[She, in turn, seems genuinely surprised by the answer - and then roundly embarrassed by her own surprise.] Oh. Of course. I didn't even think of-- yes, naturally. A reassignment would have to be made through Skyhold. That makes sense. I sometimes forget-- well, no. Never mind. What a silly thing to have asked. You must forgive me.
[Hurrying right along in the effort to put as much distance herself from being surprised by something so basic a would-be military organization splitting people up, she veers in a direction that could only be called 'rambling':] I might have been in the same position, you know. Where I come from. If you believe that sort of thing, I mean. Evidently it's a matter of some dispute.
[Wysteria wiggles her left hand for emphasis, the sickly green of the shard embedded there a mute pulsing glow.]
After my examinations, I would have been assigned to a position and had very little choice in the matter. Which would have been fine, of course. I wouldn't have joined the college if I hadn't been intrigued by the possibility. After all, there was always the slight hope that I might find myself doing something I found really very interesting. But I'm not sure I believe it. In retrospect, you know. It's far more likely that I'd have found myself down in Blackmarket Garden weaving encha--er-- uniforms? F-for the infantry abroad and so on. But I'm very handy with a [ugh, what a stupid substitute to have picked] needle and thread, so I suppose it could have been tolerated even if I don't care a whit for...
[She trails off, as if even she's grown tired of herself. And then all at once, as if something has occurred to her or she's been struck by something sharp, her scattered attention sharpens. Something in her becomes suddenly very direct, very purposeful.]
Is there something you would very much prefer to do? If you could pick anything at all? It doesn't matter if it has to do with the Inquisition or not.
no subject
[Hurrying right along in the effort to put as much distance herself from being surprised by something so basic a would-be military organization splitting people up, she veers in a direction that could only be called 'rambling':] I might have been in the same position, you know. Where I come from. If you believe that sort of thing, I mean. Evidently it's a matter of some dispute.
[Wysteria wiggles her left hand for emphasis, the sickly green of the shard embedded there a mute pulsing glow.]
After my examinations, I would have been assigned to a position and had very little choice in the matter. Which would have been fine, of course. I wouldn't have joined the college if I hadn't been intrigued by the possibility. After all, there was always the slight hope that I might find myself doing something I found really very interesting. But I'm not sure I believe it. In retrospect, you know. It's far more likely that I'd have found myself down in Blackmarket Garden weaving encha--er-- uniforms? F-for the infantry abroad and so on. But I'm very handy with a [ugh, what a stupid substitute to have picked] needle and thread, so I suppose it could have been tolerated even if I don't care a whit for...
[She trails off, as if even she's grown tired of herself. And then all at once, as if something has occurred to her or she's been struck by something sharp, her scattered attention sharpens. Something in her becomes suddenly very direct, very purposeful.]
Is there something you would very much prefer to do? If you could pick anything at all? It doesn't matter if it has to do with the Inquisition or not.