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shinonI am only just beginning to orient myself in the FFIX space. Steiner seemed like as valid an entry point as any. Maybe more so. Steiner is incredibly valid. Prompts from GYWO Yahtzee as before.
"Manqué"
Steiner broke out the big words when he was especially incensed, which, lately, was all the time. He seemed to think fancy language was needed to do justice to his lofty ideas of dignity and propriety, although where he'd picked that up Garnet had no idea. Hard to imagine Steiner applying himself to a book.
“Princess,” he was saying, “I urge you to put that scoundrel from your mind. He's beneath you! That thief, that – that – thespian manqué -”
Garnet kept a straight face as best she was able. “I appreciate your concern, Steiner. But I think it's pronounced 'monkey.'”
"Lacuna"
Brahne was wise, once. Brahne was kind. Sweat prickles his face at the thought: “was.” Is no more. Even he can no longer pretend not to see it.
She seeks war everywhere. She doesn't value General Beatrix properly. She tried to kill Princess Garnet.
Steiner isn't a philosopher. He was happy to place his will in Brahne's hands. He decided once, long ago, that Alexandria was justice and the Queen was Alexandria. He's never made a decision since.
What now? Slot the Princess into her mother's niche and carry on? Or – the more threatening prospect – make up his own mind?
"Fetor"
There is a stink of blood and panic in the streets of Alexandria. And a smell of something... other. It's in the smoke, and the exhalations of these dead things from the Mist. Steiner imagines the corruption traveling up the fuller, reaching for him each time he slams his sword home, but this is no time for imaginings.
Beatrix's sword takes a monster through what passes for its neck. Her white magic unmakes another as if it had never been.
This is wrong. Their beloved city, beset by horrors. Citizens fleeing burning homes. Can only two swords put it right?
"Bossy"
"Discipline," Steiner announced, "is lacking."
Freya looked up from binding fresh ribbons around her spear. "Oh, aye?" She'd first struck him as a serious and knightly person; her occasional sarcasms discomfited him.
"Well - one hears about shipboard life being *orderly*. I haven't seen this deck swabbed once, laundry day's come and gone-"
Master Vivi, who'd approached as silently as always, spoke at Steiner's elbow: "I can help. I'm good at cleaning."
"I didn't mean you-"
"And the duty rota is yours to make, is it?" said Freya. "The Regent will be glad to have his ship off his hands."
"Peppery"
“Quina's nice,” said Garnet, by way of peace offering. “They may take some getting used to, but they don't mean any harm.”
Maybe this was true. It was Her Majesty's privilege (though Steiner wished she would exercise it less) to choose her own company. It was his task to see harm where she didn't. And he'd already failed once.
“But think of your safety,” he said, hoarsely. His throat might be burned. His nose had only stopped running a minute ago. “An assassin could easily poison -”
Garnet sighed. “I know, Steiner. You've very bravely protected me from gumbo.”
"Manqué"
Steiner broke out the big words when he was especially incensed, which, lately, was all the time. He seemed to think fancy language was needed to do justice to his lofty ideas of dignity and propriety, although where he'd picked that up Garnet had no idea. Hard to imagine Steiner applying himself to a book.
“Princess,” he was saying, “I urge you to put that scoundrel from your mind. He's beneath you! That thief, that – that – thespian manqué -”
Garnet kept a straight face as best she was able. “I appreciate your concern, Steiner. But I think it's pronounced 'monkey.'”
"Lacuna"
Brahne was wise, once. Brahne was kind. Sweat prickles his face at the thought: “was.” Is no more. Even he can no longer pretend not to see it.
She seeks war everywhere. She doesn't value General Beatrix properly. She tried to kill Princess Garnet.
Steiner isn't a philosopher. He was happy to place his will in Brahne's hands. He decided once, long ago, that Alexandria was justice and the Queen was Alexandria. He's never made a decision since.
What now? Slot the Princess into her mother's niche and carry on? Or – the more threatening prospect – make up his own mind?
"Fetor"
There is a stink of blood and panic in the streets of Alexandria. And a smell of something... other. It's in the smoke, and the exhalations of these dead things from the Mist. Steiner imagines the corruption traveling up the fuller, reaching for him each time he slams his sword home, but this is no time for imaginings.
Beatrix's sword takes a monster through what passes for its neck. Her white magic unmakes another as if it had never been.
This is wrong. Their beloved city, beset by horrors. Citizens fleeing burning homes. Can only two swords put it right?
"Bossy"
"Discipline," Steiner announced, "is lacking."
Freya looked up from binding fresh ribbons around her spear. "Oh, aye?" She'd first struck him as a serious and knightly person; her occasional sarcasms discomfited him.
"Well - one hears about shipboard life being *orderly*. I haven't seen this deck swabbed once, laundry day's come and gone-"
Master Vivi, who'd approached as silently as always, spoke at Steiner's elbow: "I can help. I'm good at cleaning."
"I didn't mean you-"
"And the duty rota is yours to make, is it?" said Freya. "The Regent will be glad to have his ship off his hands."
"Peppery"
“Quina's nice,” said Garnet, by way of peace offering. “They may take some getting used to, but they don't mean any harm.”
Maybe this was true. It was Her Majesty's privilege (though Steiner wished she would exercise it less) to choose her own company. It was his task to see harm where she didn't. And he'd already failed once.
“But think of your safety,” he said, hoarsely. His throat might be burned. His nose had only stopped running a minute ago. “An assassin could easily poison -”
Garnet sighed. “I know, Steiner. You've very bravely protected me from gumbo.”
