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

[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.