WHO: Athessa, Madi, Lucien, Skull, and YOU!! WHAT: catch-all WHEN: mostly Satinalia and later WHERE: Kirkwall and The Gallows NOTES: post-murderhaus h/c is gonna go here
"I'll let ya know if anything changes and I gotta talk about it after all," she assures, "Maybe when I can talk through it without...feeling like I'm there, seeing those things."
She blows out a breath, doing her own survey of the cityscape.
"Wonder if anyone's bought that estate," she muses, then nudges her shoulder against Matty's. "Whaddya think an estate like that goes for?"
Not that either of them could afford it, but it can't hurt to think about, right?
He nods, first--and then true to his word, moves on. Which in this case means leaning his shoulder back against hers.
"Oh," which he says airily, with an extra effort to shift out of his country Free Marcher accent to sound more of Hightown, "fifty hundred thousand Sovereigns, milady, and not a coin less. And they'd have to be delivered in velvet bags, each one of 'em a different color. We'd have to invent new colors. That's what sort of thing us posh folk respect, right?"
She follows suit, taking on a far too lofty accent to be anything but a parody.
"Oh yes, indeed, nothing short of newly invented colors will earn our respect and interest, my good man," Athessa nods. "Fifty hundred thousand...hey, wouldn't that be five million Sovereigns?"
"Like I would bloody know," still said in his fake accent, as he sticks his nose in the air, "making my money into other money is someone else's job, serrah, not mine. I'm too busy, don't you know, buying up massive expansive mansions and then knocking 'em down for sport. And... racing horses. I expect that's something we do as well. As the elite and all."
"Yes, yes, racing horses and sending those long-legged dogs after hares and taking tea on the veranda, whatever that is."
If Matty is of a mind to keep up the silly talk until they've hopped off the ferry and onto the docks, then Athessa will play along, sticking her nose so high in the air that at times there's some risk of falling backwards, but mostly the ache in her shoulder curbs that.
"Right," she announces when they've reached the official end of Riftwatch territory and the official start of Lowtown proper. "Lead on, my good man. I haven't the foggiest where this place is."
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She blows out a breath, doing her own survey of the cityscape.
"Wonder if anyone's bought that estate," she muses, then nudges her shoulder against Matty's. "Whaddya think an estate like that goes for?"
Not that either of them could afford it, but it can't hurt to think about, right?
no subject
"Oh," which he says airily, with an extra effort to shift out of his country Free Marcher accent to sound more of Hightown, "fifty hundred thousand Sovereigns, milady, and not a coin less. And they'd have to be delivered in velvet bags, each one of 'em a different color. We'd have to invent new colors. That's what sort of thing us posh folk respect, right?"
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"Oh yes, indeed, nothing short of newly invented colors will earn our respect and interest, my good man," Athessa nods. "Fifty hundred thousand...hey, wouldn't that be five million Sovereigns?"
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no subject
If Matty is of a mind to keep up the silly talk until they've hopped off the ferry and onto the docks, then Athessa will play along, sticking her nose so high in the air that at times there's some risk of falling backwards, but mostly the ache in her shoulder curbs that.
"Right," she announces when they've reached the official end of Riftwatch territory and the official start of Lowtown proper. "Lead on, my good man. I haven't the foggiest where this place is."