therookery | tonight on cops: thedas edition

FORM: Sending crystal
SENDER: Yngvi Congealedinagutterson. Yes that's his name
RECIPIENT: Unfortunately everyone.
WHAT: Yngvi goes to check in on Gwen's dad. He tries to contact her using Asher's sending crystal before he heads to Skyhold. He ends up contacting all of Skyhold. (But Gwen's dad is trying to murder him so that can probably be forgiven.)
WHEN: Probably slightly backdated to a few days back. Timey-wimey
WHERE: Orlais; the Vauquelin estate
NOTES: Language. Dwarfing under the influence. Violence in the background. Threadjacking totally allowed!

[Here's the thing: just because Yngvi took possession of Asher Hardie's sending crystal upon Asher's death (some one had to, since someone has to stay in Skyhold to honour the fact that Asher signed them up and Yngvi is the charming one okay, most suited to that legacy) that doesn't mean Yngvi knows how to use said sending crystal.

So what's meant to be a private message to one Gwenaëlle Vauquelin becomes horribly public.]

Gwenaëlle? Is this thing-- [Okay that is a lot of angry background noise? Does it sound Orlesian? It probably sounds Orlesian.

To some who know him it might sound alarmingly like Emeric Vauquelin actually. And the frantic scramblings of a dwarf.] So here's the thing, I stopped by to see your old man, avail myself of his legendary hospitality. He's in rude health. Just wondering if you wanted anything picked up? I've got the silverware and the best brandy. By the way, what's that really dark purple colour because it's my colour I look--

[There's a very loud crash, and a truly ear-piercing shriek from the dwarf on the other end of the sending crystal.] Sir! Sir I am changing!

[[ooc: Hello welcome to Yngvi's liveblog escape from the Vauquelin estate where Gwen's dad is going to eventually try to shoot him with a crossbow. He has this completely under control.]]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( very abruptly; )

No!

Extremely enchanted. Enough to pledge a full bottle of wine and a meal for during the telling, was it- Yngvi?

[ now, he's curious about the masculine voice in the background. ]

I assume that is your father, my lady?

Maybe. I don't know.

( yes.

she's in so much trouble yngvi why are you so bad at making things private!!! )

You do not know the sound of your own father's voice?

[ a slow exhale, and then- ]

Is he in genuine trouble?

Not if he's quick enough. But -

( he can probably just hear the face she's making. meanwhile, lex can probably hear this entire conversation, sitting beside her as he is - )

You wouldn't credit it, I know, but my lord might well beat seven kinds of hell out of him if he catches up.

Is he quick? The brandy will not be helping that.

[ hello, lex. it is thranduil, gwen's tol elf. ]

I do not doubt your father's prowess. I am curious as to why he might dub this Man a threat. Surely he had the sense to introduce himself before going through the silverware?

Yes, that - won't have helped.

( SUCH RESIGNATION )

No, I think not.

[ considering approx how much he wants to get involved... ]

How far is the estate from Halamshiral? If the Inquisition were to need to send a scout to bring him back?

Too far to get there promptly enough. You know -

I'm sure he'll be fine.

Of course, my lady. He seems the hearty sort.

He's very fast.

Has he ever attempted to dip himself in oil? It might aid in evasion.

( the face that lex makes is not audible, but there is some flap-handed rustling that probably translates to gwenaëlle discouraging a louder reaction now that she's remembered this is supposed to be private and someone else is present. )

I'm not asking Yngvi if he's ever greased himself up.

Perhaps your friend might?

[ yeah he heard that. ]

What friend.

( gwenaëlle sweeps her hand out from under lex's on his knee.

and then, after a moment of defiant consideration, immediately puts it back. )

The one you saw fit to silence.

I hope they are in better health than Yngvi, after such violence.

I'm sure Yngvi's fine. He sounds like he's doing all right.

( why are you like this )

Yngvi is the sort who would outlive--

well, not myself, but everyone else. Your friend, however, your wrath is a fearsome thing. Come, friend, speak up, I would know who my lady invites into her company so freely.

[ because he likes you, gwen. let him into your heart. ]

Oh, my apologies. I didn't realize this was a party I was invited too.

[ dries up everything from the waking sea on ]

( they are essentially now actually holding hands, and gwenaëlle is somewhat more conscious of it than she was moments ago. if no one says something is weird is it then not weird?

yes. )

Thranduil, Alexander Luthor.

I'm not wrathful, I'm very nice.

You do not need an invitation; I am fond enough of Gwenaëlle to issue her a permanent plus-one to any revelry I might host.

[ he's not there, so he can't bow, but: ]

Le suilon. Are you my lady's smith? [ he hasn't forgotten in the least. ] Yes, my lady, very nice.

[ oh my god he somehow gets even drier ]

I don't know, what would qualify the possessive? If it's that I've done work for her I'm a number of people's smiths. How tarnishing to my reputation.

[ it's totally not weird, what would make it weird ]

Edited 2016-09-12 05:06 (UTC)

It can't be that, I'm sure I'm not to be associated with some sort of tarty workman -

( wait, damn it )

I don't have any smiths.

( that's better. )

'Tarty workman'?

[ eyebrow raise from all the way across orlais. ]

My lady does not seem the type to be possessed, only to possess.

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goodforsaken - 2016-09-13 07:20 (UTC) - Expand

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tonight on cops: thedas edition

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