let's get deep

[champions]

FORM: crystal
SENDER: Marisol Candelas Ximena Odalys Esmeralda Hierro Asturias de la Nieve Vivas
RECIPIENT: Everyone
WHAT: a question
WHEN: whenev
WHERE: Kirkwall (Hightown, probably)
NOTES: don't hate her because she's beautiful

You know, I feel it has been too long since I have had a chance to speak with many of you. That is the way when we are all working so much, no? The coming and going makes it so easy to work with people and never truly know them.

( Imagine her, if you will, reclined on a fainting couch, a glass of port lightly held in one hand, a cigarillo balanced between the fingers of the other, and wearing something appropriately luxurious. )

So, I am wondering, what does responsibility mean to you? More what you consider your responsibilities, than the offerings of a dictionary. Understanding one another is key, I hear.

Comments

[champions]

Good. An hour? We can have dinner.

[wythersake]

[ that might be cutting the snooping schedule a little tight. so of course he can't admit to that. ]

Of course. You're too kind.

[ and when he shows up, an hour later, it'll be with his slightly better jacket and the faint wheeze of someone who ran part of the way there and certainly isn't about to admit to that either. ]

[champions]

Always.

( She is, undoubtedly, an angel.

Marisol is sitting in the gardens, at a marble table. Although the weather is turning cooler, she is enjoying the fresh air, and she stands when the servant leads Isaac from the gates to her. )

Isaac. Thank you so much for coming to see me.

[wythersake]

My lady. The gratitude's all mine,

[ the glance he spares the corners is less for fear of passing flamingos than lingering habit. a pleasant urban mansion isn't the war, it isn't val revin. and yet —

the gardens are irritatingly pleasant, and no one steps from the shadows to bury in a knife in him. he smiles broad and bland, brushes thank-yous to the servants, and leads with the brightly-wrapped bundle of flowers. a bouquet shed from its stems, of the sort one might intend a bath or dramatic bit of confetti.

an orlesian of the proper rank and breeding (or anyone pompous enough to bother) might read a message between the species of blooms: to new beginnings. ]

You've settled well. An investment?

[ why else anyone would buy an enormous house in kirkwall, she can't want to stay ]

[champions]

One my father has owned some time. It needed to be renovated when first I arrived here, so I was in the Gallows a brief while.

( It's useful, sometimes. From time to time.

The flowers are accepted graciously, and she brings them up to inhale their fragrance. )

These are beautiful. Thank you.

( To new beginnings.
Orlesians, the pompous (so, Orlesians) and those who make it their business to be able to discover meanings and hidden messages. Fans were a whole different ball game.

What is his game, she wonders? ) Are the gardens too cold? We can move inside, if you wish.