CLOSED | if being strong's your kind,

[murderbaby]

WHO: Vanadi, Athessa, Mhavos.
WHAT: stupid elf drama.
WHEN: post-the post-murderhaus log.
WHERE: Somewhere in Lowtown
NOTES: Emotional and romantic drama is the point of a fantasy wargame.

There is a reason Mhavos generally avoids any communal drinking activity, and it's rather obvious: he doesn't drink, and doesn't commune. He doesn't loathe them. He just doesn't feel comfortable at them, and however well they go, he's happy to be rid of them.

Anyway, he's been nervous all night, because... well, because he doesn't want to hurt anyone. Walking out onto the street, he makes a few quick strides to catch up with Athessa, hoping Vanadi, nearby, is out of earshot.

"I-... need to speak with you. It's of... well, of some import." Yet he's staring directly at Vanadi's back. What an utter master of subtlety.

Comments

[highborn]

He looks from one to the other, eyebrows arched expectantly, and sighs when he realizes no help is coming. "This is distinctly unfair," he mutters. And then accusingly, to Athessa, "How much Orlesian do you know?"

[sulahnan]

She offers a helpless shrug and a moue of regret, then turns around to be able to see where she's going.

"Only a little."

[murderbaby]

"Un peu," Mhavos reaches up to pat Vanadi's shoulder consolingly. "Absolument."

[highborn]

He sighs at Athessa, who has clearly thrown him to the wolves, and delivers a flat look to Mhavos that nearly borders on glare. He doesn't quite have the energy for a full glare.

Then he stands himself a little straighter, squares his shoulders, and delivers a scolding-sounding diatribe in a flowing and graceful language that's never been spoken in Thedas. It's a full-on rambling monologue as he stalks after Athessa, gesticulating and emphasizing frequently.

[sulahnan]

He nearly stalks into Athessa, who slowed nearly to a stop to turn and boggle at him, then had to hop-skip a few steps onward to avoid both being collided with and colliding with a storage barrel on the side of the street.

"What is that?"

[murderbaby]

"An inspired monolog from a talented performer." Golf claps. "I'm very impressed."

[highborn]

He sweeps into a quick but tidy bow, adds one more quick, "Obrigado, obrigado," and gives up the prickly-offended tension in his shoulders. It was just half-hearted, anyway. For Athessa, he adds, "Aluthsan. A perfectly useless language at this point."

[sulahnan]

"Actually," Athessa draws out the word, giving it some thought. "If you'd be willing to teach enough of it to the Scouting Division for us to use it on missions..."

They could communicate without anyone else in Thedas being able to understand them.

[murderbaby]

"Clever," Mhavos says, as though he's not quietly fantasizing about learning the language already.

[highborn]

"Oh," he says, because that is clever, but largely because he pictures the absolute outrage his parents would've had to restrain at the thought of their delicate and courtly language being used probably brokenly, and in such rough situations. He grins. "I would very much be willing. So long as I would be permitted to teach everyone only the barest basics of grammar, to have us all sounding like idiots. I'd like that."

[sulahnan]

"Um...okay, not that any of us will be able to tell otherwise. But why?"

[murderbaby]

Mhavos waits for the answer as well, eyebrows up.

[highborn]

He says, with much poise and dignity, "My parents would have hated it, to see their culture tarnished. They'll never know it, but it's a metaphorical bag of dog shit on their stoop."

[sulahnan]

Athessa chuckles and shakes her head.

"Okay, sure. If you want it to be a long-distance fuck you to mum n' dad, I'm fine with that."

[murderbaby]

Two orphans and a man who hates his parents walk out of a bar...

Mhavos considers this while weighing the options on asking for the entire language-- he prickles at the idea of sounding the fool-- but now is not the time. Later, maybe.

Anyway, ostensibly, matters of Scouting don't apply to him. He soldiers onward. "All very droll," he says, "but Athessa, friend, where are we going?"

[highborn]

That's just what it is, thanks Athessa. He trails after feeling a bit pleased with the idea, but also, yes please, where the heck are they headed?

[sulahnan]

She scoffs. "Where d'you think?"

--

Smash cut to: INT. ATHESSA'S ROOM - CONT.

The fire is roaring in the hearth, a bottle of mead has been opened and three glasses poured, a fat blunt rolled and lit to be shared between Athessa, Mhavos, and Vanadi, and they've got a deck of cards for playing, quite unfairly, Wicked Grace.

Athessa passes the blunt to Vanadi, then discards a low-ranking card (she hopes) and draws another.

"After we lose, can we play something easy? Like Snap or something?"

[murderbaby]

Mhavos, abstaining from smoke and (mostly) drink so he can do quiet card tricks with his hands. He told Vanadi he could.

"What is Snap?"

[highborn]

Vanadi is very happily abstaining from neither, which makes card tricks even more impressive. He's doing his best to follow the rules of Wicked Grace, but being a strategic genius is probably not in the cards (get it) tonight.

"Does it involve stripping?" asked hopefully, because he must, even if he knows it's not that type of friendly gathering. A man can dream.

[sulahnan]

"I've never heard of anyone playing strip Snap, but you'd be the man to figure it out."

Athessa's only recently learned to play Wicked Grace, and though she's being taught by the incomparable Bastien and Lexie, she's never won a single game. Her primary tactic after trying to remember the rules is to discard based on the art she likes the least.

"It's a game of speed, not smarts, and the goal is to hold all the cards."

[murderbaby]

Mhavos considers this carefully.

"If it can be played so quickly, why not have Vanadi lose clothing every time we beat him."

[highborn]

Vanadi considers this and, ever the good sport (particularly with alcohol and elfroot in him), says with a pluck at the lapel of his vest, "I am wearing quite a few layers."

[sulahnan]

Athessa also considers this, with a conspiratorial glance toward Mhavos. What are the chances that they can both win enough to ensure that Vanadi has to strip down? Fairly good, she thinks.

"Alright, then. Strip Snap it is, after we finish this game."

[murderbaby]

Mhavos shrugs. Strip Snap seems infinitely more interesting than mugging over hands. He lays his down while returning Athessa's conspiratorial glance. "I fold."

[highborn]

In his book, any game is worth a forfeit if there are interesting and sexier things on the horizon. He doesn't spend much time considering it; his cards go down.

"Athessa's win, then! Well played."