crystal

[bouchonne]

FORM: Sending crystal
SENDER: Byerly
RECIPIENT: Everyone
NOTES: None

[ The tone here is quite amused, even if the topic is not particularly...amusing. ]

So, now that we've all woken up, I'm sure there's just one question on everyone's mind. What are we going to do with all you naughty little boys and girls who are dreaming about joining the Venatori?

Comments

[katabasis]

And what then?

[bouchonne]

[ A little sigh. ]

And then we watch them, Captain. I hope you're not thinking to clap them in irons.

[katabasis]

[Shorter tempered - which is a miracle; who knew there was much left to trim?:]

Your assistant could have dreamed up a crown to sit on his head. Why does it seem like I'm the only one who wouldn't plan on treating him like a prince?

[hassaran]

[ Byerly will see her head tilt, brows drawn in quizzically. ]

Are you angry that their dreamed treachery isn't being taken seriously, or that it's being considered at all?

[bouchonne]

[ By gives a little tilt of his head, wondering the same thing. ]

[katabasis]

[Somewhere, a pause. Maybe it's the span of time in which someone might rub their face with their hands. Abruptly—]

Wait.

[Then the connection is severed. How long does it take to cross from the Forces to the Diplomacy office? Not very.]

[hassaran]

[ Yseult is looking at the door when he enters, legs crossed at the knee and coffee cup held in both hands. She arches a brow. Well? ]

[katabasis]

[Well.

For just a moment as he passes through the door, the stormy set of Flint's attention catches on her - distracted, a line in his expression shifting as if in some way taken aback by an element of her appearance there though he'd known full well to expect her. Then it's folded away, crumpled and set somewhere else as promptly as it rose in the first place. His eye slides to Byerly. The door is pulled firmly shut.]

I trust your wife wasn't too mishandled by all of this.

[bouchonne]

No; she's quite a resilient woman. How about Mr Silver?

[ Byerly is Funny. ]

[hassaran]

[ For once, Yseult agrees. Not that she laughs, of course. But she doesn't give him a look, and instead continues to sip her coffee far too mildly. It's basically the same thing. ]

[katabasis]

[He snorts and produces a folded piece of papers from some pocket as he crosses the room - catching whatever chair is convenient and bringing it along with so he has somewhere to sit when he arrives there.]

I don't give two shits about who killed who or was betrayed or knighted a hero in a dream. What concerns me [is a hell of a word choice but there is something, here in this room, unspecific about his shortened temper—leashed short, some effort made to curb the boiling thing. Maybe the walk had done him good.] Is the effect. And how no crew in the world's mood has ever been improved by their troubles being made so directly light by their leadership. I guarantee you Rowntree isn't laughing.

Lend me a pen, [is for the piece of paper; it's a half written list of names.]

[bouchonne]

[ Dryly: ]

Rowntree also was rather famous during the war for the amount of Templar blood he spilled. And non-Templar blood. I know he's helpful enough to you, Captain Flint, but if he wanted to fuck off, it'd certainly make my job easier.

[ A pen is produced, and handed over. ]

[katabasis]

[The look Byerly receives in exchange is flat, held for a single unimpressed instant, and then reverts to the list where Flint scratches out a few additional lines.]

[hassaran]

You could say the same of half the company, including both of you.

[bouchonne]

I think it's a bit disingenuous to put the two of us in the same category of disreputable, Spymaster.

[ A drunken clown who married well isn't exactly equal to a pirate king. ]

Honestly, of those who "defected," I can think of only perhaps two or three where their desertion would be a net loss. [ Well, that's not really fair, and he realizes that after it's out of his mouth. So he amends: ] If their loyalty is already so tenuous that a bit of ridicule would send them packing.

[katabasis]

It won't happen today, and it won't happen because of this. It will happen because tomorrow they will find something real to be worried by and won't trust us with it. Or because the concerns they have already fed that dream, and by dismissing one we've dismissed the other.

[This without looking up. Scratch, scratch says the pen. When he's done, Flint slides the paper and the pen to Yseult so she might review and add to it.]

To say nothing of the damage an exodus would cause to the company. You may have no love for him, but I'd guess that even Leander has friends.

[bouchonne]

Like Matthias, for example? Who he's twisting to be just like him?

[ There's a bit of heat to that; Byerly tries to dismiss it immediately afterwards with a wave of his hand, embarrassed at having revealed a bit too much of his anxiety there. ]

I'm sorry to reveal this to you, Captain Flint, but there are rather more people like me in Riftwatch than there are people like you. Humorlessness is a comfort to a cold few.

[hassaran]

[ Yseult takes the paper and pen both, adding a few notes of her own. ]

Are you proposing some course of action, Commander, or do you simply find comfort in speaking your fears aloud?

[katabasis]

[A cutting look. Or a cut one; it's hard to say whether he's offensively digging in his heels or offended by it—]

We make our list of names. Identify those on it with the most sway and make our reassurances directly in whatever form suits them.

Not personally, [he hastens to add.] The last thing we want is for every person in this place to think they have our ear and can shout in it as they please. An officer of the watch or a liaison appointed for each division. Someone whose judgement you trust.

[bouchonne]

[ A little scoff. ]

Teach them that the more they seem to be on the verge of abandoning their posts, the more attentive we are, and the more concessions they can earn.

[katabasis]

—Would be criticism with merit, were I suggesting we work with all of them and not just some.

[hassaran]

You would attempt to improve trust among the company, and trust in our leadership, by having unofficial mouthpieces secretly whisper our intentions in the ears of a chosen few who dreamed themselves traitors?

[bouchonne]

[ By points his finger at Yseult in the universal gesture for what she said. ]

[katabasis]

[It's a fine point with which to prod an ill tempered man into snarling. Flint looks at her, then back at Byerly, and then something does give—

He laughs, all bafflement. And then again as his hand rises to rub the headache high in his forehead. With remarkably good humor, given all the bared teeth he'd blown in with—]

Maker's breath, have neither of you ever managed people you weren't there to discard?

[hassaran]

[ ...no. ]

[ Still: ] Do you often find patronizing them effective?