugh, but though the sound is low, it is not pleasant. "Templars in Val Royeaux cornered an elven mage in his cell and took artistic licence with the slurs of 'knife ear' and 'rabbit'. With actual knives. They expect you to be a wolf because you are a wolf. Just because you let them rub your ears doesn't mean you won't rip off their hand the moment they sneeze. Get along with the mages all you like, but if you can't respect your part in their nightmare, you will hurt someone." And he'd already made his threat plain in that regard. Taking a step back, then, Garou remembers that there is tea being offered and accepts it - and Isolde's mild censure - with an expression that manages to be remarkably sheepish for all that he was tightly-coiled fury a moment ago. "Apologies, my lady," he offers, falling back into very old habits when presented with poise and body language he learned first in a life before ever taking up a Templar's mantle. "Thank you." Because he shoots back that tea like it isn't piping hot - sharp and sweet and smoky in a way that is both soothing and refreshing.

"If I'd heard about it, I wouldn't be here for taking a few mages out to a tavern instead of the Chantry, or breaking into an empty mansion with a goat. In a dress." No goats were harmed in the making of that story. "…maybe you're right. Maybe I am a wolf. Big, dangerous teeth." Which Anton snaps together for show. "Just make sure you understand, I'm not your wolf. I'm not the Chantry's wolf. I'm theirs. It doesn't matter if they know it or not, or if they're ever comfortable with me, Lieutenant." Ok, look. Anton KNOWS he's pushing it. Which is why he's going to turn an apologetic look in Isolde's direction. "My apologies, Captain. Clearly the Lieutenant and I have differences to work out. I'll report to you for reprimand when it's more convenient." He even nods in Garou's direction. "Lieutenant."

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