Party Banter Meme

[faderifting]

In the Dragon Age games, as you travel Thedas with your best pals, they have a lot of short conversations about politics, the weather, butts, etc. So this is the Fade Rift equivalent, in four easy steps!

1. Imagine your characters are on a very long walk toward a mission objective, or on a very long walk back after kicking ass, or standing guard together, or gathering herbs, or working in the library late at night, or something. Anything sort of boring that might make people want to have a dumb conversation just to break things up a bit.

OPTIONAL ASSISTANT: Since so many people reported being out of it, we made a random generator to help you come up with some general banter prompts for your top-levels.

2. Post a few remarks your character might say (similar to TFLN, except spoken out loud and less ridiculous and sexy, maybe. maybe not. we don’t know your life) while passing the time.

3. Tag around to reply to those general remarks or to start new/wildcard conversations! Threads should be pretty short and involve minimal action; there’s no need to turn anything into a big production. Multiperson threads are encouraged. Series of conversations between the same two characters occurring on different days are also encouraged.

4. Gather up all of your little conversation snippets like a bouquet and keep them forever, because they’re game canon. Banter threads can't be used for Base AC, but do count towards AC Rewards points.

Comments

[bouchonne]

Bastien!

[cozen]

Believe me, By, I would love to tell you in detail about the battle scars covering his torso and how they remind Alarra of the fractured stained glass in Chantry window, like a holy monument to masculinity, an altar where she must worship—but I cannot reward laziness. You are a grown man. It is time.

[bouchonne]

You truly are a beast of a man, Bastien. Beastien. Orlesian monstrosity.

[ Then, dropping the act - ]

Do Orlesians actually read that? Despite my years in Orlais, the Orlesian attitude towards the Occupation remains a mystery to me. Beyond, of course, their orientation towards it as something that might possibly get the Fereldan they're drinking with stirred up enough to punch them in the jaw.

[cozen]

I actually read that. And I have known a Baronness or seven to want a man to paint himself with kat— kad— [ He means kaddis. ] —that dog paint, and carry her around over his shoulder. Not me, of course.

[ He holds an arm up, forearm dangling in the floppy opposite of a bicep flex. There is a bicep in there, of course, but the point remains: his hulking brute impression is pretty unconvincing. ]

But, mm. I do not think Orlesians think about it as much as Fereldans. The privilege, ouais, of having it happen on the other side of the mountains. Most people never saw the blood. Our fathers might have had their wounds, when they returned, but they did not tell their children they earned them burning fields and hurting women. So a generation passes, and it is just something that happened a long time ago, far away. I suppose that is true of most things.

[ But—and he means it, openly searching for any twitch or breath that might give away a dishonest answer— ]

Does it bother you, when I make fun of Ferelden?

[bouchonne]

[ And, honestly, without pause - ]

No. Not when you make fun of it.

[ He glances over. ]

Does it bother you, when I poke fun at your commonness?

[ Since the two seem to him a rough equivalent. Fereldans stepped on by Orlesians; the small stepped on by the great. (As much as Byerly can be considered great.) ]

[cozen]

[ He hums and wobbles his head, considering. (Unnecessarily. It’s fine.) ]

Maybe if you were better at it.

[bouchonne]

I'm amazing at it. I'm devastating.

[cozen]

[ He laughs, but not like Byerly’s said something stupid. ]

You know, I believe you. And I am very grateful for your restraint. We will have to add that to our agreement, as future rivals: no poison, no total emotional devastation. Partial—maybe.

[bouchonne]

Or at least nothing deliberate. Accidental seems inevitable.

[cozen]

Do you think so? Such a pessimist.

[bouchonne]

The nature of a Fereldan man, no? Or at least a man of Dragonmount. Our lands are poor, and there's little good that springs from that soil. So too is it in the heart of men.

[cozen]

[ For a moment he looks like he's thinking of saying something cute, in the light-and-trite sense of the word, maybe offering to sell Byerly one of the terrible gardening manuals he still hasn't managed to fully liquidate, but he rolls his lips through his teeth as if to wring the smile out of them and manages to contain the impulse. ]

Well. You might be right. But if I unintentionally devastate you, let me know, and I will try to fix it.

[bouchonne]

[ By frowns very slightly. ]

What were you about to say?

[cozen]

[ His face only gets halfway into arranging for innocently confused before he thinks better of it. ]

Something flippant. But I think you have probably earned the right to be a little dire.