[ of all the places for skull to be, a high shelf is...well...a high point of his existence. though he prefers a window, of course. who wouldn't prefer a window to the antiscenic views of stone, stone, more stone, another jar, more stone, a cobweb, a walking mud pile, a spider—
hang on. ]
EITHER I'M FINALLY GOING MAD, OR THAT'S EDDY! OI! EDDY! YOO-HOO, UP HERE, YOU CLOD!
[Edgard finds himself in a room he didn’t recognize (easy to happen when you don’t know your way around). He sees a shelf full of weird pickled objects he can’t identify and squats down to look at them when a distantly familiar voice screams at him.
Ears ringing, he looks up and into the not eyes of Skull]
YOU! Where did you come from? Where did you go? It’s been years!
[a pause in which Edgard stands up to get a look at Skull, smiling wide]
IT HAS BEEN YEARS, AND YOU STILL HAVEN'T LEARNED HOW TO BATHE!
[ the jar is the same, if cleaner now that people are constantly handling it. and the skull is the same chattering nuisance with clickety clacking bones inside a viscous liquid the color of lime jello. ]
ME? OH, I'M PEACHY. SAME AS ALWAYS. TAKES MORE THAN A STINT ON A QUNARI DREADNOUGHT TO FLUSTER ME!
They’re for eating?? All of them? Even— [He pulls out a very dusty jar with brownish-black liquid of which the contents are mysterious. Maybe it’s a very old pickle, maybe it’s a finger, maybe something worse.] —this one?
I wouldn't eat you. I can't imagine you'd be very delicious anyway. Do you live here? Or did you just... [looks around for some indication as to how he might have gotten in this room] ...drop in?
Stop it from happening again, I guess? [To help? To not be utterly useless? Edgard brushes it off.] What are you usually up to here, anyway? Do they just come get you when they need some, eh [skeptically] diplomacy?
I GET AROUND. SOMETIMES I TRANSLATE DOCUMENTS FOR MISS POPPELL. MOSTLY I AM THE VICTIM OF CRUEL WHIMS, BEING LEFT IN THE ROOKERY OR THE LOO, OR USED AS A PAPERWEIGHT.
[ Or buried under papers in the Seneschal's office. ]
ONCE I WAS USED TO BLUDGEON A RED TEMPLAR TO DEATH.
edgard.
hang on. ]
EITHER I'M FINALLY GOING MAD, OR THAT'S EDDY! OI! EDDY! YOO-HOO, UP HERE, YOU CLOD!
Re: edgard.
Ears ringing, he looks up and into the not eyes of Skull]
YOU! Where did you come from? Where did you go? It’s been years!
[a pause in which Edgard stands up to get a look at Skull, smiling wide]
How are you?
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IT HAS BEEN YEARS, AND YOU STILL HAVEN'T LEARNED HOW TO BATHE!
[ the jar is the same, if cleaner now that people are constantly handling it. and the skull is the same chattering nuisance with clickety clacking bones inside a viscous liquid the color of lime jello. ]
ME? OH, I'M PEACHY. SAME AS ALWAYS. TAKES MORE THAN A STINT ON A QUNARI DREADNOUGHT TO FLUSTER ME!
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Qunari dreadnought, huh?
[points to the other jars on the shelf]
Any of them talk too? Are they your friends?
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THEY'RE PICKLES, EDDY.
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They’re for eating?? All of them? Even— [He pulls out a very dusty jar with brownish-black liquid of which the contents are mysterious. Maybe it’s a very old pickle, maybe it’s a finger, maybe something worse.] —this one?
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[ he swivels, looking at the jar next to him. that one might actually be edible, but who knows? ]
A PICKLE ISN'T ALWAYS FOOD, EDDY.
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Are you a pickle?
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[ he swivels back to face edgard, somehow looking dubious even without a facial expression. ]
DON'T GET ANY IDEAS, EDDY. I DON'T WANT THAT MOUTH OF YOURS ANYWHERE NEAR MY GLASS!
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I wouldn't eat you. I can't imagine you'd be very delicious anyway. Do you live here? Or did you just... [looks around for some indication as to how he might have gotten in this room] ...drop in?
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I DON'T LIVE ON THIS SHELF IF THAT'S WHAT YOU MEAN. DON'T YOU KNOW, I'M THE HEAD OF DIPLOMACY HERE!
[ If he had a chest, it'd be puffed. ]
THE UNDERLINGS LIKE TO MISPLACE ME AS A JAPE, A LAUGH, A SILLY DIVERSION FROM THEIR DREARY, HUM-DRUM LIVES. WHY ARE YOU HERE?
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Well, you are a head, but I think diplomatic may be a strong word for you.
[Hesitant]
As for me....some people died--friends. I came here to do something about it, but [shrugging] mostly I've been wandering around.
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TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT? LIKE WHAT?
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Stop it from happening again, I guess? [To help? To not be utterly useless? Edgard brushes it off.] What are you usually up to here, anyway? Do they just come get you when they need some, eh [skeptically] diplomacy?
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[ Or buried under papers in the Seneschal's office. ]
ONCE I WAS USED TO BLUDGEON A RED TEMPLAR TO DEATH.
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A red Templar! You are an excellent weapon as I recall.
[Edgard leans in, voice lowering.]
What can you tell me about the people here? Any advice?
[Maybe asking Skull’s opinion is not his best option, but Edgard’s options are limited.]
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THE PEOPLE HERE ARE ALL FOOLS, EDDY. YOU'LL FIT IN WITHOUT EVEN TRYING.
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I'm not a--
[Edgard leans his head to the side thinking and shrugs]
I'm less foolish than I was.
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It was better than the alternatives! You're hanging out with fools, too!
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Va te faire foutre!
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