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

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[cozen]

[ Bastien’s smile shows some teeth for a moment, appreciatively, but he shakes his head. ]

You were you. You were perfect.

[ This time of year it’s awfully warm to be cuddling too close to someone else under blankets, but he does it anyway. ]

What sort of Fade spirit do you think would make a dream like that? Faith?

[bouchonne]

Was this dream before you were rescued, or was it after?

[ Perhaps Byerly's eternally cold feet are actually a blessing in a situation like this. When he nestles them against Bastien's calves, they might actually have a bit of a cooling effect. ]

[cozen]

[ It is a blessing. It will delay the amount of time it takes Bastien to decide to shove the blanket down to their middles by at least a whole minute. ]

Before. The last one before.

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly hums, performatively thoughtful, a parody of a theologian. ]

I see, I see. Faith certainly seems possible. And yet faith is a chaste spirit, by all accounts, and your dream sounds thoroughly erotic.

[cozen]

Mm, good point. You were incredibly naked,

[ Bastien says, because it would be embarrassing to admit that he had a dream about Byerly naked, wet, glistening, performing acrobatic feats, and giving him things and that it wasn't really all that sexy. Only sweet. Comforting.

He's not nearly ready to be an old man who just wants to sit next to his lover and give him toothless kisses on the back of his loose-skinned hand. ]

So I suppose desire strikes again.

[bouchonne]

No doubt.

[ Byerly's smile softens as he brushes his fingertips again over Bastien's lips. ]

Why do you suppose it is that we talk so rarely of the spirits of Love? They hardly ever seem mentioned in folklore, or in dogma. It's odd, considering how powerfully they move us.

[cozen]

Because it's dull, [ is not arch; he's smiling warmly at the idea that that might have been the responsible spirit. ] If you're not in it. We even thought we would be bored with ourselves by now. Unless you have it go wrong, it's all quiet dreams and gentle stories.

[bouchonne]

[ He hums. ]

Who would have thought that that would be better than dramatic anguish?

hi sorry

[cozen]

No one. We are the very first in the world to learn it.

[ He squirms his way over to kiss Byerly on the tip of his nose. ]

And if we try to tell everyone else, they will never believe us.

[bouchonne]

[ He grins in response, and leans up to bop his nose against Bastien's. ]

Of course, maybe it is boring for them. It's only fun for the lucky man who gets to be with you.

[cozen]

[ Flatterer. But Bastien only grins, tired and pleased, and burrows his face in to push between Byerly's cheek and the pillow, to insist on talking into his hidden ear for no particular reason. ]

I'm happy.

[ Byerly asked him to tell him when he was, years ago now. Bastien does it less often now—it seems less necessary now to reassure By quite so frequently that he's not fucking anything up. But sometimes it's particularly true and needs saying. ]

But I never want to see a beach again unless you are also there, either half or fully naked, your choice, and there is a blanket and something to eat that I did not have to catch myself.

[bouchonne]

[ Hold on - Byerly comes more fully awake, delighted by this news - ]

Did you actually fish successfully?

[dastardly]

Something like delight blooms on Josias' face as the first syllables of Antivan cross Byerly's lips. As he continues talking, however, the expression becomes more rigid, no longer genuine, held in place so as not to appear rude. A little hypocritical, it seems, towards anyone struggling with the one language he's fluent in.

"Surely the two go hand in hand," he replies in Antivan, and though his words come faster and more confidently, it doesn't seem to alleviate much of his general awkward demeanour. "All I've seen most ambassadors do is drink and gamble."

here he is! The Other One. or The First One? Is The Other One The Other One? it's Eggs Benedict

[altusimperius]

[with great urgency,]

Byerly.

[bouchonne]

Yes, what else?

[ Spoken with the slightly distracted air of someone working on something, who's half-listening for some new details. ]

[altusimperius]

Whoever you've been talking to, it-- it isn't me.

[he sounds like he's having an existential crisis, if that could be communicated via tone.]

He's talking to Bastien too.

[bouchonne]

What?

[ His attention is now more fully on Benedict. And he asks the obvious, if not particularly clever, question: ]

What - Then who is he?

[altusimperius]

I don't know.

[bouchonne]

[ Ah. Hm. ]

He says he's traveled back from a grim future.

[altusimperius]

[And you believed him? is the first thing Benedict wants to ask, but is caught moments before he can undermine the integrity of someone who might be... also himself. If there's even a chance. And yet,]

that's absurd.

[bouchonne]

Is it? I recall hearing of a Tevinter mage who did something akin to this, towards the beginning of the war.

[altusimperius]

[YEAH WELL,

it still seems deeply unlikely to him that he would have been the one delivering the message, but Byerly has a point.]

...well then,

[he searches his mind for a moment,]

...ask him what he did about. The Problem.

[bouchonne]

The problem?

[ What problem? ]

[altusimperius]

[this is TOP SECRET FOR BENEDICTS ONLY]

Just-- ask him, and if it's really me, he'll know what it means.

[bouchonne]

Hmm.