crystal;

[heirring]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Richard Dickerson & Wysteria de Foncé
RECIPIENT: You All
NOTES: The highly scientific results from studying a not-so-recent amputation, and a call for volunteers (don't worry, it's not volunteering to get your limbs chopped off). Wysteria is in blue. Richard is in green.

Hello everyone. This is Madame de Foncé speaking, accompanied by Mister Dickerson. There is a whole report written up on the matter which we wish to discuss today. Anyone curious will find it filed among the Project Felandaris records. However, we agreed [sure that's the word for 'Wysteria bullied Richard into it'] that discussing the broad points in a more public venue might do some good.

Go ahead, Mister Dickerson.

Dissection of Madame de Foncé’s arm revealed extensions of the anchor growing outward along the vascular system, confirming the existing supposition that as much of the affected limb should be taken as possible to ensure an anchor is truly separated from its host.

[ There is an odd beat where it seems likely Mister Dickerson is hoping for Wysteria to chirp back in before he continues: ]

It further appears that lyrium has an affinity for -- [ more quietly ] Rifter flesh, for lack of a more delicate distinction. When exposed to Madame de Foncé’s arm it made a fleeting attempt to regrow the parts of her that were missing. [ So the rest of the Wysteria? Another pause. He doesn’t deign to specify. ]

We believe it may hold promise as a healing agent for Rifters if applied topically.

[Which brings them to the true aim of this whole endeavor, the enthusiasm for which has Wysteria's clipping in so briskly after him that there's almost no pause at all between 'if applied topically,' and—]

And so Mister Dickerson and I would like to make a request for volunteers from among the Rifter population. We would like to make a more thorough study of the effects of lyrium on us. I have prepared a sort of sign up form and have posted it on the door of Project Felandaris' office. If you would please add your name to it, Mister Dickerson, and myself, and indeed the general record would be most grateful.

That's all. Thank you. Ask whatever questions you wish to.

[Slightly muffled then, as if the crystal has been lowered away from the general nexus of conversation, Wysteria continues on in the same breath, 'You see, Mister Dickerson? That wasn't painful in the slightest. I hardly see why you were so hesitant—']

Comments

[exequy]

Nothing is stopping any of you from opening a bakery in Lowtown.

[nonvenomous]

You're right. Curious how compliant we all are with such a desirable opportunity so close at hand.

[exequy]

You could also consider becoming a butcher.

[nonvenomous]

I don't have the stomach for it.

[exequy]

With all this?

[ Not feigned surprise. If Richard is being sarcastic, it has flown over his bullish head. ]

[nonvenomous]

I am beginning to understand the danger inherent in magic being inherited rather than conferred or studied.

[exequy]

[ Breaking news: it is possible to agree with someone and also want to make them come fist fight you in the library. Especially when you're fully aware that making them come fist fight you in the library would be further evidence that they're correct.

But, like, it'd feel good. ]

Fuck you.

[ Also, ]

Obviously it's dangerous.

[nonvenomous]

I hope you don't insult people with the expectation they shouldn't return the favor.

[ His voice piped through the crystal is entirely neutral and somehow all the more punchable for it. ]

Regardless, I'm glad that we agree.