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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[bouchonne]

No one emerges; instead, a voice calls out, "Come in." It is, evidently, a casual enough establishment.

The man sitting at the desk is a lean fellow with a permanently sardonic air. An eyebrow goes up at the state of the woman's undress, but it's more wry than judgmental.

"Have a seat," he invites her, his voice mild.

[truthtied]

"Thank you," she says, with a gracious smile. She crosses the room and takes the seat in front of his desk, as elegant as if she were in a full ballgown rather than a bathing suit of primary colors. "I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me. Would your title be Ambassador or do you go by another?"

[bouchonne]

"Oh, just call me Byerly," he says, waving his hand slightly dismissively. "I'm just pretending at ambassadorship, and titles sound ridiculous on me. Byerly, By, or Rutyer, if you're feeling irritated at my nonsense."

He rises briefly to add a bit of wood to the fire. She looks cold. Then he returns to his desk and offers, "Something to drink?"

[truthtied]

"Byerly then, so long as you call me Diana." And her smile softens a little when he builds up the fire. Diana might be able to set aside much pain and discomfort in the interest of pushing forward, but still, she isn't enjoying this new sensitivity to the cold.

"Thank you, but no," she says with a shake of her head, "I am still getting accustomed to the changes of this world. Adding alcohol to the mix feels as though it would be courting trouble."

[bouchonne]

"What's wrong with trouble?" he says lightly, but not too flirtatiously, because she's frankly a bit too bare to be flirted with safely.

And so - "Well, regardless, it's a pleasure to meet you, Diana. How can I help you in your adjustment to this place?"

[truthtied]

She arches a brow at him, "I think I've had enough of it for the time being."

And so indeed. Diana crosses her legs, folding her hands on her knee, all business. "To begin with, I would like to understand what Riftwatch's standing is within the immediate community. I understand the Free Marches have no single ruling body? Is Riftwatch beholden to Kirkwall itself or some other ruler?"

[bouchonne]

"We cooperate with Kirkwall," he answers. "But we're an independent organization. Allied with - but not subservient to - the Inquisition."

[truthtied]

"Would it be correct to assume that we are financially independent of the Inquisition and Kirwall as well?"

[bouchonne]

A nod, and a shrug. "For the most part. Many of their donors are ours. But we get no real assistance from them."

[truthtied]

"For good or ill." Independence can come with a price, after all. She doesn't know how big the Inquisition is or what the existence of Riftwatch and the Inquisition mean for the wider world politically. Frankly there's too much she doesn't know.

"I imagine I'll have plenty of reading to do before I'm of any use to you," Diana says, pushing her hair back with a rueful smile, "Do we have any political allies I should be aware of in particular? And it occurs to me that I haven't a clue what etiquette is expected."