crystal.

[elegiaque]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Gwenaëlle Baudin
RECIPIENT: You lot.

( this might be the soonest that she's ever begun a crystal message for the gallows after having done one within a month or so. gwenaëlle's voice, again, briskly businesslike: )

Before we all fuck off to parts unknown, if you're within a few inches of my height and happen to wear mostly or ever dresses, and you're in need of something suitable to wear out in the cities, I am clearing a great deal of my old wardrobe. I can help with on the spot alterations, but anything that's going to need to be properly taken apart for you will obviously have to wait.

If you don't need a dress to look presentable in Nevarra City and you just want to rifle through my old clothes for something you might like, that's also fine. I'm doing my prep before we leave, and if I'm not on the boat, Guilfoyle will be. He's a dab hand with a needle.

( on the boat, a profusion of mostly creamy, neutral fabrics have taken over the gallery that opens out from her entrance hall: sorted loosely by styles, fabrics, colours, patterns, the cushions that usually occupy the space shunted into a corner, some dresses that need hanging put up over the top of the art that hangs between the wide windows. there are shoes, some placed with the dresses they were bought to match, others just lined up along the narrow walkaway that rings the room around the conversation pit; several grand hats, a few cloaks and coats.

some of it will be familiar, if you've been here for long enough, but she suspects most of the probable handful people who might be interested won't have been; will not recognise her in the things she is giving away. )

Comments

[elegiaque]

They're surprisingly difficult to avoid if you haven't recently done terrorism.

[elegiaque]

( gwenaëlle recalls, a little, the things ness has said before about her father, the shade of her skin —

recalls, too, the way she had felt in the dream that had been loxley's world, feeling the points of her ears. the peculiar euphoria that had accompanied it, how she'd worn her hair pulled away from them, remembered so dimly the pinch of fingers pressing the soft roundness of the ears of a child into nearly-points and it is easy, actually, to reverse it. even only: standing in the courtyard of skyhold, vigorously adjusting her bodice, making a joke of it so that asher would tell her she was beautiful.

(how gentle he had been with her, bracketing that little display with his body.) )

I've taught myself to do it by feel, ( she says, after a pause, looking up this time, ) when I'm in the field. Once you've done it that way a few times, it's almost easier without the mirror— and anything more complicated will need a second pair of hands, anyway.

( there is an offer hanging implicit in that, but she hesitates to press it. )

[youwonscience]

[If they were closer, she might have made the and even then joke that's on the tip of her tongue, but she's not sure if Gwenaëlle would take it in the spirit she means it. Instead:]

Tony definitely had more home-world experience with fancy parties than I do, but I feel like at least I've been in Thedas long enough not to actively embarrass anyone. I'll appreciate the wardrobe boost, though.

[brennvin]

It doesn’t need to be immediate, I don’t think I’ve any invites to any fancy balls or what-the-fuck-ever. ( Yet?? ) But yeh, I figure at least having the option’s a good idea for when it’s needed.

( A beat, thinking, then she mutters: ) Ugh, I’m gonna look so stupid.

[elegiaque]

The point of this exercise, ideally, is to give away things that I liked so that other people can enjoy them, or have meaningful use of them,

( very dryly, )

you're not getting anything for insulting my taste or that you'll be fucking miserable wearing.

[brennvin]

( She doesn’t backpedal or apologise, but: )

It’s not about your taste. You look good in your taste. Just—

You’re Forces. How do you fight in a dress? Any tips? I’ve never not been in pants. Like, ever.

[elegiaque]

Mostly I don't, ( is the honest answer. ) I've lost a couple of dresses to tearing the skirt off and hitching what's left, but if I know I'm going to be fighting, I plan ahead, you know, if I know I'm going to have to take the dress off then it needs to be easier to do and ideally something under it that's more suitable, but best case scenarios aren't always an option.

My work clothes don't involve dresses.

[aberratic]

[ the usual desperate instinct toward self-sufficience rears its head, insisting the not-quite-offer be denied—she knows it's possible to do it by feel now, which should be enough to teach it to herself and not bother gwenaëlle any further—

but she will be in val royeaux soon, and minrathous, and nevarra, and it's important that she get this right. there is precious little time for trial and error, for testing what works and what does not, and absolutely no leeway for not at minimum looking like she belongs.

best not to force gwenaëlle to offer twice. ]

That's a skill I would like to learn, [ admitted quietly, as though against her own will. ] I would prefer not to embarrass Riftwatch if I can help it.

[brennvin]

Mostly I’m thinkin’ of times I won’t be able to get away with work clothes. ( Yseult’s probably not going to fling Astrid in the deep end with something deep undercover at a nobles’ ball, but there’s fewer people in Scouting than in Forces. Necessity, mother of invention, blah blah. )

Maybe— I’ve leggings underneath and then a dress or skirt with some fastenings I could quickly undo and drop, so it doesn’t have to be torn or damaged?

Cos I do appreciate it, captain. Don’t want it to seem like I don’t.

[elegiaque]

( her tone suggests relent— )

I'll set a few things aside and we'll see what we can't make work, when there's more time. And there are options for formal wear, and even with dresses, where we can include the trousers purposefully. You'll just need nicer trousers, too.

[brennvin]

( Simply, warmly: ) You’re aces.