Cole: So many masks.

　　Blackwall: At the ball? It's Orlesian culture, get used to it.

　　Cole: Not at the ball. Here.

　　———————

　　Cole: "Mockingbird, mockingbird, quiet and still, what do you see from the top of that hill? Can you see up? Can you see down? "

　　Blackwall: Wait...

　　Cole: Can you see the dead things all about town?

　　Blackwall: How do you know that song?

　　Cole: It just came to me. Everyone says everyone knows it. The children knew it.

　　———————

　　Cole: How do you get the hair on your face?

　　Blackwall: Look, ask Varric. He seems to have adopted you.

　　Cole: He doesn't have have hair on his face. Is it a mask?

　　Blackwall: No it's a beard. Look, if you were any other lad your age I'd tell that one day you'll probably grow one too, except I don't know if spirits that become boys get beards.

　　Cole: I could try.

　　Blackwall: Right. You go do that then. Good luck. Have fun.

　　———————

　　Cole: We played by the fire so she would be warm. No, it's summer, Liddy.

　　Blackwall: This thing you do? Maybe you should stop doing it.

　　Cole: Got her flower but they'd taken her. Left it on her bed. Next eight on the sill.

　　Cole: Tourney sands. A garden seat. Five to Chantry altars. One to a child with her hair. The sea? Too many to count.

　　Cole: And thirty-six. Tossed off the battlements today.

　　Blackwall: Go bother Solas.

　　Cole: You have many feelings.

　　Cole: I'm sorry she died.

　　———————

　　Cole: Your knife is big.

　　Blackwall: [Snickers] It's a sword.

　　Cole: It's bigger than mine.

　　Blackwall: And now you've made it awkward.

　　———————

　　Blackwall: How does a spirit become flesh anyway?

　　Cole: I don't know. How does a Warden become Grey?

　　———————

　　Blackwall: You know, Cole, you're not so bad. But I'll never get used to the things that come out of your mouth.

　　Cole: There was once a man who had bees coming out of his mouth?

　　Blackwall: A perfect example.

　　———————

　　Blackwall: What are you staring at?

　　Cole: Your head. So many tangles. Knots. And that's just on the inside.

　　Cole: You need a hairbrush.

　　———————

　　Blackwall: Hey, Cole. Say something interesting.

　　Cole: "Something interesting"?

　　Blackwall: Yes, I deserved that one.

　　———————

　　Cole: When you charge at them, you make them hit you.

　　Blackwall: Ideally. That's why my armor's heavier than yours.

　　———————

　　Cole: Golden, graceful, glittering but not gaudy. Voice delicate and delectable.

　　Blackwall: What are you talking about, Cole?

　　Cole: Sweet, soft, silky. Her dress, and also under her dress. Are you going to talk to Josephine?

　　Blackwall: Maker's balls, get out of my mind, would you? You make me sound like a dirty, old bastard!

　　Cole: Do you want to hear what she thinks of you?

　　Blackwall: No.

　　Cole: You should.

　　———————

　　Blackwall: They say you're a demon.

　　Cole: Yes. Or spirit. I want it to be spirit.

　　Blackwall: Either way, I know you're dangerous.

　　Cole: Yes. Like you.

　　Blackwall: What?

　　Cole: A sack on the side of the road, struggling. The boy runs from it, crying.

　　Blackwall: Fine, so you're dangerous and insane.

　　———————

[If not romance Blackwall.]

　　Cole: You would stop it if you could. That is enough. But don't do it again.

　　Blackwall: Why are you here? Do you even understand what's happening in the world?

　　Cole: I heal the helpless, give hope where there is hurt.

　　Blackwall: But you've killed before.

　　Cole: Yes. Before I knew what I was.

　　Blackwall: Why should we believe you can help now?

　　Cole: It hurts too much, I can't be me, have to be someone who never killed.

　　Cole: Help enough and I'm different, I'm not me. Believe it to become it.

　　Blackwall: Maker's balls！

　　Cole: We can change, if we want it enough.

　　———————

　　Blackwall: Tell me, Cole, how do you make them forget you?

　　Cole: I'm not really real. They already want to forget me.

　　Cole: I find the part that doesn't fit and set it free. Their mind makes a shape that makes sense without me.

　　Blackwall: That's not right.

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