crystal.

[byblow]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Alistair
RECIPIENT: Everyone around the Gallows
WHAT: A survey
WHEN: Nowish
NOTES: This is only partly my fault

[ Let it be said that Alistair has backed down from all manner of challenges and dares and weird games of chicken, if they were stupid and he wasn't in the mood, but also let it be said that he hasn't backed down from this specific one. ]

I know we're all very busy preventing the world from ending, but if I could have a moment of your time for some important questions—

First, I need to know what sorts of things you consider good-looking, in a man, generally speaking. It doesn't matter if you're attracted to men or not, before anyone feels the need to explain their love lives to me. I only need to know what sort of man-faces you think are pleasant.

And then I need to know if you think Byerly Rutyer is good looking enough to make up for not being a nice man.

And he'd also like to know how much money each of you have. I think that's important for you to know before you answer the nice man part.

Comments

[byblow]

Intolerable.

—are you getting all this down, Rutyer?

[ Since he's meant to be taking notes. ]

[bouchonne]

I am, I am. Does "intolerable" have one "u," or two?

[byblow]

Three.

[bouchonne]

Ah, how right you are, dear Bastard. In...tol...er...a...ble...

[byblow]

Untulurublu.

[ And again, with a bad Orlesian accent, ]

Untulurublu.

[bouchonne]

[ With an equally bad one: ]

Ahhhh, noooon, you must pronounce eet more like - errrrrrnuuununu.

[byblow]

Errrrrrrrrrrnuuuunuuuuuuuuuu?

[bouchonne]

Andraste's tits, it's like you were born to speak Orlesian. Your accent is perfect.

[coquettish_trees]

Both of you have absolutely monstrous accents.

[ H U F F ]

Really. It is completely eeerrrrrnuuuunuuuu.

[byblow]

Eeerrrrrnuuuunuuuu—that is how Lady Isolde sounded.

[coquettish_trees]

[ with immense satisfaction ]

Much improved, ser. I am impressed at your fine ear for language.

[bouchonne]

Oooooooo-weeeeee-ooooooooh....

[heirring]

Thank you for taking him to task, Messere. It should be considered a public service.

[byblow]

I've been thinking, when this war is over and we have to decide what to do about the Wardens, we might consider expanding our mission. To defending Thedas from the Blight and from Byerly Rutyer.

[heirring]

Oh, I don't know - Mr Rutyer can't be that significant a threat. How many Wardens are there, exactly? Couldn't it be the assignment of just one or two?

[byblow]

Maybe if it were one or two Wardens' full-time, long-term assignments.

[heirring]

No, no. Come to think of it when you word it that way, that wouldn't do either. It must be a rotating assignment so no one has to spend such an extended length of time in his company. As really, there can only be one of two results to such long-term exposure and they are either that your poor Wardens would be driven to do some considerable act of violence, or - worse by far - that they might be the type to fall prey to Mr Rutyer's very specific kind of charm. Which I regret to say out loud does exist, though it's very particular and have only a very niche audience.

[bouchonne]

Hah.

[heirring]

Mind your own business, Mr Rutyer. Can't you see we're discussing deployment strategy? Are you an expert at the management of armed forces now too?

[bouchonne]

Sorry, sorry. Carry on.

[byblow]

Ah, good thinking. One or two will fall to him regardless, probably, but it’s that or the Calling—we’ll just have to kill them before it gets too bad.

[heirring]

[The what? But no, they're having fun here and it sounds dreary. She can ask someone later.]

The very definition of a mercy killing, I believe.

[byblow]

[ Good instincts. He’d only make jokes anyway. ]

No man could call it murder.

[ —dramatically, deeper voiced. But then he sheds it. ]

But while this war is going on we don’t have the manpower to do the job, unfortunately.

[heirring]

[A bright laugh, then a stern clearing of her throat so she might adopt some good humored faux seriousness:]

Then it must be added to the long list of terrible things happening on account of the war. And maybe the next time the Inquisition is in a position to bargain with someone, it can trade some aid or support in exchange for the services of some grim heavy handed old maid to mind Mr Rutyer until the Wardens have the time.

[byblow]

You know, for that, we might not have to bargain at all. I’m sure there are plenty of elders who want to help the cause somehow but can’t heft a shield anymore. They might do it for free.