crystal

[bouchonne]

FORM: Everyone, loudly, obnoxiously
SENDER: Byerly
RECIPIENT: LITERALLY EVERYONE
NOTES: Birthdays

Dearest Riftwatch!

[ If By sounds like he's announcing something momentous, it's because he is. ]

Do you smell something stirring in the air? Something sweet? Something glorious? Do the birds sing to you, saying, the day is nearly here? Oh, Riftwatch, if they do not, it's because you're not listening. Because the birds, the sky, the trees, the shivering leaves all have one announcement to make.

And that is this:

It is Sonia Barra's birthday.

Please dunk her head in a cold lake in celebration.

Comments

[mereandrastianism]

[She takes a seat, smoothing out her skirts, and gives her hand a glance at his question. Her gloves feel a bit more prominent in that moment.]

A good question. I'll find out when their letters reach me, I suppose.

[Betrys is careful to keep her voice light, her expression innocuous. There's little doubt that Mama's worried and angry about the entire thing--she certainly wasn't happy upon Betrys' departure--but there's no need to air such things to the head of one's department.]

Tell me, were you informed as part of your Riftwatch duties, or has the gossip spread so quickly?

[bouchonne]

[ He presses a fingertip to his lips. ]

Come now, my lady; allow a fellow to retain a little mystique, hm?

[ The answer: Both. ]

[mereandrastianism]

I suppose I'll have to.

[On this, she's not overly willing to push--it's relatively unimportant, considering how little she can do about Ostwick from this distance.]

It's kind of you to see me this afternoon, Serah Rutyer; I'm sure you have plenty of work before you. I was hoping you might be able to tell me something of what my work for Riftwatch might entail.

[bouchonne]

I suppose that will depend primarily upon you, my lady.

[ He spreads his hands easily. ]

Tell me of yourself - your skills, your passions. I understand you have scholarly leanings, no?

[mereandrastianism]

I've done my share of dabbling.

[Rules of her particular corner of society: show interest, but not too much. Acknowledge your skills, but carefully.]

I have some interest in the Chant, but I've studied fairly widely.

[bouchonne]

Then perhaps your passions will lie with our Research team.

[mereandrastianism]

Perhaps. But I think I could be of use to the Diplomacy team as well. I'm not unfamiliar with conversation, nor with society.

[bouchonne]

[ Thoughtfully: ]

Diplomacy is the best team, with the best people, and the best leadership.

[mereandrastianism]

I don't doubt it.

[No reason to thus far, and certainly no reason to disagree with its head.]

[bouchonne]

Well, we should be glad to have someone like you, I should think. Your title alone would be a most welcome addition to our pool of resources; a title with skills behind it would truly gladden my heart.

[mereandrastianism]

Then I think we'll work well together, Serah Rutyer. I've had a chance to unpack, so I'll be available when you have something for me.

[bouchonne]

[ He raises a finger. ]

Perhaps a task already. Unless you need time to recover? Regain your energy from your travels?

[mereandrastianism]

If it isn't too taxing, I think I can manage. What do you need?

[bouchonne]

A list.

[ He tilts his head very slightly. ]

Tell me about the Marcher lords. I want to know who listens to whom and who's enemies with whom.

[mereandrastianism]

[She raises a brow, amused.]

You want gossip.

[bouchonne]

[ An unapologetic shrug. ]

It so rarely happens that one finds employment doing what one loves. Imagine it, my lady - I, Denerim's greatest gossip-monger, invited to work for peace by collecting all the juciest rumors. I'm the happiest man alive.

[mereandrastianism]

How nice for you. Is that what brought you to Riftwatch?

[bouchonne]

Hm, not exactly. I came to Riftwatch, rather, after I was driven from Ferelden for killing a companion of mine after an argument over a bar tab.

[ Half-true. Truth isn't the point; the point is watching her closely, to see how shocked and horrified she is by the scandal. This is, after all, a scandalous organization. One must have the stomach for it. ]

[mereandrastianism]

[Both brows lift at that, her mouth staying in that little sort-of smile--but perhaps a little strained now.]

I see. [Perhaps it was an accident. Surely Riftwatch wouldn't take an unrepentant murderer and raise him to such heights.] I'm sorry to hear that.

[bouchonne]

[ His expression stays quite casual - save for his eyes. His eyes are sharp and watchful. ]

Sorry? Why sorry?

[mereandrastianism]

[She schools her face in a moment, something now blandly sympathetic. This, she'd guess, is a test, and it's one she intends to pass.]

It sounds a difficult way to lose a friend, Serah.

[bouchonne]

[ His face is still that bland, casual nothing; there's no indication of whether she's succeeded or failed. Until, after a moment: ]

A companion, I said; not a friend. The fellow in question had but one friend, you see, who superseded all others - a rather tall and egotistical fellow in Tevinter.

[ The slight gesture of his hand takes in the whole of Corypheus' considerable length. ]

But what of you? Is the shard the only reason you are here, good lady?

[mereandrastianism]

Ah. [Not, she thinks, a good sign, but she'll be damned if disappointment in herself escapes her eyes or mouth.] Then I'm sorry to hear he had such poor taste.

[Betrys glances down at her hand--folded with the other one in her lap--to give herself a moment's thought. When she looks back up at Byerly, it's with a shrug.]

I don't suppose you have a shard, Serah? They become painful if one doesn't take care.

[bouchonne]

[ On the contrary; the fact that he volunteered information rather than obfuscating further was certainly a sign of approval. Not that anything he does is remotely transparent. ]

No indeed. I have not been so...blessed? Cursed? Cursed, I think; the pain seems dreadful, and then you get dragged to the worst places to close up those rifts.