[closed]

[katabasis]

WHO: Yseult, Thranduil, Flint
WHAT: Interpersonal conflict management
WHEN: Time is fake
WHERE: the... Gallows??
NOTES: Keep it action spammy; turn order is whatever makes the most sense. See here for context.

[In the Forces division office, a conversation is already in progress:]

—Which is evidently why he felt the pressing urge to come forward now, months after the fact. A report will have to be made and one of us should speak to Rutyer, that much seems obvious. Beyond that point however, it appears we have some decisions to make.

Comments

[katabasis]

[A flat look.]

Leander.

[But she has a point.]

[hassaran]

[ what ]

A few months in a cell might discourage whatever impulse motivated [ a vague flap of her wrist ] any of this.

[katabasis]

[a snort]

And have Fabria in this office every other day until he is released?

What good is he to us confined? Give the man a perfunctory beating, have him pay some sum if Rutyer desires it, or suggest to Lady Asgard she find some new assistant, and be done with it.

[bouchonne]

[ If Byerly were in control of the universe, he would swing into the office at the perfect, most opportune moment, utterly aware of the topic they're discussing, ready with a pithy comment. He would cock an eyebrow quite wisely, and say something devastatingly clever, and Flint and Yseult and Thranduil would be rocked back on their heels with just how suave Byerly Rutyer is.

But he is not in charge of the universe. And so, instead, he wanders into the office rather absently during the last few words of Flint's last comment, going right for the wine cabinet, and pours himself a glass, and only then does he look round to realize all three of them seem to be in some sort of earnest conclave. And the pithy comment he has is this: ]

Say, have you all started hanging out without me?

[hassaran]

[ Yseult half-shrugs, a quick tilt of her head to one side and back that says quite clearly it's not my office. ]

You think there would be fewer complaints about a beating?

[ She sounds skeptical. It's likely any punishment will result in some sort of whining, and she isn't inclined to allow that to drive their choice, but any intention of spelling that out is cut short by Byerly's extremely casual arrival. ]

Apparently not.

[katabasis]

[There is no one to fix with a silent, long-suffering look and so instead:]

You're early.

[bouchonne]

[ By looks at Flint, and looks at Yseult, and looks at Thranduil (and muses very briefly on what the man must do to his hair to keep it so silky in these conditions; By can scarcely keep his from frizzing, and his doesn't even hang over his ears) - and, well. He folds his arms, holding the wineglass rather insouciantly, and says: ]

Apparently. So what have I done that's newsworthy this time?

[ He knows what it looks like when he's walked into a room where people were discussing him. It happens a lot. ]

[katabasis]

Gotten in the way of Leander's knife, apparently.

[bouchonne]

[ Of all the things he expected - He blinks, and looks amongst the three of them to evaluate their seriousness. They - seem to be serious. How did they even find out? Alexandrie, perhaps? Though it seems unlike her to sell out her other pet mage...

Or the man himself? Paranoid that Byerly would deploy his letter of confession? But why, and why now? Is the man planning something? A strike against By's power, or sowing discord in their ranks? Paranoia ripples up and down his spine. ]

Hm. Not news, then, since news is usually new.

[katabasis]

[There are clever responses for that. He clips through them in favor of:]

Why is the first we're hearing of it?

[hassaran]

And why are we not hearing it from you?

[bouchonne]

Because it had seemed to me to be a private matter.

[ His eyes narrow very slightly. ]

Apparently, someone does not agree with me. Who is it, who's brought this before you?

[katabasis]

[Blithely ignoring that question for now.]

How serious was the wound?

[bouchonne]

[ His lips thin - then relax. He shrugs, and then sets his glass aside - and starts removing his jerkin, then the shirt below it. As long as nobody stops him, he'll bare the wound - the pink scar marking something that was not life-threatening, but certainly not pleasant, either. ]

[katabasis]

[Following some clinical observation of that pink scar:]

Do you believe he intends you any further trouble, or was this the end of it?

[bouchonne]

[ That's a mildly encouraging question. Sounds less like Flint - or one of the others - is going to try to use this against him.

Now that his shirt's off, he makes no motion to replace it. Instead, he leans at an ideal angle to make himself look a little musclier.]

Isn't this trouble?

[ Since he hasn't gotten any answers, he's going to make some assumptions. ]

[hassaran]

Why would it be?

[bouchonne]

[ He gestures to the three of them, eyebrow raised drolly. ]

A meeting about this? And I wasn't invited? The mind jumps to conclusions.

[katabasis]

Leander wasn't invited either.

[bouchonne]

It is my hope that my opinions and concerns are worth rather more than his in this situation, dear Captain, being the injured party. Yet my exclusion makes me feel as though they are not given much weight.

[ He spreads his hands. ]

But perhaps I am being paranoid. Perhaps you were going to speak with me the moment you heard that it was I who was affected.

[hassaran]

For Maker's sake.

[ Yseult's gaze takes in Flint as well, though it's Byerly she's looking at most directly. ]

We were discussing it without you first because the whole business is bizarre enough to raise questions. The man stabbed you in the gut. Why would you not report it so that something might be done? It's not a personal matter if we are employing a man who might casually stab a colleague at any moment.

[bouchonne]

[ Her incredulity is enough to give him pause. She wouldn't fake being so exasperated, he thinks. Not on his account.

And so, with a bit less of his usual fey doublespeak, with a little more directness, he answers: ]

These sorts of things ought to be taken care of by the people involved.

[ Sometimes, he is very, very Fereldan. ]

He cut me for his pleasure. He did so because he believed we were locked into some sort of perverse game, and it gave him a thrill. And if you all don't already know that he's a pervert, you clearly haven't talked to him for more than a few sentences. [ Then, with a heavier sigh - ] Anyway, truly, it would be impossible to hand down judgment upon him now. Perhaps before I was appointed to this position, but not now that I'm our diplomat-in-chief. I suspect that's the game he's playing now - trying to provoke us, singly or jointly, into appearing tyrannical.

[katabasis]

You're suggesting we do nothing.

[bouchonne]

[ A shrug. ]

It's an ugly look for Ambassador Rutyer. To seek vengeance only when the crime is magnified by his stature.

[hassaran]

[ There's distaste lingering in the tightness of Yseult's mouth and jaw, the slight lowering of her brow. How much of it is for Byerly's response and how much for Leander is difficult to say. ]

Are you so convinced he poses no danger to anyone else?