(no subject)
не нашла как спрятать подкат. Ну и хрен=) Диалоги в ДА.
* Wynne: Alistair, may I have a word?
* Alistair: Of course, anything for my favouritest mage ever.
* Wynne: It seems you and our fearless leader are inseparable these days. Joined at the hip, almost.
* Alistair: That's a bit of an overstatement, don't you think?
* Wynne: Well then, now that you're in an intimate relationship, you should learn about where babies really come from.
* Alistair: Pardon?
* Wynne: I know the Chantry says you dream about your babies and the good Fade spirits take them out of the Fade and leave them in your arms...but that's not true. Actually what happens is that when a girl and a boy really love each other --
* Alistair: Andraste's flaming sword! I know where babies come from!
* Wynne: Do you? Do you really?
* Alistair: I certainly hope so.
* Wynne: Oh, all right then. Aww, look, you're all red and mottled. How cute.
* Alistair: You did that on purpose!
* Wynne: Now, now Alistair, why would I do such a thing?
* Alistair: Because you're wicked. That frail old lady act? I'm so not fooled. I'm on to you now.
* Wynne: Alistair, what's this?
* Alistair: It's a sock?
* Wynne: It's a filthy sock. How did it find its way to my bedroll?
* Alistair: Maybe it likes you? Socks are sneaky like that. Anyway, it's not mine.
* Wynne: It has your name stitched on it.
* Alistair: Oh. Ha, ha. Ha. Part of templar training, back at the Chantry. The men were... always getting their socks mixed up. Anyway, uh, sorry about that. I'll take it from you right now. One of my socks is feeling a little damp anyway. A change would be nice.
* Wynne: You're going to put it on? It's filthy!
* Alistair: And dry. We're not exactly traveling in the lap of luxury here.
* Wynne: What hideous habits you've picked up.
* Zevran: Might I offer you a bit of advice, my good friend Alistair?
* Alistair: I like my hair the way it is, thank you.
* Zevran: Truly? As you wish... though my advice is regarding something else completely. It has to do with your recent... exertions with your fellow Grey Warden that I overheard.
* Alistair: My...? Oh.
* Zevran: It did seem as if you just got going when all grew quiet. You are... feeling all right, yes? Perhaps you are tired?
* Alistair: We aren't talking about this, are we? Did I hit my head?
* Zevran: I have some roots from home that you may chew if you need energy. As for volume, perhaps you ought to try arching your--
* Alistair: Whoa! Whoa! Awkward!
* Zevran: You Fereldans are so finicky. How will you ever learn how to pleasure each other unless you talk about it?
* Alistair: not listening! La la la la la!
* Zevran: I couldn't help hearing about your... predicament. Forgive me if I am prying...
* Wynne: Yes, you are.
* Zevran: ... but what does it feel like being possessed by a spirit?
* Wynne: Why does this interest you so?
* Zevran: I simply wish to get to know those that I travel with. Is that wrong of me?
* Wynne: No, of course it isn't. Well... let me see. It is hard to describe. It is comforting... I... I feel safe, loved.
* Zevran: Comforted, loved, yes...
* Wynne: It is like being held close, cradled... the bond is so complete that I am unable to extricate myself, nor do I wish to. Wait... why do you have that look on your face?
* Zevran: Mmm, I... I am simply imagining it. Continue, please.
* Wynne: And there is a constant warmth, that spreads outwards from the very center of my being, infusing my body with--
* Zevran: Ooh...
* Wynne: Andraste's grace, what are you thinking about now? No, I don't want to know. I feel dirty. Do not speak to me.
* Zevran: Hello my stocky little friend!
* Oghren: Huh. You got small breasts for a gal.
* Zevran: Ah. This is where we begin the typical dwarven/elven rivalry, is it?
* Oghren: Nahhh.
* Oghren: So... Antiva. Wonderful place. Full of Antivans...
* Zevran: Oghren. If you want to bed me, you need only ask.
* Oghren: What!? Draw your sword and say that again!
* Zevran: (Laughs) I jest, my foul-smelling friend. You are only slightly more attractive to me than a slime-filled pool of swamp water.
* Oghren: (Grunts) Better be.
* Zevran: You have my oath.
* Oghren: Bloody Antivans.
* Zevran: So is it very strange for you, my friend, living in the world of the tall?
* Oghren: Here I thought I was living in the world of the nosy and the stupid.
* Zevran: It just occurred to me. Chairs are too high. Tables are out of reach. using the toilet facilities alone must be a lesson in humility.
* Oghren: I'm not bloody two feet tall, you swishy nug-licker!
* Zevran: And then the light! After all that gloom of Orzammar and the Deep Roads, it's a wonder you don't wander about squinting in pain.
* Oghren: It is bright, I'll give you that.
* Zevran: And... oh! Not to have a roof over your head! You must constantly fear that you'll fall up into that vast, endlessly open sky.
* Oghren: Uh...
* Zevran: One day you live within the surety of a mountain, and then gone! Nothing but vacuum, nothing to stop you from being sucked up into the void, nothing to--
* Oghren: Stop! One more word and I chop you down where you stand!
* Zevran: You are a brave, brave little soldier, my friend.
* Oghren: All right. I guess you aren't all that bad.
* Zevran: You just decided that, did you?
* Oghren: Well, I've watch you fight. You could be worse, I guess.
* Zevran: From you, that's practically a proposal of marriage.
* Oghren: Don't get excited or nothin'. You're not what I'm looking for in a wife.
* Zevran: Considering what happened to your last wife, I'll count myself as fortunate.
* Zevran: So I imagine it has been some time for you, Leliana.
* Leliana: Some time for me? I do not know what you mean.
* Zevran: Some time since you last knocked boots, shall we say? You did just come from the cloistered life, no?
* Leliana: Of course it has been some time. There are more important things in life than "knocking boots," Zevran.
* Zevran: Oh, I'll not argue that. I simply mean that the body has urges, urges given to us by the Maker. Yours must be... considerable. After all that time.
* Leliana: That is a very personal question.
* Zevran: I mean no offense. I simply offer my services should you ever feel the need for... release.
* Leliana: Let me think about it, then. Should every man in Ferelden suddenly die, you may even have your chance.
* Zevran: A-ha! Progress!
* Wynne: Alistair, may I have a word?
* Alistair: Of course, anything for my favouritest mage ever.
* Wynne: It seems you and our fearless leader are inseparable these days. Joined at the hip, almost.
* Alistair: That's a bit of an overstatement, don't you think?
* Wynne: Well then, now that you're in an intimate relationship, you should learn about where babies really come from.
* Alistair: Pardon?
* Wynne: I know the Chantry says you dream about your babies and the good Fade spirits take them out of the Fade and leave them in your arms...but that's not true. Actually what happens is that when a girl and a boy really love each other --
* Alistair: Andraste's flaming sword! I know where babies come from!
* Wynne: Do you? Do you really?
* Alistair: I certainly hope so.
* Wynne: Oh, all right then. Aww, look, you're all red and mottled. How cute.
* Alistair: You did that on purpose!
* Wynne: Now, now Alistair, why would I do such a thing?
* Alistair: Because you're wicked. That frail old lady act? I'm so not fooled. I'm on to you now.
* Wynne: Alistair, what's this?
* Alistair: It's a sock?
* Wynne: It's a filthy sock. How did it find its way to my bedroll?
* Alistair: Maybe it likes you? Socks are sneaky like that. Anyway, it's not mine.
* Wynne: It has your name stitched on it.
* Alistair: Oh. Ha, ha. Ha. Part of templar training, back at the Chantry. The men were... always getting their socks mixed up. Anyway, uh, sorry about that. I'll take it from you right now. One of my socks is feeling a little damp anyway. A change would be nice.
* Wynne: You're going to put it on? It's filthy!
* Alistair: And dry. We're not exactly traveling in the lap of luxury here.
* Wynne: What hideous habits you've picked up.
* Zevran: Might I offer you a bit of advice, my good friend Alistair?
* Alistair: I like my hair the way it is, thank you.
* Zevran: Truly? As you wish... though my advice is regarding something else completely. It has to do with your recent... exertions with your fellow Grey Warden that I overheard.
* Alistair: My...? Oh.
* Zevran: It did seem as if you just got going when all grew quiet. You are... feeling all right, yes? Perhaps you are tired?
* Alistair: We aren't talking about this, are we? Did I hit my head?
* Zevran: I have some roots from home that you may chew if you need energy. As for volume, perhaps you ought to try arching your--
* Alistair: Whoa! Whoa! Awkward!
* Zevran: You Fereldans are so finicky. How will you ever learn how to pleasure each other unless you talk about it?
* Alistair: not listening! La la la la la!
* Zevran: I couldn't help hearing about your... predicament. Forgive me if I am prying...
* Wynne: Yes, you are.
* Zevran: ... but what does it feel like being possessed by a spirit?
* Wynne: Why does this interest you so?
* Zevran: I simply wish to get to know those that I travel with. Is that wrong of me?
* Wynne: No, of course it isn't. Well... let me see. It is hard to describe. It is comforting... I... I feel safe, loved.
* Zevran: Comforted, loved, yes...
* Wynne: It is like being held close, cradled... the bond is so complete that I am unable to extricate myself, nor do I wish to. Wait... why do you have that look on your face?
* Zevran: Mmm, I... I am simply imagining it. Continue, please.
* Wynne: And there is a constant warmth, that spreads outwards from the very center of my being, infusing my body with--
* Zevran: Ooh...
* Wynne: Andraste's grace, what are you thinking about now? No, I don't want to know. I feel dirty. Do not speak to me.
* Zevran: Hello my stocky little friend!
* Oghren: Huh. You got small breasts for a gal.
* Zevran: Ah. This is where we begin the typical dwarven/elven rivalry, is it?
* Oghren: Nahhh.
* Oghren: So... Antiva. Wonderful place. Full of Antivans...
* Zevran: Oghren. If you want to bed me, you need only ask.
* Oghren: What!? Draw your sword and say that again!
* Zevran: (Laughs) I jest, my foul-smelling friend. You are only slightly more attractive to me than a slime-filled pool of swamp water.
* Oghren: (Grunts) Better be.
* Zevran: You have my oath.
* Oghren: Bloody Antivans.
* Zevran: So is it very strange for you, my friend, living in the world of the tall?
* Oghren: Here I thought I was living in the world of the nosy and the stupid.
* Zevran: It just occurred to me. Chairs are too high. Tables are out of reach. using the toilet facilities alone must be a lesson in humility.
* Oghren: I'm not bloody two feet tall, you swishy nug-licker!
* Zevran: And then the light! After all that gloom of Orzammar and the Deep Roads, it's a wonder you don't wander about squinting in pain.
* Oghren: It is bright, I'll give you that.
* Zevran: And... oh! Not to have a roof over your head! You must constantly fear that you'll fall up into that vast, endlessly open sky.
* Oghren: Uh...
* Zevran: One day you live within the surety of a mountain, and then gone! Nothing but vacuum, nothing to stop you from being sucked up into the void, nothing to--
* Oghren: Stop! One more word and I chop you down where you stand!
* Zevran: You are a brave, brave little soldier, my friend.
* Oghren: All right. I guess you aren't all that bad.
* Zevran: You just decided that, did you?
* Oghren: Well, I've watch you fight. You could be worse, I guess.
* Zevran: From you, that's practically a proposal of marriage.
* Oghren: Don't get excited or nothin'. You're not what I'm looking for in a wife.
* Zevran: Considering what happened to your last wife, I'll count myself as fortunate.
* Zevran: So I imagine it has been some time for you, Leliana.
* Leliana: Some time for me? I do not know what you mean.
* Zevran: Some time since you last knocked boots, shall we say? You did just come from the cloistered life, no?
* Leliana: Of course it has been some time. There are more important things in life than "knocking boots," Zevran.
* Zevran: Oh, I'll not argue that. I simply mean that the body has urges, urges given to us by the Maker. Yours must be... considerable. After all that time.
* Leliana: That is a very personal question.
* Zevran: I mean no offense. I simply offer my services should you ever feel the need for... release.
* Leliana: Let me think about it, then. Should every man in Ferelden suddenly die, you may even have your chance.
* Zevran: A-ha! Progress!