DIPLOMACY WAR TABLE MISSION: BURN BOOK (CLOSED)

[hornswoggle]

WHO: Athessa, Marcoulf, Teren, Colin, Edgard
WHAT: disseminating information
WHEN: Early August
WHERE: Orlais
NOTES: war table ooc post

Comments

lightning storm!!!

[sulahnan]

I met a guy who said he got struck by lightning once--

[ They've doubled up on griffons so one person can fly while the other drops the cargo, and since Chawcey would've likely eaten half the pamphlets, Athessa isn't driving. ]

--He said it fucked him up, like he could only sleep during the day or somethin'.

[ She's biding time until they reach the target. ]

[esquive]

[Clipped into the griffon's double saddle in front of her, Marcoulf is presently doing his best to fix his attention past the heaving shoulder their mount, through the congealing storm clouds and down, down, down, toward the inky dark landscape below them rather than listening to Athessa at his shoulder. He's consoling himself with his choice of backseat griffon rider based entirely on the fact that he's in front of her and so the wind whips most of her conversation elsewhere. Likely Colin and Edgard on Sunbeam a half length behind and to the left are getting an earful as they work their way through the weather.]

Frightened of the dark is more likely.

[muckspout]

[The rain is pelting down and with a crack lightning makes it look like it is day for a split second. Edgard's legs are hanging on tight on the back of a griffon. He knows the griffon's name, Sunbeam, but can't quite recall the name of the man he's riding behind. He's leaning over the bag holding the pamphlets, trying to shield them from the storm and gives the griffon a couple pats. Water streams down his face and he spits it out every few seconds. He shouts over the wind.]

Sleeping during the day doesn't sound that fucked up. Avoid a lot of people that way. Not that I'm volunteering to be struck.

[keenly]

[The rain makes it hard to see. All Colin can think to do is keep moving. Normally he wouldn't speak, but they may all die very soon, so.]

Does it count if it's magical lightning?

[muckspout]

[Edgard pulls a face at Sunbeam’s owner that he can’t see and readjusts the bow on his shoulder. He spits water with a little more strength.]

Yes, it fucking counts.

[Sunbeam deserves better. He gives her another pat]

[sulahnan]

Well the guy I met just got hit by regular lightning.

[ Marcoulf can ignore her all he wants, see if she cares. ]

And it wasn't just the sleeping, he talked about how he could smell the weather changing, and said his hair would stand on end when he got close to anything metal!

[muckspout]

[Edgard leans forward to yell back]

Oh well, you didn’t say his hair got messy! Totally fucked, you’re right!

[His own hair, caked with mud, flies into his mouth as he shouts.]

[esquive]

[doneisdone]

[doneisdone]

[Teren, on Blanche, brings up the rear. The conversation is carried back to her on the wind, and she sees no need to interrupt.]

[keenly]

[Only Edgard will feel Colin shaking with laughter.]

[sulahnan]

You ever get struck by lightning, Edgard?

[ :^) ]

[esquive]

[—is followed by a sudden, ominous rumble of thunder rattling all about them. Between his knees and against his hand on her rein, Marcoulf can feel Supreme (first name redacted because it is ridiculous and clearly doesn't suit the big animal) sharpen in sympathy to it. The griffon's head rises, ripples passing through the close knit of feathers at her neck as if through a cat's bristling hackles.

He pats her automatically between her big working shoulders and calls back:]

I think I see light.

[A few miles at best, visible in snatches between storm clouds, there are pinpricks of orange resolving in against the blank black slate of the land far below them. The innumerable campfires of an army at rest.]

[muckspout]

[Edgard grips hard with his knees as Sunbeam and then Sunbeam's owner react to the noise around them. He tries to look down, but his vision is blurred by the rain.]

Good, about time!
[leans forward to Athessa]
And to answer your question, no.
[He pulls a smile, its horrible, water rivulets running in, his face mud-spattered.]

[sulahnan]

Coulda fooled me!

[ But there is light, she can see clearly with her Special Eyes, and she readies the cargo. One hand alights on Marcoulf's shoulder so he knows the next is for him: ]

On your signal.

[muckspout]

[Edgard harrumphs at the insinuation and runs one hand through his hair attempting to fix it while his other hand holds tight onto the bag with pamphlets. The hair hand comes back full of mud. He grips his hand into a fist and it creates a little ball.

The wheels turn in Edgard’s head. He looks forward at Sunbeam’s owner concentrated on his task and forward further still to Athessa and Marcoulf in front of him. The rain and haze make it tough to see, but maybe if he...

He leans forward nudging Sunbeam’s owner just slightly out of the way and his arm rockets back and forward again releasing the mud ball toward the pair in front of him and it goes flying, flying...]

[doneisdone]

Are you fucking joking, [from behind.]

[keenly]

[that's the thing about slinging mud while moving in the same direction: it lands in the face of the person directly in front of you.

Colin gives a strangled shout, losing balance on the griffon and nearly falling off. Sunbeam takes this as a sign that she should perform some evasive maneuvers and pivots sharply to the right, balancing Colin but breaking formation.]

[esquive]

[And, as flocking birds are wont to do, Blunder Supreme follows with a great heave of her wings and a sudden dip of the shoulder (and altitude) that pops both her riders up and out of the saddle as easily as shaking off flies.

The terrifying instant of weightlessness is snapped short by the harness jerking against where they're both hooked in (thank fuck), but does nothing to guarantee either Athessa or Marcoulf will stick the landing as they're dragged around by their proverbial apron strings. That he manages to keep a foot in one iron is all that saves him from toppling off over the griffon's side as she begins her downward spiral.]

[sulahnan]

[ Whatever yelp or swear she might have let out is lost to the wind at the same moment her ass hits the back of the saddle and she slides sideways, losing her grip on the satchel of pamphlets. It's only because of the topography of griffon, saddle, and leg that she manages to keep from flapping in the storm like a fucking kite. ]

THE FUCK—?! [ So much for a signal from Marcoulf; the bag is dangling from Blunder Supreme's claw, upside down and torn through. From this angle, scrabbling for a handhold on the saddle and ending up clutching at Marcoulf's ankle, the cascade of fluttering paper is almost pretty. ]

[muckspout]

[The mud ball flying backwards into Sunbeam’s owner’s face seems to go in slow motion as well as the pivot afterwards. Edgard is jostled and is unseated, but his legs tight around the animal prevent him from sliding all the way off. He rights himself easily then yelling leans towards Sunbeam’s Owner scrabbling at his face in an attempt to get the mud off, but only making it worse. He is not looking at the rest of the chaos ensuing, but sees the fluttering pamphlets and takes a break from the wiping to dump all of his. He screeches]

ACCIDENT! SHIT!!

[doneisdone]

[Blanche and Teren circle beneath, already prepared to catch anyone or anything that might fall from the clusterfuck happening above.]

Keep it together, you fools! [Her voice is an angry bark.]

[keenly]

[Colin brushes Edgard's fingers away from his face. The rain is taking care of it quickly--the mud trickles away down his chin and throat, leaving him only to swipe his eyes clear himself. Usually he's patient to a fault, but he can hear his own teeth squeak as they grind together.]

You have one job, [he says to his passenger.] Focus on that.

[muckspout]

[Edgard holds his hands up palms showing acquiescence and then makes a stink face at the back of Sunbeam's Owners' head. He blinks more rain and mud out of his eyes and sees pamphlets fluttering down, down.]

I think I did my one job. Maybe do yours and steer!

[Edgard looks to Marcoulf and Athessa barely hanging on, trying to figure out a way to help. Arrows will be useless because as he just learned, the wind is not your friend.]

[esquive]

[The paper can wait. More accurately, they're too far gone—spinning in pleasant whirlwinding directions, already too scattered to attempt any kind of recovery.

She has a vice grip at his ankle. He has a similar vice grip on the griffon where downy feathers begin to cede into thick grey fur. If it weren't for Athessa, he'd be sliding further forward as the griffon makes her spiraling descent away from a second louder clap of thunder. So thank Andraste's bleeding fucking heart for that hand keeping him in check—

Hilariously, it's a sudden fork of lighting that saves the pair of them from slipping any further. It startles the big animal and she suddenly veers back in the direction of Sunbeam, the change of momentum all but throwing Marcoulf back into the saddle. The minute he has his second iron, he is reaching with both hands to haul Athessa bodily back where she belongs.

It's a series of second, no longer. But in them, they've lost some significant altitude and the illumination of the weather is likely to have painted a very pretty picture of the whole formation against the pitch black storm clouds.]