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]

Must I dress as a ham and lie out in a courtyard, waiting?

[apologist]

It is worth a try.

[justice_is_blond]

It is entirely worth a try.

[degenere]

Everything in life is, I suppose.

Would either of you happen to have a ham costume? Freddie can supply the ribbons. Perhaps out of the third-best of her collection, I think, if we ask very nicely.

[justice_is_blond]

If you can bring fabric, I'm certain I can make one. Perhaps we can use a branch painted white as the bone, no less.

[degenere]

An excellent suggestion. How creative you are. A pink fabric, do you think? With quilted brown for the skin.

[justice_is_blond]

Yes. Exactly. Bring it to the Warden camp, and I will make you look like a ham.

[degenere]

Very good. Consider this engagement set, my friend.

[apologist]

I should like to be on hand to intervene if you are about to die. I do not trust these Wardens to do so.

[degenere]

This is the way you think I will die? Not the overlarge poisoned flower. Not the drowning in the cave at rising tide. Not suffocated in the embrace of that large-as-a-Qunari maiden, or conscripted into service, or drunk to death. But this?

Jeannot. You must have faith.

[chainlightning]

I think that's the wrong sort of attention.

I mean. It would get their attention, just. They'd try to eat you.

[degenere]

Ah, but you have said that they like to gnaw upon fingers. How much kinder would they feel, if I were to offer them toes and knees and shoulders, too?

[chainlightning]

Kind enough to leave you covered in your own blood, I'd think.

[degenere]

It would hardly be the first time I have been left bloody and told it was a kindness. What matters, in this instance, is: will the griffons like me more?

[chainlightning]

Enough to try and do it again. Not necessarily enough to let you pet them or ride them.

[degenere]

Ah. Not necessarily. And in that, you have left room for a chance.

[chainlightning]

[ LONG PAUSE ]

I'm sorry, what was your name?

[degenere]

Did I say? Your pardon, mademoiselle. In such times, we often forget our manners, especially when we were not very interested in manners to begin with.

I am Valentine Nicasus Maxence Mérovée Olivier de Foncé.

[chainlightning]

[ ANOTHER LONG PAUSE ]

Do you have a nickname?

[ a shorter pause this time, and- ]

I'm Merrill.

[degenere]

Val would be my nickname. Is 'Merrill' a nickname?

[Also why ask--but he answers without hesitation anyways.]

[chainlightning]

It isn't!

[ because your name is tl;dr val ]

At least, I don't think it is.

[degenere]

You don't know? It is your name, yes? And not one you had stolen? It is not very short, for a nickname, but I suppose if your given name were very, very long...