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

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly's scoff is easy, cheerful, and not in the least sentimental. ]

Nonsense! It was a pleasure. She's a delightful woman, to the point where I must question whether you're actually related.

[ His tone is jocular rather than cruel. ]

[thereneverwas]

[Jocularity notwithstanding, Barrow has a hard time matching it; his resulting laugh sounds a little forced, drained of energy.]

[bouchonne]

[ All right. Byerly changes tacks. ]

How are you doing?

[thereneverwas]

Well, [dismissively,] you know. [Fine, fine, everything's great,]

didn't work. [and he's feeling sooooo normal and healthy about it]

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly hesitates. ]

Meaning...You still require...?

[thereneverwas]

Mmhmm.

[bouchonne]

Ah.

[ That's...Well. A death sentence in and of itself, isn't it? A crueler one in some ways. Better to die quick than go slow, losing your mind. ]

So then what's next?

[thereneverwas]

[Barrow increasingly fails to keep the bitterness out of his voice:]

I go and fuck myself, I s’pose.

[bouchonne]

Do you have a source for the stuff? A...non-Templar source?

[thereneverwas]

Been getting a supply through Riftwatch for some time now, so.

[He snorts.]

Guess it'll be you lot holding my leash from now on.

[A moment's pause, in which it occurs to him that Byerly is not at fault for this-- that no one is, really--]

...sorry.

[bouchonne]

Maker, don't apologize. You should be throwing a tantrum over it.

[thereneverwas]

[An odd laugh, both genuine and frayed at the edges, threatening to come apart.]

Don't think any of us have time for that.

[bouchonne]

Barrow, mate -

[ It’s a bit of an odd word in his aristocratic accent, but it’s heartfelt. ]

You’ve more than earned it. You did a hard and painful thing and just got slapped in the face by the Maker for your troubles. I’d get falling down drunk if I were you.

[thereneverwas]

[A chuckle similar to the one before, but perhaps a bit sadder.]

I know better than to request your company doing so,

[An uncomfortable pause— what is he supposed to do with the way he feels?—]

…but thanks, mate. All the same.

[bouchonne]

Visit to a brothel?

[thereneverwas]

Ah yes, let me just pay a fee to depress the fine working women of Kirkwall.

It's all right. Really. I'll cope.