Alistair (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bringspeopletogether) wrote2016-05-17 10:44 pm
bringspeopletogether) wrote2016-05-17 10:44 pm
[oom] Denerim
For the most part, Alistair's kept the little Trollian device secreted away in a locked chest. Before he hid it, he tested it to confirm it still worked inside the palace, fiddling with the buttons some more until he stopped turning it off whenever he meant to send a message. (Someone, somewhere, probably got very sick of seeing quondamGryphon sign on and off for thirty minutes straight.)
After that, his nightly routine gains a few extra steps: go to his room, lock the door, unlock the chest, blow out any candles, and curl up in his bed with the device in hand. Most nights, he doesn't send any messages; all he does is watch the flicker of names appearing and disappearing, the screen's soft glow providing the room's only illumination.
It doesn't feel so lonely when he does that. Just knowing he can talk to someone -- even if he doesn't end up pressing a single button the whole night -- eases a little of the pressure in his chest.
The instructions mentioned the device is a quasi-living thing. Maybe that's why the changes start: living things grow. All Alistair knows is sometime around the second week of his new routine, he pulls out the device, feels a smooth lump on its back that wasn't there before, and, with a frown, turns it over to investigate.
It looks a bit like the clear bubble holding the device's "food." It's smaller, though; it doesn't squish when Alistair prods it with a fingernail. It feels like a pearl, almost, embedded into the device's shell like a jewel stuck in a crown.
And there's a new button on the front when he flips it back over: red, printed with a circle inside a rectangle. Frown deepening, Alistair presses it.
The screen turns to glass.
Or that's what it looks like, anyway. All of a sudden, Alistair can see his knees, the floor, a bit of the chest -- hastily, swearing under his breath, he stabs the button again in the hope it'll undo whatever he just did. It doesn't. Instead, the image of his knees freezes in place, and a message pops up over top of it.
SAVE IMAGE? Y/N
What.
y, types Alistair after a long moment's pause.
NAME IMAGE: ______.jpg
...y?, types Alistair again.
IMAGE SAVED: y?.jpg
"All right, what in Andraste's name just happened," he mutters as he stares at the screen. Gingerly, he positions his finger above the new button, raises the device, and presses it again.
Click.
Huh.
Click. Click.
All right, whatever this is, it's...kind of fun.
Click-click-click --
Actually, it's downright remarkable, look what it's doing, it's -- it's painting little pictures --
CURRENT quondamGryphon [CQG] has invited amaranthineIdeopraxist to join private transtimeline bulletin board THEDAS
CURRENT quondamGryphon [CQG] has invited jackbootJudex to join private transtimeline bulletin board THEDAS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CURRENT quondamGryphon [CQG] RIGHT NOW opened memo on board THEDAS
CURRENT quondamGryphon [CQG] sent file "alistair.jpg"
(The file, when opened, has the honor of being Thedas's very first selfie: Alistair beaming uncontrollably, the image a little askew due to the awkwardness of taking a photo sight unseen.)
CQG: YSA
CQG: CULLEN
CQG: LOOK WHAT I FOUND
CQG: IT'S ON THE TROLLIAN DEVICE
It seems that in addition to finding the camera his device grew overnight, Alistair has also located the capslock button.
After that, his nightly routine gains a few extra steps: go to his room, lock the door, unlock the chest, blow out any candles, and curl up in his bed with the device in hand. Most nights, he doesn't send any messages; all he does is watch the flicker of names appearing and disappearing, the screen's soft glow providing the room's only illumination.
It doesn't feel so lonely when he does that. Just knowing he can talk to someone -- even if he doesn't end up pressing a single button the whole night -- eases a little of the pressure in his chest.
The instructions mentioned the device is a quasi-living thing. Maybe that's why the changes start: living things grow. All Alistair knows is sometime around the second week of his new routine, he pulls out the device, feels a smooth lump on its back that wasn't there before, and, with a frown, turns it over to investigate.
It looks a bit like the clear bubble holding the device's "food." It's smaller, though; it doesn't squish when Alistair prods it with a fingernail. It feels like a pearl, almost, embedded into the device's shell like a jewel stuck in a crown.
And there's a new button on the front when he flips it back over: red, printed with a circle inside a rectangle. Frown deepening, Alistair presses it.
The screen turns to glass.
Or that's what it looks like, anyway. All of a sudden, Alistair can see his knees, the floor, a bit of the chest -- hastily, swearing under his breath, he stabs the button again in the hope it'll undo whatever he just did. It doesn't. Instead, the image of his knees freezes in place, and a message pops up over top of it.
SAVE IMAGE? Y/N
What.
y, types Alistair after a long moment's pause.
NAME IMAGE: ______.jpg
...y?, types Alistair again.
IMAGE SAVED: y?.jpg
"All right, what in Andraste's name just happened," he mutters as he stares at the screen. Gingerly, he positions his finger above the new button, raises the device, and presses it again.
Click.
Huh.
Click. Click.
All right, whatever this is, it's...kind of fun.
Click-click-click --
Actually, it's downright remarkable, look what it's doing, it's -- it's painting little pictures --
CURRENT quondamGryphon [CQG] has invited amaranthineIdeopraxist to join private transtimeline bulletin board THEDAS
CURRENT quondamGryphon [CQG] has invited jackbootJudex to join private transtimeline bulletin board THEDAS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CURRENT quondamGryphon [CQG] RIGHT NOW opened memo on board THEDAS
CURRENT quondamGryphon [CQG] sent file "alistair.jpg"
(The file, when opened, has the honor of being Thedas's very first selfie: Alistair beaming uncontrollably, the image a little askew due to the awkwardness of taking a photo sight unseen.)
CQG: YSA
CQG: CULLEN
CQG: LOOK WHAT I FOUND
CQG: IT'S ON THE TROLLIAN DEVICE
It seems that in addition to finding the camera his device grew overnight, Alistair has also located the capslock button.
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CJJ: You've got a better library. I'll put it in your capable hands.
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"Right, yes -- " Gently, Alistair frees his shirt from the puppy's jaws, seizing the opportunity to slip the device into his pocket as they tussle. Sheepish, "And you also recommend the kennelmaster be given time to sleep, too, I'm sure."
"As you say, Your Majesty."
Alistair rolls over. The puppies scatter; he hauls himself to his feet. "I'm sorry," he says, a bit quieter, as he dusts off his clothes. "I appreciate your work, Denton. I don't mean to disturb it."
Denton only inclines his head. "Of course. Sleep well, Your Majesty."
"Yes. Er. You too."
He slinks past Denton, shoulders slouched like an admonished child. Brother Fuzzy makes to follow at Alistair's heels before Denton shoos him back; the kennelmaster eyes the king, eyes the puppy -- who's still straining to reach Alistair, voicing tiny, discontented whines -- and lets out an inaudible sigh as he shakes his head.
Alistair's a good two hundred yards from the kennels before he dares to take out the handheld again.
CQG: Well
CQG: Services ended a bit early tonight
CQG: I woke up the kennelmaster
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CJJ: Now I'm looking forward to the pilgrimage even more.
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CQG: We'll wake up the whole palace
CQG: Denton may banish me to the Anderfels afterward, but it'll be worth it
CQG: (Denton being the kennelmaster)
CQG: (I'm never sure if he's always so cranky or just cranky around me)
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CJJ: I spent a few weeks with Ysa in Amaranthine under a pseudonym to evaluate and train her forces.
CJJ: The crown could use a special mabari liaison to investigate, yes?
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CQG: Did the visit with Ysa go well?
CQG: Is her Thedas completely different from yours and mine?
CQG: When she says "darkspawn," does she actually mean foot-high balls of fluff that you defeat by aggressive hugging?
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JJ: I can't speak for the entirety of Thedas, but it felt like the first proper meal I'd had since I left Ferelden -- like I remembered.
JJ: I'd like to be there when you ask her that question about darkspawn to see if she makes you cry, if that's all right.
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CQG: Did a recruit best you, then?
CQG: And if you're implying that an elven woman barely five feet tall could intimidate me to the point of tears, you...
CQG: ...well, you're probably right, but only because it's Ysa, not because all elves can do that
All right, Lyna probably could, too. But Lyna's not in the picture any more, is she.
Alistair sighs, stuffs the device back in his pocket, and continues the walk to his chambers.
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CJJ: If you ever come close to guessing, I'll tell you.
CJJ: If you can come up with an acceptable bribe, I'll tell you.
CJJ: And elves in the general sense have nothing to do with it.
CJJ: I'm quite certain Ysa could intimidate Andraste herself if she put her mind to it.
His brow's furrowed a little at that, but not much, and not for long.
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CQG: Liranan scratched you
CQG: You got in a drunken brawl with someone over Ci's honor
CQG: An eagle mistook you for a turtle and tried to carry you off
CQG: A DRAGON mistook you for a slightly smaller dragon and tried to carry you off
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CJJ: To assist you in the process of elimination, no eagles were involved.
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CQG: Hmmmm
CQG: So either dragons, Liranan, or a drunken brawl, eh?
CQG: My head wants to say Liranan, but my heart wants to say dragons
CQG: Perhaps I'll flip a coin
(Because considering Cullen's temperament, a drunken brawl actually seems slightly less likely than being carried off by dragons.)
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JJ: Also, you leave out the possibility of a turtle being involved.
This is... more fun than he'd expected, playing a guessing game. Who has Cullen turned into?
JJ: And while I'm at it, Ci didn't do it, either.
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CQG: So no Liranan
CQG: Or Ci
CQG: Hm
CQG: Was the drunken brawl to defend someone else's honor?
CQG: Cullen Rutherford, is there someone you're not telling me about??
If Alistair knew about emoticons, he'd be punctuating that last sentence with about twenty :D faces.
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No. Whatever it is he's got going on with Knight-Lieutenant Merial --
-- you know, the thing where she shows up at his quarters after Vespers telling him they have to change guard rotations and no, it can't wait, at which point she moves past him into his room and they don't actually talk about guard rotations --
-- doesn't count. Not that it's not pleasant, but it's also not what Alistair means. That's what Cullen's telling himself, anyway.
CJJ: I imagine that the advantage of however many years it is between where I am and where you are means that I have broadened my circle of acquaintances beyond your expectations.
CJJ: You'll have to try harder than that.
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CQG: I'm SCANDALIZED
CQG: I don't know if I want all the details or none of them
CQG: No, wait, I've decided I want none of them
ANYWAY moving right along.
CQG: I also notice you haven't denied the drunken brawl part
CQG: So unless there really was a turtle or a dragon involved
CQG: I am even further scandalized!!
And doing his level best not to cackle so loud that he alerts the servants to any oddities.
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CJJ: Yes. A drunken brawl occurred at some point in this story. That much I will confirm.
CJJ: I might point out that the possibility exists that I was an innocent bystander.
CJJ: Bydrinker?
CJJ: Bysitter?
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CQG: But only the possibility??
He's half buried his face in the nearest pillow to stifle his cackling, which, by now, is so strong that it threatens to impede his typing.
CQG: SER CULLEN RUTHERFORD GOT IN A TAVERN BRAWL
CQG: THIS IS THE BEST NIGHT I'VE EVER HAD
CQG: THANK YOU MAKER FOR THIS PRECIOUS GIFT YOU'VE BESTOWED UPON ME
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CJJ: If I DID get in a tavern brawl, I would have said as much, since I told you that I would confirm any correct guesses.
CJJ: Such as the part where there was, in fact, a tavern brawl involved.
Not that Cullen would admit this, but he's laughing, too. A little bit. It sounds kind of like a cough. Or someone's stomach grumbling. Wheezing?
CJJ: And if you're going to use my formal title, you really ought to throw my middle name in there as well.
CJJ: It's protocol.
CJJ: Especially if you're going to insist on trying to sound like my mother.
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(More to the point, Alistair isn't actually sure he remembers Cullen's middle name.)
CQG: Besides, it's not like I'm scolding you
CQG: You're having fun!
CQG: Going to taverns!
CQG: Meeting exciting new people and fighting them hard enough to get an impressive scar on your face!
CQG: I'm so proud of how you've grown
CQG: And will also not stop laughing for the rest of the evening
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CJJ: With the possible exception of 'having fun,' I point out that this is common behavior I have exhibited for years.
CJJ: However, since your blustering is out of earshot, cackle away, I suppose.
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CQG: When things like "taverns" and "fun" were most certainly not on the table
CQG: And as I haven't yet lived through these mythical years you describe, Ser 9:37 Dragon
CQG: I stand by my pride at how much you've grown
While still laughing, Alistair's managed to get that laughter down to a more reasonable level: helpless snickering that doesn't need to be muffled by a pillow.
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He then sends:
CJJ: Congratulations on growing out of the mouthbreathing, then, Theirin.
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CQG: Rude, Rutherford
CQG: Immensely rude
CQG: No way to talk to a king
CQG: I shall do exactly nothing because you're living in Kirkwall in an entirely different Thedas, but I shall think about doing it at great length
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CJJ: I am sending words to a king.
CJJ: Precision is very important, Theirin.
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