diplomacy, gird your loins.

[bouchonne]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Byerly and Eshal.
RECIPIENT: All y'all
NOTES: Blue is Byerly, red is Eshal.

Bonsoir, Riftwatch. I have some dreadful news for you all.

[ Byerly’s voice sounds a bit dry. And characteristically dramatic. ]

My dear comrade and equal, would you like to tell them?

It's not dreadful, get over yourself. Anyway, Diplomacy has two heads, because we're better than the lot of them. Right?

Oh, yes. It’s widely acknowledged as a show of faith to appoint two people to do the job normally done by one. A task given only to truly quality prospects.

Exactly.

[ A sigh. ]

My esteemed self and this esteemed lady have been appointed joint heads of Diplomacy. She, being a decent and righteous soul, has volunteered to hear any and all complaints that might be made about this decision.

Yep. Love to meet the rest of you, honestly. Come by the head office, any time. I'll supply the whiskey.

[ Byerly lifts an eyebrow at her; he’d expected a protest to him volunteering her for that thankless duty. But, well, if she’s willing to be the goat here, let her be the goat. A shrug. That’s it. Meet your new overseers. ]

Comments

[bouchonne]

Ah, but no one gets pleasure from fucking, do they.

[katabasis]

Perhaps it would be best if Eshal deals with any business your division might have in Tevinter.

[bouchonne]

Why, my dear captain? Do you think her more easily moved about by the sea winds than I am? I know it is a sailor's habit to assume he can master the unknown, but heed the fact that you're a-harbor now.

[katabasis]

I think she may have a clearer vision of Tevinter's eagerness to ruin everything it touches.

[bouchonne]

Based on what knowledge of her?

[katabasis]

She speaks Qunlat and is over the age of eleven, to start.

[bouchonne]

Ah, so you're looking for someone you can trust to properly detest them?

[katabasis]

Yes.

[Well that's blunt.]

[bouchonne]

[ An amused, surprised snort. Unexpected. ]

Well, don't you worry your bald head, Captain dear. I am a misanthrope of the first order; you can trust me to loathe all. Tevinter included.

[katabasis]

['Trust you,' he specifically does not snort back.]

How comforting.

[bouchonne]

I live to serve.

[katabasis]

Consider quieting that impulse.

[bouchonne]

Ah, but it's a hunger in me. It eats at me as your spite eats at you.

[katabasis]

[Driving forward as if he'd said nothing feels like the better option.]

It's an unfit master for this business.

[bouchonne]

[ counting that as a win thx ]

The desire to be of service? How so?

[katabasis]

I expect you will eventually find yourself in a situation where you will be obligated to refuse someone. It will come more easily with practice.

[bouchonne]

And yet they will feel as though I have been of service even so. That is the heart of diplomacy.

[katabasis]

[Now he does snort. The idea of Byerly Rutyer making anyone feel something past like they've been pummelling themselves seems unlikely.]

[bouchonne]

Is that funny to you?

[katabasis]

Spoken by anyone else? No.

[bouchonne]

Have I never been of service to you?

[saam]

Nice boys don't kiss and tell my service record.

[katabasis]

[Rattled off, some automatic knee jerk backtalk for the sake of backtalk--]

Then it's convenient that I never claimed to be such a thing.

[saam]

Bet you say that to all the girls.

[katabasis]

[Eshal, please.]