closed / tall tales

[hornswoggle]

WHO: Gela, Viktor, Wysteria, Laurentius
WHAT: Propaganda, baby.
WHEN: What is time, really.
WHERE: Hinterlands, western Orlais.
NOTES: OOC Notes

Comments

[heirring]

"I wouldn't mind," she says, so promptly as to be entirely promising around the possibility that Viktor's curiosity may very soon be at least partially sated by a highly technical explanation. However—

"However, I only carry enough poison for myself. So if we were to be captured during our excursion, you must promise to me that you will find some alternate means of destroying yourself. Otherwise the Ambassador will be very displeased with me. Posthumously, I suppose. But it's the thought that counts."

She is all smiles as she says this.

[grindset]

She is all smiles, and Viktor is—despite all the time he's spent with Wysteria thus far and the gamut of little surprises that have sprung from her mouth like birds merrily leaving the roost—taken aback. Also faintly birdlike is the way his chin jerks in toward his neck. Not only is he absolutely not going to do that, even hypothetically, it can't possibly be expected of them—she's got to have conjured some funny romantic idea about it, he thinks.

But he wants to hear about the Something, so, easing out of his perturbed look,

"Ah... yes, of course."

[heirring]

If she notices this briefly appalled state of being, she makes no remark on it. But more likely that such looks are simply ordinary to Wysteria. Were she to investigate each time one appeared, there would hardly hours in the day left to accomplish anything else with.

"Very good," she declares, as if this is the answer she expected. "In that case, the prototype in question is a thing that creates wind and the expansion of air to create a sort of constant upward pressure. You can't use force enchantments to keep an airship up, obviously, as eventually you reach a position where there isn't anything substantial to push off of. So we must create something the exploits what is naturally there. Now, some time ago Riftwatch recovered a strange device from Orlais which the Venatori had been using to effect the weather there by generating a constant cold in the region. You of course need no more explanation as to how that would be useful."

Something something the thermodynamics of creating a current of hot and cold air.

"There is still some issue as to the scale of the thing, and obviously now that we have the device to power the concept, everything must now be tested extensively, but— well. I thought it was very clever, in any case."

[grindset]

"Artificial convection... that is clever."

Indeed, no explanation required. As Viktor's thoughts come spinning up his hand stills, poised in pre-gesture, then opens to movement.

"Multiple units positioned around the ship could enable precision control—for an aerostat, anyway. Plenty of room for improvement there. And that would of course depend upon the unit's size, as well as our ability to replicate the technology." His attention snaps from the middle distance of compulsive inspiration back to Wysteria herself. "Do you think it's possible? How much testing have you done so far?"

[heirring]

"Relatively little. But I'm confident in the work, and Mister Stark is supportive of the concept. Riftwatch may not be an entirely persuasive organization on all fronts, but I trust in its ability to persuade rich people to part with their money for novelty. And that's really what a great deal of this comes down to. Funding, I mean. To say nothing of the fact that I've yet to encounter a problem that Mister Stark and I couldn't solve with the correct amount of time and resources. Of which you yourself now are one," has the cheery air of a compliment by way of a joke rather than an insult, obviously.

She flashes Viktor a wide, unladylike grin.