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WHO: Tony Stark & Wysteria Poppell & Ellis
WHAT: Shop talk and self defense.
WHEN: Justinian (Nowish Catchall so I don't flood the comms)
WHERE: On the boat back from the jungle adventure; some might call this 'the Jungle Cruise'; Kirkwall
NOTES: N/A, will add if Wysteria throws Tony overboard or stabs the wrong training dummy.

TONY SPARK.

[Ordinarily, she has very little in the way of fondness for boats. Ships? She cannot even begin to fathom where the difference lies. But after days spent stumbling through the jungle, preceded by days being treated to the poor keeping of Venatori agents, she might find some charity in her heart for transport on a sufficiently wide board so long as it meant no further walking on her own two feet. Further, when relieved of the prospect of how they are getting where they are going and in what direction, exactly, where is, one finally has time to indulge in philosophical questions such as What must need doing upon our return?, or--

Well, there are lots of questions one might ask themselves under such circumstances. But that is by far the one which she prefers.

Hence her sudden appearance at his elbow (although to say it comes as a surprise would be to discredit Wysteria's propensity for charging about).]

Now then, Mr. Stark. Where were we?

MR. ELLIS.

I see no reason why we cannot simply do this in the back garden.

[She is referring, of course, to the dreary little courtyard with its planters and cracked old paving stones over which Ellis has been laboring to make slightly less overgrown and dreadfully unkempt alongside the house in Hightown. It is where their lessons have always taken place prior to this one.

True, there really isn't much room for wielding a bow and arrow in the garden and her neighbors already resent the new occupant of the mansion terribly; and true, that those tutoring sessions with swords or little knives or whatever you like had tended to devolve into her sitting on one of the planter walls, weeding the dirt and discussing books rather than doing much with sharp objects. But really, it hardly seems necessary to go to these lengths.

Meaning the Gallows practice yards, wherein Miss Wysteria Poppell looks rather out of place in her skirts. Nevermind that they are very recently late of adventuring through jungles, and there she wore very nearly the exact equivalent of what she has on today. There is something about being fresh faced, clean and well-pressed in breezy summer cottons and little leather boots with flowers stamped at the ankles which simply lends poorly to such an environment.]

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[Her attention lifts in turn, cutting a swift look over in his direction. The line of your brow is sometimes so very serious, she does not say.]

I hardly think we require the best guide. In fact I'm certain of it, and that together we might all muddle along quite successfully. And I think it would do Mr. Fitz some good to get away. He has been rearranging the library for days now with seemingly no progress whatsoever.

[ That draws a little laugh out of him. ]

He's managed admirably, I think. But maybe you're right.

[ In spite of broken shelving, and toppling piles of books. Ellis isn't going to say the ghost is set against them, but the ghost is probably set against them. He reaches to tap her fingers again. ]

Go on, draw it back and take the shot.

[ Which isn't much of an answer.

He's thinking again of what Alistair had said, and how going to Orzammar seems to narrow his chances of avoiding certain confessions down to nothing. Ellis takes a step back, rubbing a hand along the bristle at his jawline. ]

[It is a fine answer. It means that if she misses, she can simply argue that they never officially reached an agreement and so such a trip is hardly contingent on her accuracy with some ridiculous weapon that she has virtually no need for whatsoever (it wouldn't have helped, for example, in the Crossroads with the Venatori; not even Colin had been any good there).

And so she is very blasé indeed - shrugs, brings up the bow, draws back to her cheek, lets out a breath (she remembers that much) and looses the arrow all with very little pause or to-do.

The THWACK! of it drilling into the training dummy's face must come as a shock to everyone in the entire Gallows, Wysteria most certainly included.]

Oh!

[ It might have been absolute luck, but still, it's cause for some celebration. His surprise melts into a grin, as he grasps her hand over the grip. ]

That was well done!

[ Breathlessly sincere, because what else can he be but proud of her? ]

Very, very well done. Better than I could have managed, even.

[ Which is the truth. Ellis has never concerned himself with ranged weapons beyond the basics, enough to be of use if it was all that was left to him. ]

[The sound she makes is a distinctly unladylike bark of delight - a 'Ha!' that all but shouts, I'm going to find a way to drop this interesting fact into conversation with at least ten people today.' -, as her hand wagging triumphantly upward under his, and she declares,]

That is not at all where I meant to hit!

But it'll do!

[ Where—no, no. This will stand without question. ]

There, you see, [ He points down at the poor, assailed training dummy. ] That is a sure sign of natural talent.

[ He'll sell Wysteria on wielding a bow and arrow if it's the last thing he does. ]

Natural talent my eye! It was entirely luck!

[But the protest does very little to take the shine of her self congratulatory pleasure. And--] Here, allow me to prove it to you.

[--she is quite eager to shake free of him, fetch another arrow from the collection before them, and attempt to replicate the motions again. With a snap of the bowstring, the arrow whistles through the air and sails with all due grace fantastically high over the training dummy, thumping unceremoniously into the tight packed hay stacked behind them.]

[ That has Ellis laughing, because truly, what a way to hit all the highs and lows in the span of a few minutes? ]

Your luck will return, [ he says after a moment, still transparently pleased. ] Hold your fire while I go get those two arrows.

[ As if a fresh start will reset them back to the first lucky hit. ]

You had it, [ he calls back. ] And once that becomes second nature you'll be making shots like that every time.

Second nature seems like a rather high expectation, Mr. Ellis, [she shouts after him, pausing to peel back her sleeve and examine her forearm. That second shot has snapped against the inside of it with the bowstring, leaving behind a bright red patch of skin.

No matter.]

And I am well within my rights to refuse any further improvement without some guarantees.

Such as trips to Orzammar, [ Ellis concludes, turning with the arrows in his hands. As he treks back, he shakes his head over the sight of her reddened arm. ]

That was my mistake. I'll find you an arm guard to prevent it.

[ And maybe accessories will further encourage her.

But it isn't going to distract her in the moment, so he has to consider what's going to be done. What use is it to try and stall? They aren't going to be put off, and he doesn't have any reason to do so other than his own unease at mingling two aspects of his own life that have been kept relatively separate up until now. ]

Whatever we discover there, you need to understand that lyrium is dangerous, especially if it isn't handled properly. It's not like the chemical fires.

[ A reasonable objection, right? ]

[(It's a fair point, regarding the accessories. The novelty of strapping something to her arm might actually motivate her into a session or two of almost fully attentive practice.)]

Firstly, I will have you know that an alchemical fire could be very dangerous indeed if not properly controlled. [And saying so isn't a direct contradiction to earlier claims of 'It's perfectly fine!', as clearly she has been properly controlling all her flammable substances.

She takes the arrows smartly back from him, plunking one down into the stand quiver.]

Secondly, I am no fool Mr. Ellis and I do in fact have very little interest in going lyrium mad. I swear to you that I will treat any volatile and dangerous substances we might happen across in Orzammar with all due care. Misters Stark and Fitz will be held to the same oath, and I can draw up a most detailed handling guide to be certain that we are all of us well acquainted with the known dangers and consequences should any of us act irresponsibly. I will even consult Leander [first name alert] and the Seneschal to verify the specifics if you like.

[ The news that chemical fires might be more dangerous than he initially assessed shouldn't come as a surprise, and yet.

But rather than give in to the urge to argue the point of the chemical fires, he considers what Wysteria is actually promising. Leander?? ]

Who you involve outside of Tony and Fitz is up to you.

[ Though it is nice to know that Fitz is now involved enough to be included in plots. ]

You'd be better served discussing the specific dangers with a dwarf, but I'll accept your oath as it stands. [ Which means— ] We'll have to find transportation. I expect Tony's tired of traveling by cart.

[Is Sawbones qualified? Unlikely. But there are dwarves all over Kirkwall. She almost certainly can find someone to consult.]

And I already told Mr. Stark in no uncertain terms that I refused to walk there. However, I should think given his pull as a Project Lead, we may be able to devise some official Riftwatch business to see to in conjunction to our own which should allow enough capital to book passage and hire horses.

[She pauses then, looking up from the task of nocking another arrow. She squints at Ellis.]

Do you suppose either of them knows how to ride?

[ Hm. ]

Tony managed.

[ Caught between making promises Tony can't keep and rudely undercutting him. And Fitz is an unknown, so— ]

We'd be better served with a cart anyway. Between the three of you, there'll be plenty to transport. I can arrange it.

Excellent. Of course, cart or no cart, we'll need to book passage to Ferelden as well. I have no intention of traveling the whole length around it, as I would very much like to see Orzammar before I am one hundred years old and I have heard [she shoots him a sidelong glance in preparation of telling an extremely clever joke] that Orlais is currently occupied besides. So I will discuss the matter of dipping into project funds with Mr. Stark and see to arranging places on a packet ship which will take us, and our cart, and whatever animals which might be necessary to pull it with to Ferelden.

[Through all of this chattering, she has successfully nocked her new arrow, fussed with its placement along the string and how parallel the shaft is or isn't to the prospective line of her arm, and she is finally ready to attempt another shot. But first:]

Is that how you first came north, Mr. Ellis? Across the Waking Sea?

[ The prospect of traveling anywhere in Ferelden beyond directly to Orzammar and back makes it hard to draw breath. Or is it the consideration of travel coupled with the question? All in all, the combined effect of those two things means Wysteria doesn't get the obligatory chuckle for her joke.

Regardless, Ellis shakes the tremor out of his fingers, draws a breath as he takes a considerate step back and to Wysteria's right. A vote of confidence in her stance, perhaps. ]

Aye, I did.

[ Nailed it. ]

It was a long time ago.

How lovely.

[She is perfectly happy to allow him to not laugh at her jokes; let us be frank - she is quite used to not being humored for her unarguably fantastic wit. Besides, the point of her arrow has slid away from the length of the bow as she's righted it and she is now engaged with the task of tipping it back into place.]

It must be very exciting - this Warden business. When you aren't being engaged by a Blight, of course, which I have read all about and seems dreadful. But to think that you have been traveling for so long, and are even passing familiar with places as interesting as Orzammar. In a way, it seems such a romantic thing indeed.

[There. With a soft clack of wood on wood, everything is as it should be. She draws the bowstring and the arrow with it back to her cheek - reminds herself a the last minute consider where she is aiming instead of simply firing at random - and then looses it. The arrow sails high, high, gloriously high. It does not find its target.]

[ His hands open and close. As she fires, Ellis turns to watch the trajectory of the arrow, note where it splinters on the stone.

It gives him a moment, but it doesn't inspire him to any particular answer. The entire spill of thought is a minefield, one Ellis wants to navigate carefully so the tremor in his hands doesn't become something else. ]

There are times when it'll be wise to aim high like that. If you're aiming for something at a distance, for instance.

[ And then, more seriously— ]

It is not so romantic as you think. But it's necessary work. [ A little wry over that last sentence. ] Though I think you've done a fair amount of traveling yourself.

[She makes a low tsking noise - for the flight of the arrow, and not for his instruction - and draws another arrow from the stand so she might try once more.]

I suppose. But it really only since arriving in Thedas and so it is a very short period by comparison. At home, I had never so much as left the country, which is desperately tragic as I have heard such good things about— well, it hardly matters. Did you know, [she says, nocking the next arrow. It is always such a laborious process, isn't it?] that prior to my arriving here, I was finally just about to go traveling abroad? I was not packed for quite so distant or extended a trip, I must say.

[Well done, Ellis. You've successfully distracted her.]

[ Phew. ]

Have you thought about what you'll pack for the journey to Orzammar?

[ A dangerous question, considering the transportation they have available. But Ellis has seized upon a way to steering the question away from Wardens and he isn't looking back now. ]

Take a breath and hold it as you aim. It'll help keep you steady.

[ As he says this, he considers they are approaching the limits of his expertise. Is there someone adept at the use of a bow and arrow here? Can they be persuaded to assist Wysteria? All important questions. ]

[She has not, in fact, given it any thought whatsoever. But from the intake of breath, she is willing to discuss it at length regardless.]

Oh, I expect to very travel light. I cannot imagine I will require more than a half dozen dresses, and will make due with a single hat given that much of the trip will of course be underground. And there will be some tools from the workshop which will need to come along, but I fully expect—

[She chatters on without hesitation, and only stops her recitation for the sake of leveling and drawing back the bow. Does she follow instruction to hold that breath, or is she simply out of it? Who can say definitely. Either way, this time when the arrow is loosed it sails down the lane and strikes the target. It is not a good shot by any means, but it is a hit. And that must count for something.]

[ It counts for something, Ellis has decided. Maybe because he's decided to count any positive steps. He points at her, frown lifting from his face as quiet satisfaction settles in. ]

Now that was much better.

[ Should he or should he not comment on her hat choices?

No. ]

You'll bring the shield I got you?

[ Just add to the luggage, don't subtract. ]

[Pleased - either with the chance improvement of her aim or with the praise, no one shall ever know which -, she begins the gruelling process of nocking another arrow.]

Well yes of course. I usually do, do I not?

[It makes a most excellent field desk.]

[ The fact that she's only had to use it as a field desk is extremely comforting. ]

Aye, but I like to be sure.

[ As he steps forward to try and correct the position of her hands himself, gently adjusting the grip of her fingers on the bow. ]

Though we could always get you another while we're there. Or perhaps a set of knives.

[ Keep dreaming, Ellis. ]

[She tolerates the intervention; what does she know about archery? It cannot hurt to be corrected on a thing she has so little opinion on. She has more than enough thoughts on the latter subject to carry her through.]

Really, Mr. Ellis. Two shields, a bow and arrows, and now knives. As you seem to wish to transform me to into a walking armory, will you next suggest I don a spare set of plate armor?

[You fussy mother hen.]

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