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

[heirring]

[Thank the spirits, here at least is an escape route from the hideously clumsy turn this has taken.]

Oh so then you're matched already and all my good advice is entirely wasted. You must tell me everything about your companion, dear lady.

[swordproof]

Matched? No, I’m - not. I’m not.

[heirring]

[A small, bewildered sound. A long pause like a question mark. But hadn't she just said--?

Eventually:]

I think we've lost each other somewhere.

[swordproof]

I was speaking of observation before training. For a weapon.

[heirring]

Oh. Yes. Of course. Forgive me, I thought we were still on the subject of-- Well it isn't important. [Let's not speak of romance and the matter of practice. There are far more interesting topics at hand. Namely:] Tell me then, what weapon do you use? And really, you must say whether it's your profession or past time. I have a great admiration of women here who 'make their way by the sword'. Or bow. Or whatever you like.

[Lady knights are far more romantic than the topic of courting and marriage.]

[swordproof]

No, I - I should have been more clear. [ This is horrifically awkward, but here she is. ] I use a greatsword, but I am trained in long and short blades, daggers, bows and crossbows and the use of shields. It was my calling, at home.

[heirring]

[Then please, allow her to lead running away from the awkward corner of this conversation as quickly as they're able. She dives into this far preferable subject wiht gusto:]

Spirits! To have some proficiency with so many weapons seems quite the accomplishment. Are all bread and butter warriors such as yourself so skilled in such a variety, or have you simply applied yourself to the task in particular? --and you must describe your home. Is it Ferelden or the Marches? [Hopefully:] Rivain?

[swordproof]

[ Six is a touch baffled by the questions, but - ]

I trained for a long time. Since I was a very small girl. [ The less said about that the better, she thinks. ] I do not have a home, so I travel. The world I am from is much like this one, more akin to Ferelden, I think, than any other place.

[heirring]

--Oh! [It's a bright, clear exclamation - all pleasure and curiosity.] You're a Rifter! How grand. We should be friends.

[swordproof]

Is that how it works, to be a Rifter?

[heirring]

I don't see why not. There's no reason at all in the world why we shouldn't be friends and stick together in a strange new place, is there?

[swordproof]

Have you been here long, my lady?

[heirring]

Please, Miss Poppell. --But six weeks or there about. And yourself, my honorable lady knight?

[swordproof]

It has been almost eight months for me now.

[heirring]

My, that's quite the tenure. You must be quite used to all of Thedas' little oddities now. Is it very different from the place you come from?

[swordproof]

I am growing accustomed to them, yes. [ Hesitant, but - ] It is not entirely different. We have dragons, and swords, and Gods.

[heirring]

Dragons-- spirits, have you fought one yourself? How romantic.

[Lady knights are, unequivocally, the best thing to ever happen.]

[swordproof]

I have fought a dragon before. I do not know how romantic it was.

[heirring]

Oh, fantastically so! It's exactly as in a book someone might read as a girl, isn't it? Fighting dragons is the sort of thing great poems and that sort of thing are written about. Which is how you tell a good poem from a lousy one. The best ones are all passionate and daring about a thing, I think.

[swordproof]

I did not read many books as a child, so I could not say. [ That's a sour enough thing, so moving on - ] They speak the heroics, not necessarily the truth. That is a lesson to learn.

[heirring]

Well yes, of course they're nothing like reality. Even I'm not that silly. But they say something about what we find most elegant and charming, don't they? Stories, I mean. Hence the romance.

[swordproof]

Are such things elegant? I do not think I have seen a fight that I would call charming - how are they detailed, in these books? I would... I am curious.

[heirring]

Oh, spirits. I don't know that I could quote anything off the top of my head. Recitation - of poetry anyway - isn't really anything I'm good at, I'm afraid. But I'll describe the general sense, shall I?

[Without pause, she launches into it:]

These things usually begin with a description of the knight in question and their armor and colors and crests, the latter of which all stand for something like virtue or honesty or some allusion to some virtuous Lord in the upper house who's commissioned the thing. And usually they carry some blessed sword or enchanted shield and there is an entire aside about their lover or their cause or the land that they come from and how the dragon has ruined one, two, or three. Oh and usually the dragon is really meant to be someone quite unpopular in one of the courts or Houses. And then of course they meet in some field of battle all rife with meaning and the brave knight slays the horrible dragon and so on and so forth. It's all very dramatic.

[bouchonne]

[ He's laughing. ]

[swordproof]

[ bitch ]