Streets of Hope

So, how long ago did you last flyt?

He nearly chokes on his Thermos-insulated and blood-filled travel cup, then swallows back an urge to chuckle.

"Ah, well, you see, flyting is something a warrior defaults to out of either profound friendship or deeply internalized scorn. The modern day looks down on displays of rhetorical bravura if they don't appear to come out of living actors or well-received rap artisans. I've occasionally planted a rhyme or two in my scolding the occasional errant Junior in Wyvern's Investments team, but have yet to receive a response. I suspect there is something to my face, as dessicated and fang-filled as it is, that makes most others assume I couldn't possibly not mean business in the sense modern brokers and financial advisors are used to."

He grins and sighs.

"Oh, well. Times change for all of us, don't they? Would that I could flyt with one possessed of skill; alas, most keep jaws tight and feed rumor mills..."

"Okay, I'll bite...

I am not one to brag, Haraldson-Jarl, but I've been known to flyt with nary a snarl."

He glances at Meris

"Want to chip in, darling?"

"A good flyter's ready at the drop o' th' hat, else 'e finds 'imself face down flat on th' mat!"

"I'm sure you are, Charles - you're champing at the bit; but I sometimes wonder if you've got all the needed wits..."

Three adds in a big smirk and a slurp from his very regular and very much not blood-filled Thermos

"The closest I came to flyting was with the Chamberlain. Though, it was in the Black Speech, during the days when I was Queen of Dalarath."

"Angry Warriors,
Slinging Words Around Like Mud,
They Sound Like Children!"

Tom: "Mary! How goes it? Love the energy, but haikus aren't terribly Nordic. Not that I care, though - I'm not exactly the Flyting Police."

Lucian: "Oh, come now, mister Magnus; it's obvious that this is the form she is most comfortable with. As for the Black Speech being comparable to flyting, well... I would say this is a very generous comparison, perhaps excessively so.

The Architect's restored words do strike me as having the measured pace of philosophical debates carried out in the utmost courtesy and respect, but my old idiom felt as though two parasitic strains of data were competing for the same neurological payload, whenever employed in a discussion. It obviously infirms the Loyalists' love for treachery and deceit, especially considering how open confrontation oftentimes happened to be exhausting and exceedingly dangerous for all parties involved."