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

Crystal;

[apocalypsegrown]

Well, firstly, Madame de Foncé, how much is your word worth? If one was to volunteer? Issit just thrown around, or issit 'on pain of death if broken'?

[heirring]

I don't see how that's relevant.

—But for the record, obviously my honor is unimpeachable.

[icasm]

The fact that you don't see how it's relevant is... concerning, Madame.

[heirring]

I would highly advise against taking any endeavor such as this one on the merit of an individual's word, sir.

That said there is ample fact in the report Mister Dickerson and I have drawn up, and the specimen of the severed limb is available for you to observer with your own eyes. If you're after validation, surely those are more legitimizing than my honor.

[icasm]

Yes, you are both scientists and thus your research and paper trails are quite impressive, I'm sure.

Still, the fact remains you are asking to experiment on people and do not see how the validity of your word holds water in this regard?

[heirring]

Let us be frank. The fact that there's been any question implies already that you, in the general sense of the thing, doubt my word. If that's true, nothing I can say will make anyone undoubt it.

Do what you will. I'm quite finished with cajoling.

[icasm]

My dear I am a liar, I doubt everyone's word. Do not take it personally.

[heirring]

The justification for your accusation is noted.

[private]

[apocalypsegrown]

You're not helping.

[private]

[icasm]

[ Loki starts to say something wise, and then stops himself. ]

If you're going to do this, you're not doing it alone.

[private]

[apocalypsegrown]

You don't even know what I'm doing.

[private]

[icasm]

Something reckless, involving this woman and her experiement.

[private]

[apocalypsegrown]

Or something that will benefit us on multiple fronts.

[private]

[icasm]

I'm not telling you not to do it, whatever it is you're willing to let Madame de Fonce do.

I'm only saying that I wish to be there. In case something goes awry.

After the grief you gave me about poisoning it's only fair, Sylvie.

[private]

[apocalypsegrown]

How is that a equal comparison? I don't need a chaperone, and I think that I've proven that. You on the other hand.

[private]

[icasm]

It's not your behavior I'm worried about it's hers.

[private]

[apocalypsegrown]

I've kept myself safe for a thousand years before meeting you Loki. I can handle a woman who can't even say the word sex without having a breakdown.

[private]

[icasm]

She is a quintessential mad scientist, forgive me if I have reservations.

[private]

[apocalypsegrown]

And I intend to use her in kind, who better than a mad scientist to practice enchantment on? Your reservations doesn't mean I want you hovering over my shoulder while I trip my way through relearning a skill I was never formally taught.

Private

[apocalypsegrown]

I would be interested in such a project, but only if you help me with my own in turn.

private forever

[heirring]

[Consider her skeptical.]

Oh? And what project is this that you're pursuing?

[apocalypsegrown]

Something to do with magic that only I can do. Something that as far as I know doesn't properly exist here, at least not how I do it.

[heirring]

[There must be a word in the language of the elves for when fascination finds itself warring with extreme distaste.]

Well. If you would care to submit a little write up of your proposed study and what you wish to accomplish, I would be most happy to review it.

[apocalypsegrown]

Mm. No. I will not be putting what I can do on any kind of paper, too dangerous.

[Theres a little humor in there.]

This would strictly done in confidence. I’d need your word that you’d speak of it to no one.

[heirring]

I trust I will be given no further explanation without such a guarantee, [is highly deadpan. These dramatics seem extraordinarily overblown, thank you very much.

In any case, it is a largely hypothetical question for Wysteria hardly allows for an answer before she is soldiering nobly along:]

I suppose I would be happy enough to keep your secret. Though I'm not promising to assist you. Not until you explain the whole affair in some detail.