Griffon gripes

[aventuriere]

FORM: Sending crystal
SENDER: Freddie, Val, and Jehan (your favorites!)
RECIPIENT: Everyone
WHAT: A Griffon Grievance
WHEN: Now
WHERE: Everywhere
NOTES: Can we say a group of griffons is called a grievance? A grievance of griffons?

Inquisition.

[This is Val. Don’t stop listening, his tone is grave and serious, which means what follows will be equally grave and serious.]

When one thinks of the noblest of creatures, beasts of the air, one must first and always think of griffons. The dragon, she has a certain unspeakable loveliness, a loveliness of her form, in all her savage glory, but if the word to meditate upon is nobility, then it is the griffon that comes first to mind. On this, we can all agree, yes?

So, then, tell to me: why complain about the smell? [ Because it is terrible! another accented voice says in the background, muffled. ] Yes, it is a pungent aroma. But nobly so. Less noble and far more worthy of complaint is the habit of the griffon of which books do not speak of: the habit of airborne thievery.

A whole ham, Inquisition.

[ Jeannot—who had his despondent face buried in a pillow, before this point—lifts his head to chime in. ]

A good ham. It tasted of hope. Or I imagine that it must have, before it was swallowed whole by a beast who did not even pause to appreciate it.

We ought to have been warned. And another thing—

And another thing! [ It's Freddie now, talking over Jehan, feel free to begin paying attention again. She sounds incensed, but also like she's probably putting it on a bit. ] Hair ribbons! If the beasts want my last good set of silk hair ribbons I would be more than happy to donate them to the cause of brightening up the horribly dull colors you chose for their tack, but I won't have them eaten! It shows an appalling lack of taste which would never have happened if these fine Orlesian creatures had been properly raised.

Perhaps it is not the tack that is the problem? Perhaps it is the color of the griffons themselves. The horrible grays, and duns - the griffons are surely desperate. I would be. Can you dye the feathers, do you think?

—I was going to say, [ Jehan continues, ] I think we are owed an explanation, as academics, for this reemergence of an extinct species. As well as a new ham. If we are given these things then perhaps we can offer ribbons and dye.

And if we offer these griffons ribbons, and dye, and perhaps the smallest piece of our ham - I will take the cut, my friends - perhaps then the griffons will find themselves more kindly disposed to us. And by us I mean me. [If Val sounds a little sulky, that’s because he is.] What an unkindness. I will stoop to bribery if I must, griffons.

Comments

[degenere]

Ah! A pleasure, monsieur. I have not yet acquainted myself with as many Rifters as perhaps I could, or should. I had hoped you were of Orlais, but this is nearly as good.

How many griffons of this other land have you met, do you think? And are they all so fond of stolen hams?

[not_the_question]

At least seven that I have personally seen. Eight, if you count the ones here. They're a bit like humans. Oh they change and transform. There are many creatures that adopt aspects of their shapes, but in the end, every one I've read about, seen, or heard from others who had seen them, they always revert to their same basic shape.

To answer your question, Griffon younglings are curious creatures. And like any child, they like treats. Meats are their treats, though, I'm not sure the salt content would be good for them. They might be fine. After all, these are not the Griffons I know.

Treat them with the respect of the magnificent creatures they are, while remembering that they are curious children and that should solve your problems.

[Basically, the Doctor will never fault a creature for doing what it does naturally, especially when others can adjust their habits to protect themselves from the natural actions of the creature.]

[degenere]

Ah. You have quite a lot to say, yes?

But first, your pardon, monsieur. For the clarity of our notes. Is this count of griffons eight that you have seen, as a total? Or eight different--how would you said--eight different species of griffons, 'griffon' being the order by which they are first called.

I am not sure that I understand the difference. 'The basic shape', you say. That is the shape of the griffon, as we know it? Lion and eagle?

[not_the_question]

Well, I've lived a long time. I've experinced a lot.

[And he says good things. Important things. Things that would help others, if they only listened.]

I suppose you could say different species. Since they're on different planets. Whole entire different Galaxies, actually...

[Yes, he's now longing for what he used to do.]

Sure. Lion and eagle. Except where it's a peacock and a dragon. Or a finch and a house-cat.

[Seriously, no sweat off his back that these are all basically griffons.]

[degenere]

This sounds a mad dream. Or perhaps a confusion, as one might grow when one is very aged.

[But he sounds fascinated and pleased and not at all like he's making an old joke.]

Was the finch and house-cat a very small griffon, or was it of size with these griffons of Thedas? I would hate to think of so large a finch. Imagine the power of the song.

[not_the_question]

[The Doctor wouldn't be offended by such anyway. Being four and a half billion years old, there isn't a lot that is older than him.]

It was a small griffon. Luckily the cat part was fairly small as well. It could fit in my pocket.

[Which isn't saying much since his pockets are bigger on the inside.]

[degenere]

I am glad to hear it. What of the peacock and dragon? As large as a dragon, or a peacock? Or mis-matched sizes?

[not_the_question]

Mis-matched, though not as drastic as the dragons you have here. These dragons were about the size of lions.

[degenere]

But are our lions of size with yours. That is now the question.

[not_the_question]

Going by the size of your griffons? Comparable enough.

[degenere]

[okay no wait]

Your pardon, monsieur. You have been allowed near to the griffons?

[not_the_question]

Yes. Is there a problem with that?

[He elongated the 'yes' just a bit. And the furrowing of his eyebrows could probably be heard in the tone of his voice.]

[degenere]

Besides how unfair it is?

[not_the_question]

Unfair? I don't understand.

[degenere]

You are not even of Thedas! You have seen numerous other griffons! Why should you be allowed this special privilege, of the griffons? What sense is there in this world?

[not_the_question]

Perhaps because I've seen numerous other griffons. I know a thing or two about them.

[It wasn't that. It was more right place; right time.]

[degenere]

You know of cats.

[not_the_question]

What do cats have to do with it?

[degenere]

A finch and a house-cat, you said. Monsieur, you have made false representation of your griffon knowledge.

[not_the_question]

Hardly.

[Yes, that was a very mature-sounding raspberry being blown. What of it?]

Do you honestly think that Griffons are the same on every single planet out there?

[degenere]

I would not know. I know the griffons of Thedas, the very ones of which we now speak.

[not_the_question]

Yes. And you seem to have a problem with the fact that I met them. Which I don't understand. Especially since you're complaining about how they're treating you.

[degenere]

I have no problem with the griffons, truly. Nor do I have a problem with you. But I am offended, monsieur, that you would enjoy such a proximity to these griffons when your credentials are but the words of your mouth.

[apologist]

I don't believe him.

[degenere]

Do not try to comfort me.