hungry for the kill

[molineux]

WHO: Margaery Tyrell & you! c:
WHAT: random dailies. pls come bug her.
WHEN: mostly Harvestmere.
WHERE: Gallows.
NOTES: lmk if you'd like something custom!

Despite Margaery’s recent development with Gwenaëlle, she can still be found around the Gallows frequently, from charming the smithy into teaching her out to best sharpen her dagger to being on the training grounds learning how to best use it. She’s come a long way from her first session, but her movements are still too graceful to be properly aggressive, and anyone who offers to help her train will find it’s easy to catch a foot and ‘help’ her tumble to the ground.

When she’s not getting her ass kicked, Margaery’s often seated somewhere in the courtyard, which makes for an excellent position to work on her embroidery and people-watch at the same time - but if she desires more privacy, the herb garden is also a good bet. Those who stop by the apothecary might also be able to see her perusing the shelves for her beauty routine purposes - and get a tip or two if they desire to ask.

Speaking of routines: if there’s anything Margaery’s particularly religious about, it’s her baths. Like clockwork, she can be found carrying buckets of water up to her room at dusk - still looking regal as hell while she does it with her straight-backed posture and all - and with a focused energy that speaks volumes of how far she’s willing to go to get properly clean. Those who wish to have a conversation at this time may find themselves also forced to follow her exercise, as she’ll only stop her process for emergencies.

Comments

[icasm]

"Ah." He nods, once. "That's understandable." And tells him a lot, actually. That she's from a court, one where her representation of power was far from total, if she had to concern herself with opportunistic help.

Still, he puts his hands behind the small of his back as she speaks, rocking forward on his heels. "People? Rarely, especially humans. My father's people are often taller, yet I would be considered a runt more or less due to my size." He inclines his head in a bit of a shrug. "But my adopted family is also full of tall-for-humans sort of people, so perhaps it is just Midgardians where the shortness of stature is more common." He smiles. "I take it where you're from, more are a little shorter than I?"

[molineux]

There's no hiding the surprise that slowly overtakes her face at his explanation, for when she carefully picks her way through the implications, Margaery looks even more awed.

"You're... not human?"

Perhaps it's her naivete still lurking about, making her subconsciously assume that every non-human will have some sort of indicator on their person; Loxley and his horns, Astarion and his ears.

"Ah, where I'm from, height is for those who seem to be touched by the gods. We had stories of actual giants in the freezing north, beyond our borders, but so many scoffed at those claims that I could not tell you with certainty if they truly existed. But perhaps your height stands out to me because I'm accustomed to seeing men of your stature with armor, carrying intimidation as a second skin."

But she's quick to add, "I much prefer your countenance, sir. Speaking to you comes easily - and I feel safe."

[icasm]

"I wasn't human, before arriving here." He shrugs, a little; an incline of his head, the bowing of his shoulders in towards her direction. "Now, it is a bit of a different story."

Because Thedas plays by its own rules, apparently.

"I am in possession of armor, if wearing such would be more familiar for you." But he smiles at her mention of her preferences. Good. He likes to be easy to talk to, and all things considered, even if she's only saying she feels safe he'd still rather than than its opposite. "That said, I'd be interested in more stories about the reported Frost Giants of your world, if you don't mind sharing them."