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

[cozen]

Really? An apostate? Or did he have a day pass?*

[ * He does not literally say "day pass." Something like it though. ]

[bouchonne]

The latter.

[ By smiles wryly at Bastien's rather wry, and not-at-all-modern, turn of phrase. ]

A good and dutiful fellow - of noble birth - who was a specialist in healing magic. He'd be sent out from his Circle to serve every now and again, and would be sure to get a drink before he went back home again.

[cozen]

It would be nice if they were all healers. I suppose that the healers can be possessed just as easily—but they are so much less intimidating in the meantime.

[bouchonne]

And just easier to get along with. With the exception of that Anders fellow, I've liked every healer I've known.

[cozen]

He was very, [ a search for the right word, ] passionate.

What happened to your friend, do you know?

[bouchonne]

Dead.

[ A grim little smile. ]

In the Blight.

[cozen]

Oh, By, I'm sorry.

[ He holds out an expectant hand for one of Byerly's, fingers giving a sedate and sad little wiggle of invitation. ]

[bouchonne]

[ That takes him aback. That simple expression of sympathy and sorrow. By looks up, genuinely startled, because -

Because what? That's the sort of kindness that Bastien gives. He takes a breath, and then reaches out to Bastien, taking his hand back. ]

It was a long time ago.

[cozen]

[ Bastien keeps hold of Byerly's hand, wrist resting on his knee, and nods. ]

Still shitty. All of it is.

[ He has a distant memory of the dragons attacking the Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux when he was twelve—distant in both time and physical space, he wasn't there. (Though he did tell people that was how his mother died, for a while.) A more recent one of rioters and locked gates and fires scattered through the city. Both of those together can't be a fraction of what the Blight was like in Denerim. ]

It doesn't seem fair for all of these problems to be so big and magical, when so many of us are only—

[ There's no good word for non-magical, so he shrugs and trusts Byerly to get it. ]

[bouchonne]

Yeah.

[ By smiles a little, sadly, and rests his chin on Bastien's other knee. ]

All we can do is - possibly - stab a thing. And even then, not terribly well.

[cozen]

[ A melancholy nod—but then he smiles, faintly. ]

Not all we can do. We cannot discount the power of your eyelashes. If we can get you close enough to bat them at Corypheus, who knows what might happen?

[bouchonne]

[ He brightens up enough to grin at that. There's a bit of bravado in that grin, but a bit of real amusement as well. ]

To say nothing of your flattering tongue. We just need you to stand on the battlefield and shower him with kindness.

[cozen]

[ Bastien laughs a little and squeezes the hand he’s holding. ]

Emerging into the world after a thousand years, with everything and everyone he knew gone… Maybe what he really needs is someone to understand him.

[bouchonne]

Poor thing!

[ He laughs back. ]

He's just lonely. He needs someone to tell him that his rippling abs are just so glorious.

[cozen]

Maybe we can find another one like him and make them fall in love.

[bouchonne]

Corypheus and Coryph-she-us.

[cozen]

[ This laugh isn't little, and Bastien caps it off by bending down and kissing the top of Byerly's head. ]

Brilliant. I will write it down, and we can present it to the other division heads.

[ He won't and they can't. He wouldn't enjoy making Yseult that miserable. ]

[bouchonne]

The war will be won in an instant.

[ But - ]

Are you afraid of our sweet mages?

[cozen]

[ He sobers up quickly enough. ]

Of course. I mean, not all of the time. But one bad mage could do so much more harm than one bad man with a knife, you know?

[ He sits up straight again. ]

And sometimes I am worried that they will hold the world hostage. Why wouldn't they? They are being asked to fight against the people who would give them more power.

[bouchonne]

[ By smiles at that, crookedly - grateful for Bastien's straight and blunt answer. ]

Yes. And the way they rumble amongst themselves - It really wouldn't be hard for them to lean on us. Make Riftwatch a new front of the mage rebellion.

[cozen]

And if they have the rifters in their corner, they have nearly all the anchors among them. Even if we could win without their magic, we need those. I’m not sure the Chantry—

[ Templars? Whoever made that call; Bastien doesn’t know. ]

—thought that one through.

[bouchonne]

Mm.

[ By pulls a face that's half troubled, half irritated. ]

You heard Kostos Averesch the other day, I suspect? Hard not to, of course. He makes quite a lot of noise for a rather soft-spoken man.

it burrrrns it burrrnnns

[cozen]

I heard.

[ Bastard, adds his tone.

He didn’t say anything—not about Circles and the rifters, and not when the way some people spoke to Byerly had him narrowing his eyes at the crystal. He’s not the kind of protective that entails rushing in to defend an adult man who’s handling himself just fine. He’s the kind that entails remembering. ]

He seems like the sort of fellow who likes kicking ant piles.

hee hee hee suffer

[bouchonne]

[ By shrugs in agreement. ]

Which I don't blame him for. Or particularly dislike him for, to be quite honest. I've rather a lot of hive-dirt on my own feet.

[ He drapes an arm over Bastien's leg. ]

What was interesting was watching how the ants swarmed. Especially how they swarmed on me. Petrana de Ceydoux - This was before our time, but she was removed from being head of Diplomacy. I'd assumed she'd quit, but when she came in and primly instructed me on how to do diplomacy, which apparently consists solely of giggling and speaking sweetly - contain your surprise, I nearly jumped out of my skin learning there was but a single type of diplomacy that can be done, it's so much simpler than I thought - I looked up what led to her departure. Turns out she was the one who handed over information that led to the mages striking.

[ A tap on his knee - ]

Don't rat me out, now, handing over sensitive information to you.

:’C

[cozen]

[ Bastien grins and echoes the tap with a knee bounce. ]

I will use it to start an Orlesian strike. No more work from us until we are allowed to paint the fortress sunrise orange.

[ It goes without saying, he assumes, that he would never rat Byerly out to anyone. ]

So she would have been on their side before the rifters were tied to them. I suppose that makes sense—selflessness, or guessing it was inevitable. Either way.