crystal.

[byblow]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Alistair
RECIPIENT: All y'all
WHAT: Innocent and totally random question
WHEN: Now
NOTES: Threadjacking is cool, kiss kiss.

What's a reasonable amount of time to stay angry with someone?

[ There is a fairly obvious difference between Alistair's I have a serious question voice and I am trying to cause trouble voice, for those who know him, but in this case his tone falls somewhere between the two. ]

Obviously it depends on what they've done to make you angry, so let's talk about the full range. How long can I stay angry with someone for borrowing my sword without permission before I'm unreasonable?

Or what if they left everyone I cared about to die?

Just for discussion's sake.

Comments

[byblow]

What? [ Huffily insulted: ] That's not my fault.

[aforethought]

So did you leave them too, or what?

[byblow]

I was sent out of the way. King's request. If I'd known I wouldn't have... [ Scratch that, he doesn't know her. More brightly, equally self-hating: ] I did complain the whole time. It was very noble.

[aforethought]

Wait.

[ a beat — ]

The fuck're we talking about?

→ private

[byblow]

[ There's a frustrated sound, because holding his tongue isn't his greatest talent, but he did just finish telling Nathaniel all about how he wasn't naming names of inciting mobs.

So a moment later he switches to Fantasy PMs. The best of both worlds. ]

Ostagar.

1/2

[aforethought]

[ a snarled sound. she hangs up. ]

2/2

[aforethought]

[ LIKE TEN MINUTES LATER ]

Who's here?

[byblow]

[ There's a pause, taken aback, because he'd stopped wondering if she was going to say anything else and moved on with his life, by which I mean had resumed angrily brushing a horse. He can do that one-handed, though, and answer: ]

Loghain Mac Tir. [ A pause. ] You're Ferelden.

[ Obviously. What he means is: what is it, exactly, to you. ]

Itt Alistair strokes the one handed pony

[aforethought]

[ Careful, you'll go blind. ]

And I been trying so hard to sound Orlesian.

[ A hissed breath. It's a long list of people that Melys blames for most things, but blaming means thinking, and she's never cared to do that more than she could help on Ostagar. ]

Didn't figure he was still alive.

[ The general. Knew they hadn't chopped the fucker, pay as little attention as you can and you'll still hear a thing of two -- but he was old even then, wasnt he? ]

You really get sent off by the king?

oh my god and also I made a Ferelden/Fereldan error my life is over

[byblow]

I was sent off by my commander, [ is an important distinction, when lack of behoven-ness to various governments is an important part of why several Wardens are currently allowed to be alive, ] because the king thought we needed two Wardens to light a signal fire.

—I suppose we did. The tower had been overrun. But he didn't know that. [ More brightly: ] Personally I think he was creeped out by how much we looked alike, especially wearing helmets. Didn't want me where he could see.

Where were you?

well that's it you're disbarred

[aforethought]

Everyone looks th'bloody same in helmets. [ It’s not that she’s unaware of the kind of guilt someone might carry, surviving all that mess; it’s not that she can’t empathize. Mostly it's that she doesn't want to. ] Must've been why he was at the front; never gotta glance back.

[ Lighting the signal. That'd sure done a lot of good.

But then, that wasn't this sorry shit's doing, was it. Wasn't a half-stupid plan either, pulling back. She may not know much tactics, not the big kind officers push around on boards, but she knows this:

A lot of people died down there. A lot more might have.

Whether it stacks up any kind of even with what the Blight wrought — ? ]

Forward scouting. Pulled them back towards us.

[ And well, he’d know the rest. ]

Coming up again, ain't it.