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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[archademode]

[At the words ‘deliciously interesting’ there’s a faint noise from Gabranth. Not deliberately critical, mind, but—

Byerly had given him permission to be a touch more candid, hadn’t he.]

Skills?

[Narrow shoulders, frail hands and all— Gabranth can’t imagine him out there slinging a sword. Magic, maybe?]

[bouchonne]

[ A laugh. ]

Skills, yes, good fellow, skills. A man doesn't become head of Diplomacy without developing a gift of gab. And a man doesn't develop the gift of gab unless there's some reason to do so. A comfortable nobleman doesn't learn to charm, does he?

[bouchonne]

[ A little drolly - far too humorously, given the topic - ]

Apologies. Too blunt?

[bouchonne]

I shall be there anon.

[ And, indeed, he shows up anon, Whiskey trotting cheerfully at his side, tail wagging in anticipation of seeing Uncle Soft-Heart. ]

[cozen]

[ The door is cracked and swings further open without any need to knock—a little from the tell-tale clack of dog nails on stone, a little from Bastien knowing By's gait. And because his priorities are in order, there's barely a clear flash of Bastien's face before he's on his knees to greet Whiskey.

It's only after several seconds that he looks up, still petting her with both hands, to look at Byerly, bare-faced and— ] Affreux. That is the next bad news. I am sure my upper lip did not look so strange before. Do not try to hide your revulsion, it will only make me feel worse.

[ There's a bit of amusement peeking through the play-acted misery. He's fine. ]

[bouchonne]

No.

[ Byerly staggers back. His back hits the wall, and his hand comes out to scrabble at it for support. ]

No.

[ The other hand comes up and clutches at his heart. And, bless him, he actually manages to force himself to go pale, his countenance blanching as his breathing stutters and fails. ]

Bastien, you - What did they do to you?

[archademode]

Head of—

[Excuse him, Byerly. Give him a moment, if you'd be so kind.


Actually, on second thought, he might have to call you back. That or he's died, because it's now startlingly quiet over there.

Probably the death thing.]

[archademode]

[Ah, there he is. Still alive.]

...no, more often than not a lifetime of comfort leads to an indolent result.

[cozen]

They said there was no other way. No one else could play the part. For the war.

[ His solemn affect his dampened somewhat by the fact that Whiskey is snuffling his ear, but his eyes shine with unshed tears just the same. ]

We must all make sacrifices.

[bouchonne]

Mm.

[ His voice rich with amusement: ]

You didn't know? No wonder you were cross.

[bouchonne]

But this, Bastien.

[ His voice is weak. Trembling. ]

This is too great.

[cozen]

If I could take it back...

[ He gives Whiskey an extra-good skritch between the shoulder blades in parting before rising to his feet and stepping closer. Mostly because he wants a better look at Byerly's performance. It's great. ]

You have to promise me not to hate them. They were only trying to do what was right.

[archademode]

[The words Lord Rutyer almost slip out. He bites his tongue to tamp down on it.

If he'd ever managed to overcome his own tendency for offending those he ought not to, then this is its triumphant return by Gabranth's own estimation.]

You misunderstood. I was not incensed.

[He was, though. He definitely was.]

[bouchonne]

You thought it was merely a fellow soldier foisting work off on you, rather than an assignment. I'd be cross.

[archademode]

Hardly a soldier.

[...is that not also technically an insult, Gabranth?]

Had I truly been unwilling, I could easily have denied you.

[And the orphans. And their very small flower crowns.]

Forgive my ignorance. Adjustment to this world has taxed more than I care to admit.

[bouchonne]

Well, you'd best be careful in the future. If you'd denied me, I'd have had you summarily executed for abandonment of duties.

[ And then, because Gabranth is so comically serious, By feels that he must be kind and amend: ]

Just kidding. It'd just be a lashing.

[ ...well, okay, semi-kind. ]

[archademode]

[His instincts are entirely correct. Between Barrow and Byerly, consider lashings now filed away under things that Definitely Do Happen around here.]

I did not think you the type to rely on bold measures.

[Most people hire someone else on for that. Like say, a Judge.]

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly steps forward to meet him, hands groping at hands, desperately grabbing for Bastien. (Bastien's performance is great, too.) ]

Who was it? Give me their names again. I must sear them into my memory.

[bouchonne]

Ah, Maker, preserve my wicked heart from honest ones.

[ He's laughing. ]

I'm joking, dear fellow, in truth I am. No hand would be laid upon you. The discipline of this organization is nearly nonexistent, and we'd fracture to pieces if we tried to actually impose any rules.

[cozen]

[ There is some Very Serious Hand Clutching. ]

Amador said it had to be done. Edgard held the blade. And Nikos Averesch— [ the worst crime of all; he needs a moment to gather himself to say it ] —Nikos Averesch seemed to think it was funny.

[archademode]

[Yet he’d been told— ah. Foolish him, it seems.]

How do you guard yourselves from injudiciousness if you enforce so little?

[Far too transparent and protective besides, he sounds more concerned than anything else, if his unmasked voice is any indication.]

[bouchonne]

One might argue that we don't. That we're all a grand mess. Does that distress you?

[altusimperius]

Not inaccurate, I guess.

[He sounds sad to admit it.]

[archademode]

...no. [He isn’t lying, in fact.]

I’ve seen enough now to know the majority of work here is done with earnest intent. Your means might not be entirely to my taste but—

[Well, it’s his duty to worry anyway, isn’t it?]

You seem capable enough.

[Watch out for this unprecedented level of praise, wow.]

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly lifts a trembling hand to Bastien's upper lip. And then, when he touches the naked skin, he bursts into tears. Real ones! Not a full waterfall, but he gets a few very respectable drops rolling down his cheeks. ]

Bastien!