inbox.

[unshut]

(crystal | written | action)

Comments

[bouchonne]

Thank the Maker.

[ His smile back at her is rather conspiratorial. ]

You could make terrible trouble for us if you so chose, I suspect. - And I would never call you old.

[unshut]

And yet I am. I consider it one of my finest qualities, you know.

[Certainly a rare one. All things considered. She cheerfully pinches the back of his hand.]

But I wouldn't expect you to understand such a thing.

[bouchonne]

[ With a false simper: ]

Because I am so fresh and youthful?

[ He feels older every day. Thirty-six. ]

[unshut]

[The smile she gives him in reply is warm, though here there is some measure of reserve. Something like that, but consider more seriously—]

And because it is something like a matter of professional pride, and you and I have been employed very differently, I think. A bird doesn't appreciate what a fish does.

[bouchonne]

Which of us is the bird, in this case, and which the fish?

[unshut]

You know I can't stomach being on the water.

[She wrinkles her nose.]

Though come to think of it, I'm no lover of heights either. Perhaps a scorpion and a housecat would be a better analogy, hm? You do like to be scratched behind the ear.

[bouchonne]

Madame. I am shocked.

[ He shakes his head at her. ]

Here I am, a good Fereldan fellow, and you're not even tempted by dog?

[unshut]

Give my creativity some credit, Messere! [is all matching mock outrage.]

Anyway, you are far too nimble to be a hound. I'm afraid you must accept the offense to your patriotic sensibilities.

[bouchonne]

And insufficiently noble. I suppose a slinking creature of the night suits me well.

[ And, easily: ]

Better by far than scorpion suits you. Honestly.

[unshut]

[She hums, the line of her chin rising with her eyebrows.]

Do you have a better suggestion?

[bouchonne]

[ He hums as well. ]

A polecat.

[unshut]

I don't know that I've ever had the pleasure of meeting one. What are they like?

[bouchonne]

Fierce, clever, tidy, slender, and with the loveliest fur you've ever seen.

[unshut]

[Her laugh is a low approving chuckle - dark and warm like some tart spiced wine and very pleasant indeed in the crisp-bordering-on-cold night air as they make their way down the long face of the Gallows.]

I'm fairly certain there are as many opinions on your posting as there are members of Riftwatch. But you're very good at flattery, Byerly.

[bouchonne]

The secret of the art is to only ever say things that are true.

[unshut]

[She cheerfully pinches the back of his hand a second time.]

[bouchonne]

[ Laughing slightly - ]

I'm being serious! Flattery only works if you pick out something truly marvelous about the person. If it's a lie, they'll know it, and you'll have failed.

[unshut]

And so we see that my assessment was right all along. House cats being resourceful and clever as a rule.

[bouchonne]

And I would bring you a dead mouse or two in tribute if you wanted it. Or even if you didn't.

[unshut]

I have great affection for those lovely gloves you brought me once, [is good humored confirmation of this clearly indisputable fact.]

[bouchonne]

Made from the skins of many dead mice. That is true.

[unshut]

The stitching together of their tiny little pelts is impressively done. It's hardly noticeable at all unless you hold them up to a very strong light. I don't know how you accomplished it.

[bouchonne]

Blood magic.

https://i.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/mobile/000/030/781/kombuchaahh.jpg

[unshut]

[She snorts.]

My, if only the Chantry knew its applications were so flexible.

[bouchonne]

Well, there's so much to be done with it. That's the advantage of running with all these apostates and maleficarum and heathens. We're all so innovative.