The Ambassador is Out

[sulahnan]

WHO: Athessa and you and Byerly too
WHAT: Athessa wears Byerly's clothes and pretends to be him for a joke, ends up doing real work instead.
WHEN: Solace
WHERE: Diplomacy Office
NOTES:

Things have been quiet for a bit, and everyone's been back from the jungle for a bit, and Athessa's need to commit to the bit is strong. One early morning after a night of not much going on, she remembers that she has an outfit of Byerly's tucked away, and inspiration strikes.

I. Can I Take A Message? (open to everyone but Byerly)

[ Byerly has yet to appear in his own office, making this a waiting game for Athessa. She's dressed in Byerly's clothes, which fit her about as well as a tent might. She's had to roll the trouser legs up to not walk on them, and she's rolled the sleeves up to her elbows. There isn't a glass of wine on the desk, but rather a cup of tea that she managed to procure exactly one lump of sugar for, and by the time anyone of note (that's you) comes by, her fake mustache has long since been wiped away.

By the looks of things, Athessa has been taking notes any time someone with legitimate business passes through. ]

II. Reading Back The Minutes (closed to Byerly*)

[ Well it's about damn time. Athessa is still behind the desk, her tea and mustache long since polished off and her fingers smudged with ink and graphite from taking down notes and messages all day with whatever writing implements she's able to find. First, a pencil, but then it got worn down and she couldn't figure out how to sharpen it so she switched to a pen. There's undoubtedly a smudge on her face as well, as she's taken to leaning on her elbow, propping up head in hand as she writes.

When Byerly comes in, she only just remembers the reason she's here and sets down the pen, tenting her fingers the way Byerly does, and raising her eyebrows just so. For someone who looks nothing like Byerly Rutyer, it's an admirable impression of him. And to his face, no less! ]

Ambassador.

*threadjacking welcome

Comments

[rowancrowned]

( the ears might absolutely ruin any excuse. )

Nugs are charming creatures, ( he says, very reasonably. there is indeed one being charming now, nose to the carpet, snuffling for crumbs. ) Yours is the charming division, Ambassador.

[sulahnan]

[ She makes a note of that, nodding appreciatively. ]

Your logic is sound. [ Here she does break character, or at least bends it so she can reach down to offer her hand for nug snuffles. Thranduil, you should have seen the way Byerly balked in the face of a kitten. ]

[rowancrowned]

( the nug butts at the hand in demand for treats, but settles for touch. thranduil, filling the void in his childless life with animals and theodosian elves, continues to play along. )

Precisely why you should support my request for outreach to Orzammar. I am sure the... nug trade would benefit greatly. Perhaps even enough that you would be able to afford one.

[sulahnan]

[ She gives the nug affectionate scritches, apologizing sotto voce for not having any treats to give, then pauses. A frown tugs at her features as she tries to muddle through the possibilities of what Thranduil is using her joke as a euphemism for. ]

I'm not sure I follow. [ Added to her notes: Orzamar outreech. ]

[rowancrowned]

( wow, delightful, attention. he's just going to lounge at her feet until thranduil leaves. )

Clearly, a mabari is beyond his- your- means, else he would have one. A nug is... smaller.

( ha ha ferelden, very funny. dropping the joke entirely,) How did you manage to get into his personal effects? Does he not lock them?

[sulahnan]

I'm sure he does. His wife loaned them to me.

[ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ]