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.
no subject
It keeps them warm, okay?
"You," she says to Zevran, voice sharp but expression affectionate. "Stop that. I'm working."
He does stop that. Eventually. And then, of course, he starts weaving tiny braids into her hair.
While that happens, Ysalwen pops up one or two holographic displays, one of which happens to be a T-Minus window. With a message in it. A bulletin board invite? That's -- new. Huh.
And once she's joined --
Huh, indeed.
CURRENT amaranthineIdeopraxist [AI] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.
CAI: Well, that's certainly something to see before bed. How did you do it? Also why did you do it? I already know what your face looks like.
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CQG: I PRESSED IT AND IT INSTANTLY DREW A PICTURE
Right, calm down a little, Your Majesty.
CQG: And I thought my face would be more recognizable than a picture of a chest or a window or something
CQG: Does yours have one?
CQG: A picture button I mean
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She doesn't bother stifling a laugh, which makes Zevran tsk at her for interrupting his amazing braiding job. Ysalwen catches him in the side with her elbow and then things settle down again.
CAI: A picture button? Let me look. I haven't tried before but since it can display images I assume
CAI: a;sldfkja;ds
CAI: No, not that one. Hmm. If I
She blinks the bright flash out of her eyes as Zevran muffles his own smug laugh in her shoulder. He was busy braiding, you see, and not looking directly into the light.
"Well, fine, then."
She takes a second picture with the light turned resolutely off.
CURRENT amaranthineIdeopraxist [CAI] sent file "favorites.jpg"
Zevran is still laughing into her shoulder, Liranan is sprawled backward across them both, yawning into the bottom half of the camera.
His teeth look very big from this angle.
And in one corner there's Ysalwen's ear and chin, and part of her tattooed cheekbone.
CAI: I found it
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CQG: Hello Zevran and Liranan!
CQG: What a beautiful family portrait
CQG: wait
Alistair can feel his cheeks going red, despite his best efforts.
CQG: am I interrupting a private moment
CQG: I can write again later
Granted, he's pretty sure Liranan wouldn't be in the picture if it were a truly private moment, but still.
(Also, Ysa does not seem like the type who'd answer messages mid-moment. One would hope.)
no subject
CAI: If this were Zevran's account, maybe. Except not ever, because no!
Sweet Andraste, no.
"Stop laughing, I'm traumatized." Unfair, Zevran. Unfair. "Liranan, smother him, please."
Liranan is only too happy to oblige.
CAI: Just quiet time? He was laughing because I blinded myself with some kind of light for a second. It made my eyes glow in the picture like Ser Pounce-a-lot's, which no one expects indoors, quite, not even from elves. That's all.
no subject
CQG: I wish you'd sent that picture along as well
CQG: I'm sure it was terrifying
CQG: Maybe Zevran could repeat the experiment when you're dealing with a crop of unruly recruits
CQG: and did someone really name a poor creature Ser Pounce-a-lot??
Says the man who would happily name a mabari "Barkspawn" the first chance he got.
no subject
CAI: But I may, with significant payment and negotiation, arrange to have an image like this taken of Velanna, with the light on.
CAI: So you can see the horror but have it entirely unconnected to my face. Or Zevran's.
CAI: Some powers no one should be trusted with.
Because no. Absolutely not. And if this gives Zevran 'ideas', Ysalwen is going to smite something.
Or maybe spot-freeze Alistair's smalls.
CAI: And yes. One of my Wardens did.
CAI: He was in the Circle with me, before.
CAI: We didn't interact much. But I know he was fond of the Tower cat, Mr. Wiggums.
CAI: I think Ser Pounce is a much better name.
CAI: I have inherited Pounce because Anders was called away and
There is a long pause before she finishes typing.
until he wants to come home I can't make him.
CAI: I mean, I can. But I won't.
no subject
CQG: 10 sovereigns next I see you
CQG: I don't even know this Velanna and I'll still do my part for the cause
As Alistair reads the rest of her messages, his mouth twists a little. Ah. Well. His typing slows by another measure.
CQG: I've found forcing someone to follow a path they don't want to take rarely ends well
CQG: ...as I'm sure you already know
(Damn timelines.)
CQG: But I'm sorry he left
CQG: Ser Pounce is in good hands
no subject
CAI: Next time I come in I will have it for you. Or tomorrow.
CAI: Probably tomorrow.
"Velanna is going to kill me," she mutters, shaking her head at either herself or this entire situation. "So you'll have to find a way to make her not. All right?"
It's like a game, of sorts. Fortunately Zevran enjoys games. And Velanna only pretends to be grumpy. Sort of.
CAI: I hope he is.
CAI: He seems to like napping on Liranan when he can, so that's all right.
CAI: Speaking of mabari . . . have you chosen your favorite from the royal kennels yet?
no subject
CQG: Is all of them an acceptable answer?
CQG: I don't want to play favorites!
Hmm. Speaking of the kennels...
no subject
Pounce, noble creature that he is, hops down from his position on the headboard and, with great dignity, heads to the kitchens to look for rats. Or scraps. Or both.
CAI: They love when you play favorites! Just. Change which one is your favorite every time. Trust me.
no subject
CQG: For research purposes of course
CQG: That massive book on how best to pet a mabari won't write itself
Alistair glances at the deepening black of the sky, counting the visible stars.
CQG: ...and I bet the kennelmaster's turned in for the night
CQG: Let's find out!
no subject
CAI: And does this mean you're going to be making more of those pictures as you go?
CAI: Please don't terrify the servants
This is all going to end in tears.
And puppies.
But mostly tears.
no subject
CQG: I just have to make sure I conduct very thorough research for the poor souls who DON'T know
CQG: And don't worry, if I didn't terrify the servants my first week, when they caught me fighting a curtain with a candlestick, then nothing I do will terrify them
CQG: Back in a moment!
After a bit of rummaging, Alistair throws on some clothes that, before the Landsmeet, would've been the nicest thing he owned by far. Now they just barely skirt the edge of "presentable," by royal standards. Alistair tries not to think about that too hard as he buttons up the shirt.
Tucking the T-minus unit into one of his trouser pockets, he sets off for the kennels.
no subject
Because it might have worked, honestly. She wonders if her Alistair tried it, too.(She guesses not. But still.)
CAI: I'm counting the seconds.
no subject
But eventually:
CQG: Don't laugh!
CQG: Curtains are FEARSOME
CQG: You never know when they'll trip you when you're just trying to take a nice stroll across your room
CQG: Or pretend to be a darkspawn when you're half asleep
CQG: But no, I think if Anora tolerated Cailan for so long, a bit more Theirin madness won't scare her off
CQG: Unfortunately
CQG: Anyway!
CURRENT quondamGryphon [CQG] sent file "hello.jpg"
A tawny-colored mabari, tongue lolling cheerfully, greets Ysa when she opens the file. It has its front legs propped up against the side of its enclosure, the better to get as close to the photographer as possible.
no subject
Alas.
CAI: Is this tonight's favorite, then?
CAI:Does he or she have a name?
CAI: I mean, regardless, he or she is beautiful, that almost goes without saying.
Mabari are always the most adorable. It's a rule. And Liranan is always the most-est adorable, as Ysalwen takes a momento to assure him while he is inspecting this mabari picture.
no subject
CQG: Her name's Nerissa
CQG: She had a litter that was just weaned
CQG: So I might be giving her a bit more attention than the others lately
CQG: Don't tell
no subject
CAI: Are you keeping all the puppies?
CAI: Or will some of them be royal gifts?
CAI: Unless your mabari learn to read, I will be silent on this subject forever.
no subject
CQG: The rest will be gifts
CQG: And one of the puppies we keep might end up the Official Royal Mabari?
CQG: I think the kennelmaster expects SOME dog to imprint on me with all the time I spend around here
CQG: He wouldn't tolerate me so much otherwise
There's a pause as Alistair, starry-eyed, contemplates the bold new world Ysa's just suggested.
CQG: ....I wonder if you COULD teach a mabari to read
CQG: I should start bringing books out here
no subject
CAI: And are related to food
CAI: Or hunting
CAI: Or combat
CAI: Or children's bedtime stories.
CAI: Liranan likes hearing about Dane
CAI: I also find it extremely likely that you will imprint on a dog sometime soon, as well.
CAI: You are Fereldan.
CAI: It happens.
no subject
CQG: Wouldn't it be terrible if I DIDN'T imprint on a mabari?
CQG: Forget being a bastard
CQG: That's REALLY set off an inquiry into my lineage
CQG: Maybe I really have been from the Anderfels this whole time and never knew it
In the meantime, it's been five whole minutes since Alistair took a picture of a dog and that simply will not stand.
CURRENT quondamGryphon [CQG] sent file "ryle.jpg"
(This one's a fair bit younger, completely black save a single white ear; his tail's whipping back and forth so fast that it's nothing but a blur.)
no subject
CAI: Liranan is actually a little jealous.
Liranan is whining a little, because black is a very dramatic color, and he could scare more people that way! Maybe not with the white ear, though.
Alas.
CAI: You do have the look of Anders about you.
CAI: If I squint.
CAI: I think it's the hair.
CAI: Anders was from the Anderfels, too.
CAI: It's a terrible nickname.
CAI: But it stuck.
no subject
CQG: Give him an extra rub behind the ears for me
CQG: And a reminder that I still think he is still the best dog
Granted, all dogs are the best dog in Alistair's view, but that doesn't change the sentiment.
CQG: So "Anders" isn't his real name?
CQG: What is it?
no subject
CAI: In fact I am doing it right now
CAI: Liranan supposes he is willing to forgive you
CAI: And accept that he is your favorite
CAI: I actually don't know what Anders' real name is
CAI: He keeps it for himself
CAI: That can be difficult enough, some days
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