003.

[propulsion]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Tony Stark
RECIPIENT: All
NOTES: n/a

Listen up. Few items.

You see someone with a green glowy thing in their hand, they may be capable of more than just a sick rave party. Well documented abilities include offensive energy expulsions and flash-shields, and a couple shard-bearers able to close rifts at a time. New documented abilities include those things, but more, and the ability to close a rift on their lonesome.

And if you also notice a rifter capable of phasing through solid objects, distorting time, blasting green lightning, ask yourself: is that rifter extremely handsome, well groomed, articulate, witty, smells nice, killer biceps? If those things apply, don't freak out, it's on purpose, and not a demon.

Second thing — if you find a rift you weren't expecting, take out a little piece of paper, or write on the back of your hand, the day and time you discovered it, and the day and time it was closed. And the day and time it opened, if you catch that, but we'll settle for the license plate. Forward all notes to Wysteria Poppell.

[ Shuffle shuffle paper sounds. ]

Last thing, uh. Hey, the world is round. Like it's a giant sphere, floating in space. Okay, that's all. Bye now.

Comments

[bouchonne]

No!

[propulsion]

Would I lie?

[bouchonne]

Oh, everyone does at some point or another. This'd be an odd topic for it, though.

[propulsion]

News like this gets called heresy if history's anything to go by, a lot of the time. But I figure the Chantry's got enough on its plate.

Assuming we're talking round world and not my biceps.

[bouchonne]

Thedas is ravaged by war, blood magic, hatred amongst the nations, a centuries-old darkspawn returned through the mists of time - I hope that the shape of a map isn't enough to get anyone worked up.

Those biceps, on the other hand. My word. Like a desire demon itself sculpted them from clay. Look out, dear creature; you might be lit aflame yet.

[propulsion]

[ A beat, then; ]

You're a lot. But not wrong.

[bouchonne]

The Canticle of Byerly tells us to observe and appreciate beauty where we see it.

So why are you applying yourself to mass education, dear fellow?

[propulsion]

I have to live here.

[bouchonne]

I don't believe that the Maker will return if all sing the praises of the way we're floating in space.

[propulsion]

Hurtling, to be more accurate. Through space, around the sun.

And I don't know about that guy, I just like the people I have to interact with every day to have a fundamental understanding about the nature of the knowable universe. I'd tell someone if they got something in their teeth, you know?

[bouchonne]

Hm. Counterpoint, though: what you've said has enlightened me not at all. I have absolutely no ability to even comprehend what you've said or why it matters. Granted, I'm a dull and simple man, quite unlearned, quite unable to name flower or star or river or glen, no wits to untangle the simplest of knots, so perhaps it shall be of more use to others.

[propulsion]

I mean, sure. You can lead an extremely flattering horse to water, can't make him care about its place in the cosmos.

[bouchonne]

True, true. And it's a dangerous game, no? I mean, yes, it's true, the horse is just a dumb beast and to be pitied and held in contempt, and the rider is ever so clever, but it's important to keep in mind who has the muscles and the hooves, hm?

[ a very subtle metaphor. Not a threat, it should be emphasized - Byerly doesn't give a shit - just a reminder that swagger from a Rifter does more harm than good. ]

[propulsion]

Horse has gotten me this far. And I think it likes me. We should tap out of this metaphor before it gets uncomfortable for someone.

[bouchonne]

My dear m'sieur, you are not even remotely close to skilled enough for the task of making me uncomfortable.

[propulsion]

I was mainly talking about the creeps listening in.

[bouchonne]

They deserve discomfort.

[ Louder: ]

Horse-fucking.

[propulsion]

There it is.

So you chimed in to, what, swing your enormous equine counterpoint?

[bouchonne]

To get to know you better, of course. Why, you've been around for how long? And we've scarcely spoken.

[propulsion]

One year, two months, eight days, but who's counting.

[ Not him. ]

How're you doing? And don't take it personal, I've spoken to like three people max.

[bouchonne]

Ah, you know, it's been one of those years where the world is rather dreadful but I've found personal successes. Have you ever experienced that?

[propulsion]

What'd you do, defeat your good twin in single combat?

[bouchonne]

How dare you. I'm the good twin. That's why he had to die, because he refused to acknowledge that I was the good one.