crystal.

[exequy]

FORM: Crystal.
SENDER: Kostos.
RECIPIENT: Everyone.
NOTES: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Also threadjacking is rad, banter and bicker freely.

The worst country in Thedas—other than Tevinter—

[ A given. ]

—it is Orlais, right? We can all agree to that.

[ Look, he's bored. ]

Comments

[mereandrastianism]

I couldn't possibly say.

[exequy]

I can say. It's Orlais.

[mereandrastianism]

I do, however, feel quite certain it isn't Orlais.

[exequy]

Do you.

[ That's as close to asking her to say why as he's capable of coming. ]

[mereandrastianism]

Of course. The countryside is lovely, the people refined--and some of the finest institutions in Thedas exist within these borders.

[exequy]

The people are ridiculous and the institutions would be better anywhere else.

[mereandrastianism]

And where is it you propose is so much finer?

[exequy]

Everywhere else is better. Except Tevinter.

Kirkwall is even better.

[mereandrastianism]

[ This is beginning to rile her--not this gentleman in particular, but in general. So there's a pause, a breath, and a sort of forced blandness enters her voice, like the question might be a genuine one: ]

What are your thoughts on the University of Kirkwall?

[exequy]

That if it existed, it would not produce anyone like Val de Foncé.

[mereandrastianism]

But it doesn't exist. If the institutions are nonexistent anywhere else on the continent, conjecture about what they might be like doesn't matter.

[degenere]

A compliment, monsieur? I did not expect it and I am honored by it. You are correct, no University of Kirkwall could provide such an education as I have had. Very distinct.

[elegiaque]

Refined here meaning 'codpieces are only so difficult to remove so as to ensure that the only person who gets cockslapped after lords have been drinking together is the servant who has to help get it off'.

[mereandrastianism]

[ A pause. ]

...This is a public discussion, Serah. Surely we might keep it appropriate for all listening ears.

[elegiaque]

Don't stick your fingers up the collective Orlesian cunt if you don't like what comes off on your hand.

[mereandrastianism]

I beg your pardon?

[elegiaque]

( carefully enunciated as if talking to a very slow child, in native orlesian: )

If I could make out what you were saying around your vigorous attempts to deepthroat my entire country, I'm sure you don't need me to repeat myself.

[elegiaque]

In seriousness, don't say things like that around Orlesian nobility, none of them will care beyond those that are going to imagine you saying it later while they're jerking themselves off, and half of them will assume it means you're trying to indicate you're—well, if you will insist on your tender ears, let's say ripe for conquest.

[bouchonne]

My dear poetess, could you perhaps use metaphors a tad less licentious in nature?

[mereandrastianism]

[ This is cause for a sort of humiliated fury that really has no place being aired, let alone where all and sundry can hear. She forces it down until she can make herself sound like they're discussing the weather, all even-tempered unimportance.]

I appreciate your thoughts on the matter, if not your crudity. I'm sure we might agree to disagree on this point.

[ Her accent is still decidedly Marcher, but her Orlesian is well-studied. ]

[sulahnan]

That's as appropriate as Orlais gets, kid.

[mereandrastianism]

I sincerely doubt that, Serah.

[sulahnan]

Of course you would, with ears like yours.

[elegiaque]

If I'm going to be fingered in public, I'm not going to be told off for moaning.

( Notable Orlesian Poet, Gwenaëlle Baudin )

[mereandrastianism]

...My ears.