open

[bouchonne]

WHO: Byerly and Kitty and thou or even you
WHAT: Open post!! open post
WHEN: The month of KINGSWAY
WHERE: EVERYWHERE but mostly in Kirkwall and in the Gallows
NOTES: Warning: chatterboxes

[ Starters in comments!! Feel free to tag in or start your own thread it's groovy ]

Comments

[elegiaque]

( gwenaëlle, who is certain she's never forgiven anyone, stares at him as if he's speaking an alien language. perhaps one from beyond a rift. )

[bouchonne]

[ Which draws a laugh from him. He grins, and shakes his head. ]

Dear heart. If you stopped trying to drown yourself in the sea, perhaps you would notice that the water was only waist-deep. - Shall we ride on? I weary of this view.

[ He kicks his mare into a jaunty trot. ]

[elegiaque]

( it drowned everyone i loved—

even in her own head it sounds like something he would only laugh at again. she stares furiously after him for not nearly long enough before she wheels poor beleaguered percy around to follow.

sulking. )

[bouchonne]

[ He fills the silence. Quite easily. He is chatty indeed when it suits him. ]

Ah, is that - ? That plant there. Is that blooming hawthorn? I can never remember whether that's pleasant when eaten, or whether it's poison. I expect that'll kill me someday. Do you ride this way often?

[elegiaque]

( curtly, )

No.

( it's been quite rare since the shift to kirkwall her to go out other than for the express purpose of reaching a destination; this is, probably, the first time it's ever happened. )

To Sundermount, sometimes.

[bouchonne]

Do you not ride for pleasure?

[ He blinks at her in mock-horror. ]

Dear lady. No wonder you've gone so pale and sickly-looking. Doesn't your lord husband see to your health? Make sure you take the air?

[elegiaque]

I don't know if you've noticed, but we are in Kirkwall.

[bouchonne]

And...?

[elegiaque]

And the pleasure of riding is in leaving Kirkwall.

( like, duh. )

[bouchonne]

Bilious lady of my heart, Kirkwall holds innumerable pleasures. Tell me - have you ever gambled?

[elegiaque]

( what an irritatingly, impolitely accurate description of her. )

You're mixing me up for my lord. Taller, more irresponsible.

[bouchonne]

[ He looks over at her, eyebrows raised. ]

Never? Not even once?

[elegiaque]

( relenting— )

Not for money.

[bouchonne]

Ah-hah.

[ Delighted - ]

What did you wager?

[elegiaque]

( without batting an eye; )

Sexual favours.

[bouchonne]

[ He laughs, delighted even further. ]

Good for you, my lady. Well. I can assure you that there is pleasure in the wagering of money, too. Would you like to try?

[elegiaque]

Not with my money, I wouldn't. ( blandly. the little harridan that she is, her eagle eye on the household accounts, tearing strips from emeric over his wasteful profligacy—

he had never wagered more than he could afford. she had never entirely agreed with his opinion of 'worth it'. )

[bouchonne]

Then wager with mine.

[ An absurd offer, given the patchwork and threadbare appearance of this fool. But he seems quite sincere. ]

[elegiaque]

I'll probably lose it, ( a light warning, but not actually a no. for all that she takes in the absurdity of it.

araceli would probably be disappointed in her if she said no. and she should get a hand in before she has to play cards with pirates, surely? )

[bouchonne]

I don't think so. I think you're a blessed soul. I think you'll have the best of fortune. Shall we go to a gambling den?

[elegiaque]

( this look is more measuring. measuring the likelihood this leads to having to leave somewhere quickly. it's not that she's certain he'd leave her behind, inconveniently hobbled by that fucking wyvern, it's just that she isn't certain he wouldn't. everyone would be terribly displeased if something happened to her, but it'd have already happened, probably.

on the other hand. )

I think you do a good impression of an optimist, but if you need to rid yourself of money that badly, by all means.

( this is a terrible idea. )

[bouchonne]

I am an optimist. A ray of utter sunshine. Come.

[ He pulls the horse around back towards the stables. ]

[elegiaque]

( this is a terrible idea, she thinks, again, but somehow that doesn't seem to mean she isn't going to do it, pushing persistence back up the path behind him. )

I need the practise, ( she says, possibly to byerly, possibly to her horse, ) if I'm not going to lose all my money to pirates at the first Naval Presence meeting.

[bouchonne]

[ And Byerly, speaking for the horse that appears to be Gwen's preferred conversational partner, neighs in response: ]

Deliiiightful!

[ And he pushes his mare into a canter. They haven't gone far, and so the return trip to the stables is easy enough; he turns the mare over to the groom with a firm clap on the shoulder in place of a gratuity (the groom looks slightly disgruntled) and then turns to Gwen to lift her down from her own horse. ]

Will you be able to walk to our den of sin? Or shall I carry you like the valiant hero I am?

[elegiaque]

I don't know that one arrives at a den of sin being carried. I think the aim is to be carried out, isn't it?

( though she does seem a little like she's testing her own weight as she finds her footing. the ache in her thigh is not insignificant, and though she's supposed to be exercising it some...

well, probably she'll manage. and there's always sending for guilfoyle, who has been obliged to carry her about the gallows whenever she tires of whiteknuckling it. )