byblow: (Default)
Alistair ([personal profile] byblow) wrote2015-10-30 11:28 pm
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crystal • notes • drop-in visits • etc.
complaints about the wardens go here
doneisdone: (thoughtful)

[personal profile] doneisdone 2016-11-16 06:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Mm. [She ignores him.] Turn around.

[If he doesn't comply, she propels him around by the arms and begins to take in the jacket's somewhat generous sides.]

Look at you, [she intones, pleasantly surprised.] I'll have to take your measurements again.
doneisdone: (scipio)

[personal profile] doneisdone 2016-11-16 07:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[Whine, whine, whine. Teren gives him a pinch as she straightens up again, removing the pins from her mouth to start adjusting the collar.]

Is it too tight anywhere? Spare me the theatrics.
doneisdone: (angry)

[personal profile] doneisdone 2016-11-16 07:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Alistair so help me, [Teren mutters, slapping his hand away and fixing what he messed up,] because it's an Orlesian ball, you oaf, and we're going as Inquisition representatives. If I show up in my scuffed-up leathers instead of a bloody great ballgown I'll never hear the end of it.

[She turns him forward again and steps back to survey her work.]

...and if I can't wear armor, you can't either. Besides, you'll be less easily recognized without the griffon plate, and you can spend more time with a certain pretty little redhead on your arm.
doneisdone: (smile)

[personal profile] doneisdone 2016-11-16 08:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ha. She cracked him. Teren can't help but smirk when she notices his pinkening face, acknowledging her victory.]

Then imagine how very handsome you'll look when she does see you, [she continues, circling him to tug and prod on various connections to make sure everything's fitting well.] Just pretend it's all for her.

[She steps back once more and brushes off his shoulders, folding her arms in satisfaction.]

Not to mention I spent fifteen sodding hours on it, so between this and starting over it'd be easier to just kill you and hide the body.
doneisdone: (Default)

[personal profile] doneisdone 2016-11-16 11:04 pm (UTC)(link)
Stop it, [she hisses in mounting exasperation-- just when she thought she'd made a little headway, he so easily falls back into his dramatics.

But as she begins to pack things up, he continues, and she turns to look at him with a particular glint in her eye: her fuse is deceptively long, but Alistair is nearing the end of it.]

Boy, [she intones, her voice a bit too quiet and calm,] are you calling me pathetic?
doneisdone: (angry)

[personal profile] doneisdone 2016-11-17 12:10 am (UTC)(link)
You are! [she insists, once again smacking his hand away from the threads-- is he determined to undo everything? Her voice picks up in its brusqueness, growing more aggressive as her anger builds.]
You're suggesting I don't know what I'm doing, that I'm a fool for trying, that I'd let you look like a dog in a hat! And you're acting like a spoilt little boy in the meantime, fidgeting and whining because you can't wear your armor! Poor you.

[Picking up her sewing box, she nudges her head at the tent opening, curtly indicating for him to follow.]

You haven't even seen it on yourself yet. Now come look, you petulant whinging child, or I'll bloody make you. [Among other useful things, she keeps a sewing mannequin and mirror in her tent for such occasions.]
doneisdone: (Default)

[personal profile] doneisdone 2016-11-17 01:21 am (UTC)(link)
[He's lucky he complies when he does, because he was at serious risk of being dragged by his ear. Childish, helpless, perhaps he's neither of these things or both-- either way, deep in the black recesses of Teren's shriveled heart, there is affection for him and genuine affront that he would be so rude.

She stalks ahead of him and flips her tent flap open, her eyes like the points of daggers dragging him across a flat surface, and once he's inside she gestures at the mirror.

The ensemble is for certain fancier than anything he's likely worn before, but all things considered, it's fairly understated and isn't half as frilly as it feels. The style is more Fereldan than Orlesian, and, like most of Teren's creations, strikingly utilitarian.

She stands with her arms crossed, glaring and waiting for him to comment.]
doneisdone: (thoughtful)

[personal profile] doneisdone 2016-11-17 09:30 pm (UTC)(link)
Ha. Haha.

[Not a chance.]

Go on then, take it off and I'll have it ready by the time we leave for Halamshiral.

[She pats his back, shooing him back out to return to his tent where his other clothes are.]

And stop sulking, it's unbecoming.
doneisdone: (Default)

[personal profile] doneisdone 2016-11-17 11:39 pm (UTC)(link)
[Teren looks a bit surprised by this-- not the look, of course, to which she's impervious. But the question.]

Do you need to be told twice? [she counters, angling her head warningly.]
Edited 2016-11-18 00:26 (UTC)
doneisdone: (smile)

[personal profile] doneisdone 2016-11-18 12:58 am (UTC)(link)
[Now that he seems to have accepted the outfit, Teren's anger has dissipated. But that doesn't mean he needs to know that.

She catches the smarm in his expression and rolls her eyes, waiting until he turns around to pick up her measuring tape and whip him once with it before he can get out of range.]

Arse. [There definitely isn't any affection in her tone, she has no idea what you're talking about. Get out.]