faithlikeaseed | [IC/OOC] Fade Rift Inbox & Contact

[He'd been in the middle of a bit of spellwork when the call came--but he's quick to lay that aside once he realizes the identity of the caller. (He tells himself he'd do the same for anyone else; it's simple politeness, admixed with eagerness to hear back from the expedition. Nothing more than that. Nothing specific.)]

I hadn't intended to hold you to it, ser; that would've been an awfully optimistic estimate for your return trip. [...And from the way he catches his breath in surprise and a little alarm, he hadn't heard.]

No, I hadn't. What's happened? Are you--is everyone all right?

[He'd hoped, in the back of his mind, that someone else would have told Myr by now, though he doesn't know who would have when it's all so recent. He's sure the division heads know by now, or at least the ones who aren't already here, but now it falls to him to explain the details to someone who already sounds (sweetly, admirably) concerned, and Simon doesn't want to make it worse.]

Well...everyone with the Inquisition is, yes. [He sends up another silent prayer for the soul of that poor sailor, hauled off to a watery grave before anyone even realized what was happening.] But the water's not safe to traverse, and I don't know when it will be. There's...things in it that aren't too fond of us, as it turns out. [He thinks he can leave out the bit about the red lyrium. Myr doesn't need to know that part. Right?]

We're safe on the beach, never fret. We've got shelters set up and there's food and all of that. I just thought you should probably know what was happening, is all.

And there's nobody worth sparring with here, so it's a damned shame.

"Things," [he echoes, concern deepening. He's canny enough to know he's not being told everything, to guess at what that careful phrasing might hide. It isn't the first time he's heard as much from a templar either--nor the first time curiosity and worry have urged him to try for more information.] What sort of "things," exactly?

--Glad to hear you're sheltered and fed, though. I'll be a little less hasty about rousting out the rest of the Inquisition to rescue the lot of you if you're not in imminent danger of starving to death. [A joke, of course.] As much as I miss your company. [Not a joke.

But a grin creeps into his voice nevertheless at the next,] Are you teasing me, ser? You've got your pick of Grey Wardens and your fellow templars and Maker-knows-what-else and not a one of them is a worthwhile sparring partner?

Things I'd sure as hell never seen the like of. I don't know what to call them other than "sea monsters." [This is a lie; he's heard a few names being put to them--"kraken," "cetus"--and it isn't like him ever to try and sound less knowledgeable about a thing than he actually is, but he doesn't want to have to describe them, or think too hard about them.]

Should I have pretended we were running out of ship's biscuit, then? Apparently it would've gotten us rescued faster. [But it's enough, somehow, just to hear it said aloud that Myr misses his company. Even if it's a general "you"--but he doesn't think it is.]

Why would I want to spar with a Warden? Darkspawn-sniffing bastards are all too far up their own behinds to hold a sword. And the only other templar around is Norrington. [Norrington does not get the formality of a title when he's not within earshot.] No, it's awful slim pickings. I'll just save it up for when I'm back. I suppose you'll want to stay in practice, though...

[He makes that low incredulous noise that does him in place of a whistle.] Didn't manage to kill any of them, did you?

[Though he's getting the sneaking hint that perhaps that's a line of inquiry better left alone...] Yes, but too late for that now. You'll just have to while away a few extra days on a nice warm beach as you wait for help to arrive. It's an awful fate, I know, but the Maker will grant you strength to endure.

Even without any suitable sparring partners--what've you got against the Wardens, anyhow? [His tone is curious, not condemnatory, even though he's got to work to make it so.] --Mmh, well, I'm hardly drowning in sparring partners back here myself, but if it means I've got a chance to beat you when you get back all tanned [why is he thinking about that] and out-of-shape, I'll make do somehow.

[Long-suffering sigh.] It just won't be the same.

We held our own, aye. Not that it's doing us much good at the moment. But we rescued some more rifters--there's a pair of massive elves the size of qunari. [That, if anything, ought at least to distract Myr, if Simon knows his friend well.

He concedes the point about the idyllic setting and the weather with a smirk, even if it can't be seen.] Smartarse. Don't be jealous.

Anyway, I've nothing serious against Wardens. They just think so highly of themselves that they're not much fun. I'm sure I could find one who'd be a decent partner, in a pinch.

But it wouldn't be the same, no. I might have to put some real effort in. [It's meant solely in a fraternal sort of ribbing spirit, gentle trash-talking between friends, but he realizes only after the fact that it might strike too close to home with Myr, and he doesn't know how to rectify it without making it worse.]

--so...you'd best keep up the practice.

[Simon does know Myr well.] The size of qunari? You're having me on--elves don't get that big. What are they even feeding them on the other side of the Fade?

[Then he breathes out a huff of laughter.] Me? Jealous? Not ever. Simply missing the northern sunshine you're getting so much of.

Ah-- [He knows the spirit that's meant in. It's the kind of thing he'd said to the Hasmal templars in times past--the sort of banter all of Philomela's apprentices traded in the halcyon times before their Circle broke.

Before Myr wasn't one of them any longer.

He has to take a moment to hear it the way Simon meant it, not as his mind wants to twist it (~~no one would take you seriously in a fight and you're a fool for thinking so~~).] --Just for that I'm putting you on your ass when you get back here, Ser Ashlock.

[He manages to sound playful about it, at least. It's getting easier to do.]

[There's audible relief in the way he laughs at that, even if he's trying to hide it.] Go on and try, then. I suppose there is precedent. [His own ego isn't so important that he can't remind Myr earnestly of that. They've always felt evenly-matched, in their way. Even if it is Simon's job--more than a job; his entire raison d'etre--to be able to take a mage down instantly should he really need to, that doesn't need to come into play. Not like this; not between friends. Not even when Myr still calls him 'ser.']

I don't know what they're feeding them, but I want some. I've got a status to maintain. I can't be doing with elves twice my size. [Or anyone, for that matter.] In any case, I still think you're better off back in Kirkwall than here, and I'd trade you if I could, but I'll bring you back a souvenir if you like.

[I suppose there is precedent. Even if he'd been inclined to nurse the unintentional wound Simon's words had left, that would do for taking away some of the sting.] You wait and see. Even if you do get the secret of giant growth out of those enormous elves and end up of a size to wrestle dragons, I've got tricks at my disposal still.

[Knight-enchanters were known for bearding dragons in their lairs, after all. What's one extra-large shem compared to that? ~~Even an extra-large very distracting shem.~~] Come back in one piece, is all I ask--the lot of you, I mean, [hastily amended.] Though I'll be very put out if the rest of them make it back without you.

[.......He is making such a hash of this.] But if you find a weird seashell or something that looks promising, I'll take it.

Edited 2017-09-29 04:04 (UTC)

I'll bet you do. Can't wait to see them. [He worries momentarily that he'd sounded sarcastic when he's been going for more wry teasing, and worries half-consciously in the back of his mind that he'd sounded flirtatious. This is not a worry he could afford to bring to the forefront of his mind, and so it gets nowhere close.

But nonetheless, he doesn't know what to do with the faint little rush of adrenaline that comes from that heartfelt plea, nor the way it feels like a very small vacuum in his gut when Myr clarifies, nor the whiplash of that quick second amendment. He's quiet on the other end of the crystal for a moment, unsure what he trusts himself to say.]

Well, I'd--I'd hope so.

--All right. A weird seashell. Or if I can't find that, maybe some sort of nice tropical fruit. Though it might not be very appetizing by the time I get back, depending.

Make it worth my while and you will. [...Well. Whether or not Simon had intended to be flirtatious...

It's his turn to worry when Simon goes quiet, chewing at his lower lip and wondering if all of that was a step too far.

...But hasn't he hasn't been hung up on, so it seems like not.]

...If you could make it work--somebody out there's got to know enough frost magic they could keep a box of fruit cold. The right glyph would do it. Though I s'pose that's a waste of Inquisition resources. [Sigh.] Coconuts keep, though. Do they have coconuts?

[It's not so much that it's too far, only that he knows it shouldn't be making the back of his neck feel flushed and warm the way it is. How would he make it worth Myr's while? How would he even ask? Best, probably, to let it go and keep everything in the realm of propriety.]

You and your glyphs. [The tone is admiring. He isn't accustomed to knowing mages who can invent spells for practical purposes, making life easier for everyone.] Can they really do that? It's a moot point; there's nobody here who works them like you do, but for future reference...

I'll make it my mission to find you a coconut. What you do with it is up to you.

[Teasing,] And what about "me and my glyphs"? Ought I to say "you and your swordplay" in the same tone, ser? [He would, of course; he admires Simon's martial prowess very much. It's an admiration (he tells himself) he's got for all templars. Maybe it's a little stronger and more personal with Simon because they're friends and sparring partners, but only a little.]

They can indeed. If it's a small enough box it's not so difficult to use a very small glyph to keep it cold; do it right and it barely requires any attention to maintain. Though more usually you'd want to use a rune for that, so you can use your cold box over and over again without relying on a mage to keep it going.

Put it somewhere I can admire such a thoughtful gift until I've decided on eating it, probably. Though there's a lot of mischief you can get up to with a coconut.

Have you ever had one? Maybe I'll share.

I wouldn't mind if you did; I'm proud of the swordplay. [And he does do his best to show it off to Myr, in whatever ways he can without Myr's being able to see it. He tells himself he'd care just as much about anyone else's good opinion.]

I suppose I've never thought about all the little practical things magic can be used for. And we lived in the only places where anyone would've had the privilege. Seems almost a waste that we didn't do more with it in Ansburg.

But never mind that. You're going to have to elaborate on this. What kind of 'mischief' can you possibly do with a coconut?

You and your swordplay. [Equally admiring, perhaps a touch wistful; it would be nice to see the swordplay. (And the swordsman, much as he will not admit it.)]

A great waste. [His voice goes a little quieter; there's a certain tightness in his chest he's got to speak around.] Though there's a great deal of practical magic that gets out into the world thanks to the Formari. But it seems people are easier around magical things than they are mages.

[...This is not a topic he wants to dwell on. Not when he doesn't know how often he'll be able to talk to Simon in the coming days.

He'll talk about coconuts instead, and gladly.]

Lots. Starting with the whole fruit-- I could add a coconut tree to Sina's forest, [with ... several months of work], or lob it at someone. Or put an explosive glyph on it and then lob it at someone--like the Venatori.

There's a hundred things you can do with the insides and the shell if you open it up. The oil's useful for anything you might need a little grease for--and better-tasting than tallow, if you're greasing something you're minded to put in your mouth. [That could be construed innocently. Maybe. His tone certainly isn't suggestive.] Dry the fruit and grind it to a powder and you can really infuriate an alchemist by replacing anything whitish in their inventory.

Edited 2017-10-03 05:43 (UTC)

[IC/OOC] Fade Rift Inbox & Contact

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject