contact part deux

[bouchonne]

if this were modern times byerly would probably make you listen to total eclipse of the heart before you were able to leave a message

Comments

[keenly]

Colin considers briefly. At once, three things come to mind: Bene works for Byerly, Bene is fussy about who knows he's into men, and Bene's parents are insane so that fussiness likely runs very deep.

"Best not to say," he says gently. "But it's a very casual arrangement."

[bouchonne]

Any looseness or good humor that had emerged when they'd started inching away from this subject evaporates again. The tension returns to his face; his hands thread together, long fingers twisting themselves nearly into knots.

"I'm not - Shutting you out. There's nothing to be shut out of." Then - "I apologize for pressing you, before. I was wrong to do so."

[sulahnan]

It strikes her as a bit sad that apologies have been so few and far between that, much like love, she never learned how to deal with them. A dozen different responses make it no further than the back of her throat before she presses her lips into a tight line — a perfunctory facsimile of a smile — and nods once.

Rather than let the silence stretch out uncomfortably long, Athessa leans forward and nudges her glass in Byerly's direction. Pour, please.

[bouchonne]

By lets out a breath. Leans forward and pours. Then sits back and takes up his own glass, drinks deep.

Finally - "You haven't done anything wrong. I'm the one who does things wrong. You're fine."

post dream.

[hornswoggle]

I thought I'd stop in to get a look at you, [ is the greeting John offers, just over the threshold of the Diplomacy office. ] Make certain you woke without the eyepatch.

[sulahnan]

Athessa scoffs with the glass halfway to her lips.

"Please. You don't have a monopoly on doing things wrong." The mead isn't exactly how her grandmother made it, but it's pretty close. Considering she didn't have a recipe to work from, it's a win in her book.

[bouchonne]

Fine. A little gesture of his hand.

"In this, I mean."

[bouchonne]

I miss it.

[ Byerly's manner is winsome. ]

I looked so damned dashing. Almost as handsomely scruffy as you.

[ And he gestures to a chair with a small gesture - if Silver's just breezing by, he can ignore, but if he's staying longer, he can take it as an invitation. ]

[hornswoggle]

If you take to wearing one in public no one would be the wiser as to whether or not it's needed.

[ The invitation is taken; door closed behind him, seat claimed in the course of his reply. There is some minor pause while John arranges his crutch, slanting across one thigh. ]

Flattery aside, how has the day found you?

[bouchonne]

Dreadfully tired.

[ His lip curls up wryly. He rises as Silver sits and goes to his sidetable; his hand hovers over a carafe of tea, and then a bottle of brandy, waiting for the tilt of the man's head that will indicate which beverage is preferred. ]

It felt as though we slept a month, yet without a single rejuvenating benefit.

[hornswoggle]

Oh, don't say that. The memory of you in that eyepatch will be very fortifying for me going forward.

[ Then, smoothly— ]

Pour a generous splash of that into my tea cup, if you would.

[ It's that kind of morning. ]

[sulahnan]

A non-committal hmm sound.

"How is it?" She asks, looking up from her drink to raise her brows at Byerly. "I'm guessing this is one of those things that gets better with age, and this batch is only a couple months old, but..."

[bouchonne]

"A bit sweet," he answers bluntly. "You should let the primary fermentation go longer to get a dryer brew. Few off flavors, though, which is the primary issue with most meads."

And then another sip.

[bouchonne]

[ A wry smile. It is that kind of morning. ]

How's your captain's mood? I can't imagine he was well pleased waking up from that dream. [ Well. ] From either dream.

[sulahnan]

Athessa takes note, nodding, then... confusion.

"Dryer," she repeats. Squints slightly.

[bouchonne]

"Less sweet."

[sulahnan]

"It's made outta honey, though..."

Perhaps most notably: "And still liquid."

Yes, it is honestly confusing, but she is also being a little brat.

[bouchonne]

"Dear Bard-in-training," he says drolly, "you should learn how people describe wine."

[bouchonne]

[ Hm. ]

What's that face?

[bouchonne]

"What," Byerly says, even though he knows full well who Colin is sleeping with, "afraid I'll gossip?"

[altusimperius]

Mother's study.

[A slow, creeping horror begins to take over his face, which he keeps fixed firmly forward.]

That room.

[He pushes his hair back out of his face.]

It's real.

[keenly]

"It just isn't appropriate for me to say," Colin says with a shrug. "Though you can probably figure it out. I don't have that many friends."

[sulahnan]

"I'll just describe it like people. It'll be a charming eccentricity."

She takes another sip, smacks her lips quietly, and nods.

"Easy on the nose and legs that go all the way up."

[bouchonne]

[ He narrows his eyes slightly. ]

What, where she kept those prisoners?

[bouchonne]

"What makes it inappropriate?"