therookery | [ Open | Sending Crystal ]

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[ Open | Sending Crystal ]

FORM: Sending Crystal
SENDER: Obi-Wan Kenobi
RECIPIENT: Everyone
WHAT: An announcement, and a thought-experiment
WHEN: After having resolved the Leliana/Assassination plot
NOTES: n/a

This is Obi-Wan Kenobi. I apologize for the delay in doing so, but I'd like to make an announcement; I've been appointed as the liason for the Rifter population.

For this reason, if you have a concern about a particular Rifter which cannot be peacefully resolved on your own, or if any Rifter has need of information, or support, please don't hesitate to contact me. I know we may not seem like any kind of cohesive group, but you aren't alone. Please, try to remember that.

[He clears his throat, then and continues.]

As for the rest of you, I have a question. Nothing too serious, just a little... oh, call it a thought-exercise: I first heard this one as a child.

If your house was on fire, what's the first thing you'd take out of it?

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Because I have an opinion and I won't shut up? One might think I'm being singled out.

[Or punished. He hasn't encountered it just yet, but he can practicalyl smell the first nonsense problem on its way. In any group of people there's going to be at least one who attracts trouble like a magnet, and the Rifters are surely no different.]

I'm kidding. [mostly] We should all be so lucky, to have your carrying capacity.

And horns. They make decent handles.

[She chuckles, then grows more serious.]

Because you stand up for people, and the rifters need that. Not shutting up is a requirement, I'd think.

Doubt anyone could forget the horns. Reminds me of home, come to think of it.

[Unless you count the clones, he hasn't lived among so human a population in a long time.]

I only hope I can serve my duty well, do some good here.

You've already started; just keep doing what you're doing, and you'll be fine. And if you need me to loom over anyone, just let me know.

...really? I think that's the first time any rifter found them familiar. It turns out that humans and elves are everywhere, but other races? Not so much.

I'm much more used to a crowd with a little more-- ah, call it variety? No elves, nor qunari specifically, I'm afraid , but many races have horns, or other similar structures. Lekku, montrals, tusks, that kind of thing.

Not that I mind my own species at all. It's just one more fascinating difference, that's all.

If you have any drawing skills, you should put them to use sometime. I'd love to see this variety you speak of, especially anything that resembles my kind in any way. My company sisters might get a kick out of it, too.

I daresay they'd seem nothing less than pure fantasy. But I'll give it a try-- can I catch up with you tonight?

I'm willing to keep an open mind.

And sure, sounds good. If you want to meet at the tavern, I'll buy a round.

Of the many ways anyone might describe you, Korrin Ataash, never closed-minded.

I'll see you tonight, then.

[That gets her to laugh. If only he heard the Templars' complaints about her.]

Good! I look forward to it.

[And she'll claim a table by draping her legs over the chairs and basically taking up as much space as possible. It always seems to get the point across. At least she makes up for it by buying other people drinks, at random points.]

[Obi-Wan steps up, observing her form in the ancient art of saving a space. He's not sure if he admires her alacrity, or if he's more worried about the rudeness it represents, but in the end, he says nothing, only gestures with the sheaf of vellum-smooth drawing paper he's brought, and takes a seat.]

Good evening, Korrin. I come prepared.

[Upon seeing Obi-Wan, Korrin sits up straighter and calls out for two ales before turning her attention to him.]

Good evening to you, too. I see you've been busy. What do you have for me?

I don't know if they're any good, but-- I tried.

[They are, in fact, not that great. But they're better than scribbles, and if the poses are uniformly stiff and doll-straight, the details are informative.

There's a Togruta, twin horns tall and striped, arched like the arms of a lute, and a Twilek, both with trailing head-tails. On the next page, a Wookie, and the next the outlandish, bug-like head and shoulders of a Rodian, among others. There would be no way to mistake any of them for human.]

I could've continued. Honestly, I'm a little guilty about how many friends I'm leaving out.

[Looking them over, Korrin grins.]

They're better than anything I could've done, I'll tell you that. Oh man, I love the horns. And...are those tails? On their head? Wow, you weren't kidding about variety....

They can have as many as four; that's meant to be Master Shak-Ti, a colleague of mine. If these were in color, they'd be even more interesting-- Togruta have bright orange skin, white markings, and the stripes on their heads are typically blue on white. It's quite striking.

[He taps each of the drawings, denoting the color, green, blue, black, as each requires.]

And this isn't even half of it. Don't even get me started on the language difficulties.

Amazing....

[Korrin's gaze follows his tapping, trying to picture it for herself.]

Do you have a common trade language, like we do? Though given what I see here, I can see that still being a challenge. [She points to the bug-like individual, wondering how the hell that would work.]

Basic, it's called, though as you can see, not everyone is equipped to speak it.

[He indicates the drawing of the Rodian she'd pointed out, with its elongated proboscis mouth, clearly unsuitable to the forms of language someone with a more usual conformation could produce.]

There are automatic translating machines, and of course protocol droids, but most people try to learn at least a few other languages. I could understand him, for example.

[Korrin nods slowly, her gaze lingering on the Rodian for a moment.]

Translating machines sound damn useful. Almost everyone here speaks Trade, but there are instances where they don't. I've met some of my kind who don't speak anything but Qunlat, though that's rare outside Qunari lands. And there are languages fallen into disuse, like elven and a lot of the dwarven tongues.

...'protocol droids'?

[He picks up the explination smoothly, having anticipated it. He's had to stumble through this one more than once, and has finally nailed it down.]

A droid is a machine built to look and act a little like a person. They're still obviously made of metal, though, and they aren't really alive. A Protocol Droid is specifically made to be useful in diplomatic situations, and they often serve in the place of translators. No living being can learn the number of languages a Droid can be programmed to use.

[The Vashoth woman furrows her brow, trying to picture how such a construct would look and behave.]

It almost sounds like it could be a dwarven construct; they can make golems, after all, but I don't think infusing them with vast amounts of language-knowledge is a thing.

You should tell Ambassador Montilyet about this, I bet she'd be fascinated by the concept.

If it comes up, I'll mention it.

So, were these anything like what you imagined?

They're even better than I thought, Obi-Wan. It's a little weird, realizing that there's so much more out there than we have in Thedas, but a good weird? At any rate, now I'm hoping a little that I'll get to see some of these folk step out of a rift.

...though it'd be even harder to sell the 'not demons' angle when others see them.

That's what I'm afraid of, to be honest. Jedi are peacekeepers, but we are trained to defend ourselves against attacks. You've seen what happens when a Jedi lightsaber makes contact with steel?

[Plasma blades go through breastplates and sword-blades not quite as easily as through flesh, but the advantage is significant.]

It could be very ugly.

Hm...that might worth seeing the ambassador or her direct reports about. They could be made aware and...I don't know, try to help people calm down somehow, before things escalate? I'm no diplomat, I've no idea how they'd best go about it.

[The world of not saying what she thinks all the time? An utterly foreign one.]

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