heaven, a gateway, a hope

[byblow]

WHO: Grey Wardens & You
WHAT: A daring and not at all ragtag group of Grey Wardens has walked all the way across Orlais to inform the Inquisition--just in case it hadn't already realized on its own--that everything is terrible.
WHEN: Harvestmere 22
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: This post has: (1) A single group "we just got here, we're freezing, who is in charge, what do you mean you haven't decided yet" starter that we'd like to keep to one chronological thread. (2) Open starters for individual Wardens set later in the day/week.

OOC Note: Regarding the first starter--threadjack away! Anyone is welcome to wander onto the scene to see what's going on and wander back out at their leisure, to fall silent for a while, etc. No tagging order. But let slower taggers get a word in edgewise!

Comments

[rathercommon]

After a moment, she admits, "You're all right, too. Even if you get yourself way too twisted up in metaphors. I mean, really, that all sounds awfully poetic, doesn't it, but in the end we're saying the exact same thing. I'm just saying it less prettily but also in about a quarter of the time. And without the horrible overtones of frivolity."

And then she considers, drying her hands off on her apron. He's not an idiot, is he? And, more to the point, he's not...arrogant. Or stupid. Or wicked. You have to be careful of Wardens. Sometimes they're good people, forced into service, and sometimes they're the worst ones possible, monstrous folk who have been shuffled off to die fighting monsters. Like her Legion of the Dead. But this pretty, loquacious man - he's all right.

And so Kitty says, her manner a little quieter still, "If you are going to - flirt with her, or whatever - be kind. She's had a bad go of it. Since the war started. She doesn't say much about it, but she says enough."

[bunko]

Her clipped response makes him laugh. "No--but you said it's not a game, and I said it is. How are those the same?" And, more to the point--he taps his index finger against the bartop, a quiet noise to catch the attention-- "Words are important. Pretty words most of all. For instance--"

And, finally, Scipio leans back away from Kitty, hooking his fingers around the handle of his mug to pull it with him. He's back to eyeing Drea, who is polishing the same glass, so intently she might have worn a hole into its side by now.

"It's pretty words I'll use for Drea. I know how to be kind, and distracting. And frivolous," and he repeats her with amusement, curls the word around his tongue, "but frivolous, that's what people need. Even you. Even if you will tell me it isn't so. So--" He touches his chest with his fingertips, tips his gaze toward Kitty again. "Until later, I think."