Hot or Not

[sulahnan]

WHO: Athessa & Wysteria, walk-ins welcome
WHAT: Ranking the hotness of their coworkers
WHEN: Now, during mod-plot
WHERE: Orlais
NOTES: keepin' it light and spammy

[ Well, what else are ya supposed to do when scrubbing sigils off of walls? ]

I mean I guess he could be cute...if he changed his hair.

Comments

[sulahnan]

Don't forget, he has great hair, too.

[ And she thinks of him like a brother, which doesn't make this weird at all. ]

He's...reserved. Shy. But compassionate.

[radicans]

[ Speaking of reserved, Maud clearly hesitates before chiming in. ]

He seemed dedicated to his work, in the little I saw of him.

[heirring]

[Her hum is very skeptical indeed.]

I really couldn't say one way or another. He seems to have very little time for Rifters. So there, already having a third opinion proves itself useful.

[sulahnan]

I don't think it's that he doesn't have time for Rifters, specifically, just...time for people in general. I have to strong-arm him out of his apartment most of the time.

[radicans]

[ Maud's hum is not quite as disapproving as Wysteria's, but a bit uncertain. ]

I imagine that sort of thing costs him charm points?

[heirring]

Most assuredly. It is far too difficult to romance a man who refuses to leave his apartments. I certainly don't have the patience for it.

[Wysteria dunks her brush into the water, flicks the excess free with a now expert turn of the wrist, and then resumes scrubbing the definitely blood sigil on one of the walls.]

[sulahnan]

[ Athessa shrugs, fetching up her own brush with similar aplomb. ]

That's fair. I'm not romancing him, so it doesn't bother me too much.

[radicans]

[ Maud rolls up her sleeves and collects the third brush, nose wrinkling briefly as she begins to scrub and sees that they were not joking about it being blood on the wall. ]

That seems to have settled that question, then.

[heirring]

So it has. Which brings us [she says, leaning hard on the bristles of her brush to work out a particularly dark stain] to Enchanter Pavus. If I recall correctly, his first name is Dorian.

[Maud, you're really in it now.]

[sulahnan]

Oh, he's so handsome.

[ scrub scrub ]

[radicans]

[ Maud's head turns to observe the two of them sidelong both literally and in spirit. ]

Is this a list?

[heirring]

[Wysteria's staccato beat of scrub-scrub-scrub doesn't waiver. They don't yet know eachother quite well enough for her to recognize that look in just the tone of her voice.

(Don't worry, Maud; they'll get there.)]

A comprehensive one, yes. And I would agree with you, Athessa, but I cannot take the man seriously with that particular arrangement of facial hair. He should consider doing away with it.

[sulahnan]

[ Athessa scoffs, mildly incredulous. ]

Wh- But it's practically the same mustache as that Chevalier has!

[ Make up your mind, Wysteria! Is it a good mustache or isn't it? ]

[radicans]

Their mustaches are very similar in style, if I am thinking of the right men.

[ Maud digs in the front of the brush against a stubborn clump(? clot???) and makes sure to follow that suggestion about keeping her mouth shut. So she has to pause to ask ]

What is this list in aid of? Are you in search of a husband, Wysteria?

[heirring]

[They are completely different mustaches, is very much the look she slings in both their directions, utterly bewildered how anyone single person (much less two!) could make such a mistake.]

No. —Well yes, of course. At this rate, I think I shall die without being married. But no, the list is purely for our amusement. And to illustrate, perhaps, the truly dire straights of Riftwatch's ranks.

I will give you that many individuals in the Gallows are perfectly well in appearance, but as to the question of true eligibility? Well.

[Well.]

[sulahnan]

Proud to be numbered among the ineligible, [ Athessa says, amused, then returns to the topic of Wysteria's husband. ] I'm sure you could have your pick of husbands, even beyond our ranks.

Actually. [ Thoughtful, as she wets her brush again and works a stubborn clot out of the bristles. ] That might be a good way to gain influence that you can use in the war.

[radicans]

[ Maud remains politely silent in response to most of this, focus firmly on her scrubbing, putting her back into rubbing away some sort of ugly angular rune. ]

What would you require for true eligibility? [ she asks after a moment or two ] Perhaps knowing the criteria may suggest an answer.

[exequy]

[ Let's say that the arrangement of the area and the sound of the scrubbing makes it plausible for someone who's a relatively quiet walker (thanks, years of sneaking around Circles to get laid) to have come close enough still unnoticed to have overheard enough of the conversation for that person (Kostos) to have enough context to say: ]

A fucking enormous amount of patience.

[sarcophage]

[Coming up alongside Kostos, wearing the usual feline confidence:]

Hmm, fair point. Have you enough patience to survive any of the men among us, Miss Poppell? [With a shallow incline,] Ladies, good afternoon.

[heirring]

[If a pointed look is shot in Athessa's direction, it is flashed en route to swiftly transforming into some purposeful attempted at unaffected and is punctuated with the judicious unhooking of her skirt's hem from her broad belt (goodbye, to that flash of blue stocking) so as to be practically (hm) invisible.]

Good afternoon, gentlemen. Passing through, I hope? If they've sent five people to scrub walls, we may need to reevaluate more than just the organization's fitness for marriage.

Have you been acquainted with Miss Van Klerk yet?

[is not throwing the young lady in question under the oncoming carriage to distract from other subjects. It is polite.]

[sulahnan]

[ Athessa simply reapplies scrub brush to sigil, shaking her head and laughing quietly to herself at the timing and the look and all. ]

[radicans]

[ Maud observes the look with a brief furrowing of brows and then sets down her brush and turns a polite smile on the unfamiliar bantering gentlemen. ]

No, we haven't yet had the pleasure. Good afternoon to you both.

[exequy]

[ Kostos tips his chin at Miss Van Klerk, rather than ignoring her, because he's not a complete boor. ]

Kostos.

[ But that's the extent of it, before he's stepping closer to Athessa to say, ]

Did you have the map last? We need—what are you laughing about?

[sulahnan]

Nothing, just remembering something.

[ She steps back from the wall and half-turns towards him, holding her suds-and-diluted-blood soaked hands away so as not to drip anywhere that matters. ]

Map's in my pocket.

[sarcophage]

Leander, [by way of introduction.

He then knocks his knuckles against Kostos's upper arm to stir him out of whatever argument he's thinking of having, jerks his head, Let's go.]

Well, we'd best be getting on. Ladies, enjoy your work. A pleasure to meet you, Miss van Klerk.