(no subject)

[mosthonest]

Iago enters. Stage left.

He's been perusing one of those brochures and then tucks it away somewhere in his doublet. He's a soldier, and the astute might guess by his clothes -- unremarkable, but they have the crisp unworn look of who does not go about his life as a civilian much -- and his bearing. Iago looks like a man who has done much marching, and so is enjoying the freedom he has to amble and lounge while he can in his own time. He's got an easy, open face.

"Here's for you soldiers," he says to the Forum in general. "How fare you in times of peace? Find you solace in that gentler life, and put you far your battle ways and bloody thoughts with ease as a man hangs up arms?"

Iago licks his lips. Not in a menacing way, he just looks thirsty. For answers, for war, more probably just for beer.

"Or does the blood run hot? Dost count the minutes to the next campaign, and think you of the quiet and indolent world outside of war, 'this is not life'?"

Comments

[onemorebounty]

*She raises a brow, the rest of her expression turning down in disapproval--the gaze of an irritated hawk. It isn't crude speech that's abraded her sensibilities, though, so Iago was right in that judgment at least.*

If you're training your dogs with a whip, then I'd say yes, you deserve a few lashes, yourself. But that wouldn't teach you to be a better soldier, or a better man. It would only teach you to fear me, and most people can figure that one out without a beating.

*She gives him another appraising look, considering his attire and what it says about the civilization from which he comes.*

Do people where you're from not know any lesson but fear?

[mosthonest]

He shrugs and meets her gaze. Appraising him, there's plenty to learn -- though his doublet is new-looking, it's hard leather. His cloak is well worn, as are his gloves and boots. They're all spotless but have the look of having been cleaned often -- slightly faded after years of scrubbing off blood and mud and dust. There's a rapier by his side, sheathed on a very, very old looking leather belt. It has also seen much use, and has been tenderly well-cared for. On the clasp of his cloak is a winged lion that shines.

"Of you course you're right, madam. It's a wise man who fears all women, they have power over us so. A lady's words alone can oft be well as any lashing of the whip. And no, 'tis not fear that one may learn of a beating only... more that one has a duty. That to stray from it earns pain, but to well serve earns reward. A dog behaved without the lash receiveth praise, and love, and little morsels of our meat, no? Any soldier's outward show of gentleness reflects not an inward sweetness, but rather he's been fattened on the spoils of war and need not bear his teeth until his hunger rise again."

[onemorebounty]

*There are insights to be gleaned from a study of her form, as well, if Iago dares make it. Her physique speaks of extraordinary fitness, and she carries herself with the easy confidence of someone accustomed to a position of strength. It is perhaps not the sort of strength he is used to seeing in women, for her self-assurance has more in common with the soldiers and officers he might know, albeit somewhat less regimented. If he has known any particularly skilled mercenaries, that might make an apt comparison. If she is armed, she hides the fact exceedingly well.*

I wasn't saying men should fear women, I was saying I don't usually need to beat people for them to fear me.

*She gives a slight shake of her head, thinking.*

Do people need to be beaten, where you're from, to find a sense of duty?