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

[saam]

[She recognizes his voice when she hears it, and her expression brightens immediately, from where she was, moments ago, staring at a wine bottle with some consternation.]

Ilias! The one with a sense of humor. Come here, I'm trying to find you something to drink. This is the diluted stuff, right?

[She tosses him the wine bottle. Think fast.]

[libratus]

That's--

[ flying through the air directly at him, too fast for him to actually thank the Maker for the amount of vanity-induced staff training he's done in his life. The noise he makes, though slight, is not terrifically dignified. But his palm hits the underside of the glass, and Ilias manages to get his forearms under the rest in time to narrowly avert introducing it to the stonework.

Pauses there, like it might break anyway just to spite him. ]

That's fine, thank you.

[ Polite to his dying day. ]

[saam]

[Eshal's laugh cracks like timber split in half. She makes up the distance between them in a few strides, and then both hands are on Ilias' shoulders.] That was glorious! And your face! I didn't mean to shock you, but, fuck! You rose right up to it, eh? Good job!

[libratus]

[ Ilias looks a little like he wants to die, but tolerantly so. ]

I'll add it to my resume: middlingly proficient catcher of wine bottles.

Shall we sit?

[saam]

[She assumes that's his normal expression; it's cool, tons of people look like that! Especially around here.]

Don't say that; the kitchens'll snap you up, and I'll never get to work with you.

[She waves him toward the desk, a few mismatched chairs shoved toward it. For herself, she's got no intention of seeming overly officious (that can be Byerly's job, if he wants it). She sits on one of the chairs in front of the desk, rather than the one behind it.]

Wanted to talk to you about Chantry shit. Dunno if you read my resume, but I'm ex-Qun. Chantry and mages are a hole in my, uh, it's something I haven't got the strongest hold on, I'll admit.

[libratus]

[ The informality is-- it's fine. Unexpected. Less unexpected than a flying wine bottle, though, which he sets neatly upon the desk as he settles. ]

Of course. Perhaps that is a place to start all the same. I understand mages are regarded quite-- ah, differently in the Qun.

[ One hears horror stories, etc. ]

[saam]

[Eshal holds up one hand, palm open, something like forestalling questions and an apology all at once.] I left the Qun for a few reasons. That was one of them. [It wasn't... at the time. But now that she's seen the wider world, and how happy and gentle Mages can be when their eyes aren't sewn shut, she's retroactively added it.]

[History is a story you tell yourself.]

I've no interest in enslaving anyone that way-- that's what it is, really. It's sick.

[libratus]

[ Ilias nods; withholding judgement becomes second nature, in his line of work, but in this instance— ]

I am glad to hear you think so. Some of the others may need more than words to convince them, but you don't strike me as the sort for whom action is a problem.

The southern Chantry is, perhaps, the most conservative outside of the Qun when it comes to treatment of mages. Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him, etc. — Isaac and Julius may be your best resources on that subject in Orlais and Ferelden, respectively. Nevarra is more liberal, but still in agreement with the Divine more than Tevinter.

[saam]

[She waves her hand.] I can only say the truth, and do what I'd to anyway to support it. There's a limited amount of time and energy worth spending on changing the minds of folk who ought to be on my side anyway.

[But, to Ilias' point.]

What I'm curious about-- and those divisions are important, yeah, but what I wanna know is, how much does the Chantry bow to the poor? Obviously they say they don't. But if there was, say, an upswing Riftwatch's popularity among the common people, enough that it looked bad that the Chantry didn't support us...?

[Do you see where this is going...]