weighed and measured in kind

[rowancrowned]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Thranduil
RECIPIENT: A L L
WHAT: Please don't riot about the phylacteries. (yet)
WHEN: Post-negotiations.
WHERE: Gallows! 
NOTES: After this. Specifically, after Iorveth does a property damage and before anyone else can try that.

[ thranduil's voice is tight, if still somehow pleasant: ]

I understand that there are a great number of questions and concerns at the moment regarding the Inquisition's proposed policy of phylacteries for Rifters.

If there are concerns that anyone would wish to make known through official channels, the Research Division has been appointed to handle the research of this new, proposed policy. [ very pointed stressing. ] My office is where it has always been, and any concerns should be turned into the box reserved for correspondence of that nature.

I would remind all Rifters that we are yet considered a single unit. [ remember the curfew? ] That poor behavior will affect all of us- indeed, anyone currently afflicted with a Shard. I would advise them that this is never as true as it is now, and that consequences for actions taken in the heat of the moment are the same as those made when rational.

Comments

[exsecutus]

If you've been captured.

[A similar voice, accented slightly differently, more Nevarran by the way of Antiva--]

And your captor asks you to choose. Will you and your family be beaten tonight, or will another man be beaten. And you try to argue, that no one need be beaten, but eventually, you give in and choose to save your family.

The other man can resent you all he pleases for your choice. But the person at fault is still the man distributing the beatings in the first place.

Keep perspective.

private ;

[rowancrowned]

I do not find fault with the pragmatism of your choices. You have saved the greatest number of people and offered up a group who may well disappear when the last rift is closed.

I assume the perspective means you will oppose any efforts to create phylacteries for Rifters?

same ;

[exsecutus]

[Andraste's sagging tits. Right. His choices.]

Collecting votes?

[rowancrowned]

My position is not an elected one.

[ cosima told him all about democracy. ]

Measuring the mood.

[exsecutus]

I don't mean for your fucking position-- [much disdain] --I mean for whatever it is you think will be happening next.

You don't want to know my mood.

[rowancrowned]

You make it clear enough.

No. If anything my attempt at calming everyone involved has only proved that those who wish to rebel cannot even choose a target at which to aim their anger. I doubt I would have much luck uniting them.

[exsecutus]

Someone will. Not thoroughly. But enough that they will become a liability. Maybe one of your number, or two, maybe someone else. They'll choose the target, ready the bolt, wind it up, and decimate.

Depending on the target, I won't be sorry to see it.