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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[sarcophage]

[Here, then: near Byerly's desk.

From his satchel he slips a well-worn book and pencil, and flips to an empty page.]

[bouchonne]

[ And Byerly keeps working for the next hour and then some, seeing if he can make Leander lose patience. ]

[sarcophage]

[Patience is rarely Leander's issue. Here he has his book to draw in, and almost uninterrupted focus on the man at his desk. It's clear the figures filling one page after another are of the Ambassador at work. Work itself, on the other hand—

After an hour and a half, roughly, Leander closes the book and stands.]

Forgive me, I've my duties to consider—another time, perhaps.

[bouchonne]

So soon?

[ Byerly's voice is predictably guileless as he looks up. ]

I should be wrapping up in another five minutes, no more.

[sarcophage]

Mmm, no, I believe I've humoured your unkindness long enough for one afternoon. If you'll excuse me—

[bouchonne]

Unkindness? Is this because I didn't offer you a drink?

[sarcophage]

[That warrants no response—not until Leander stops by the door to put away his book, and turns to ask,]

Was it you who took a shot at me? In the dream, at Skyhold.

[bouchonne]

[ Hm? That takes him by surprise. ]

I suppose it depends on what sort of shot you're talking about.

[sarcophage]

I'd narrow it down if I could. It hit me here, you see, [touching the back of his own skull,] and came out through my eye.

[bouchonne]

Did you die?

[sarcophage]

I believe I did.

[bouchonne]

Which version of you was this? The abomination, or whatever you were in the other dream? Assuming you weren't an abomination there as well.

[sarcophage]

I don't know. By then, everything had begun to smear together.

[bouchonne]

An impressive feat regardless. You're not an easy mosquito to swat.

[sarcophage]

Some people are less prone to dying than others.

[He tips a most shallow bow.]

I'll let you get on with it.

[bouchonne]

Was that really all that you came for?

[sarcophage]

Does it matter?

[bouchonne]

Yes.

[sarcophage]

Now that it's something you know you want.

[bouchonne]

[ Bitch please. ]

I know nothing of the sort. Knowing you, if there is something else, it's likely to just be catty nonsense.

[sarcophage]

Deciding you know something is not the same as knowing it. Now if you don't mind, I've work to do elsewhere.

[bouchonne]

[ A shrug. ]

If you want to see me beg, then prove yourself valuable sometime.

[sarcophage]

Please know that I mean no offence when I say your valuation is of no significance to me.

[Indeed, it's spoken plainly, no trace of scorn or flippancy. After a further tip of the head, he turns to depart.]

Enjoy the rest of your day, Ambassador.