OTA | don't hurt me no more

[matchymatchy]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: yo
RECIPIENT: yall
WHAT: match game set
WHEN: now-ish
WHERE: kirkwall
NOTES: n/a

Inquisition,

I understand there has been a temporary disruption in your administration, [ a light clap ] No matter! We'll muddle through it together.

Ottoline Gardet-Lorier — you may call me Otto — of Tantervale, and it's a pleasure to meet all of you by more than reputation. I'll be summering in Kirkwall this year and lending you my services, that we might find the diplomat inside each of us.

[ ayyy ]

Let's begin! Tell me: What is love?

On a related topic, I must speak immediately with those Rifter elves present.

Comments

[matchymatchy]

Are there not sonnets written of the fog over war, the haze between questions, the clouds that part to peace? To elude definition is not to shake pursuit, Serah.

[degenere]

And yet would we not be better served to leave such matters to the poets? The elusive definition is best left in capable hands, and on capable tongues.

For it is true, that the very nature of diplomacy requires a certain poetic soul, a certain deftness of speech, a certain nuanced understanding of the heart, and the soul, and how these work upon the mind of a man. But there is a necessary ruthlessness to the work of a diplomat that is, at turns, like the deadly broad edge of a broadsword, or the precise and murderous tip of a duelist's rapier.

And then of course the mind of the Inqusition, at large, might best be compared to the blunt blade of a winnowing fork.