A Matter of Reputation

[sulahnan]

WHO: Athessa, Byerly, Mhavos, Silver
WHAT: Talking about Propaganda!
WHEN: Early Harvestmere
WHERE: Diplomacy Office
NOTES: Content warnings, OOC notes, links to other relevant posts, etc.

Mhavos made the appointment, so who knows what Byerly is expecting from this meeting. Athessa actually sits normally in her chair, though whatever energy that usually bids her to sit improperly manifests in her leg bouncing up and down.

It's one thing to pay Byerly a visit, and another entirely to be talking to him in his professional capacity as Lord Ambassador.

Comments

[sulahnan]

"Maferath had smaller ears," Athessa quips, rolling her eyes. She can't fault Byerly for not trusting someone, but she can't help but feel protective of Mhavos. The three of them may as well be pointing knives at each other.

She stands with a sigh and walks over to where Byerly keeps his wine, perusing. If they're going to keep at this, she's going to rectify their first mistake: denying the offer of a drink.

"I'd like to know who those few are," she grabs a bottle and shows it to Byerly from where she stands, looking for a yea or nay. "But I'd appreciate it if you stop antagonizing Mhavos, first."

[murderbaby]

Mhavos moves to stand. "No need. As I am clearly the one causing the problem, I'll excuse myself. I thank you for your time, Lord, and wish it could have been spent on better manners. Or matters."

He gives a little bow, as one does when being dismissed by their better, and turns to go.

[bouchonne]

By dismisses him with an indifferent wave of his fingers, continuing to talk to Athessa.

"Silver's a good choice," he says. "I've become quite impressed with the fellow's wit of late. He's a way with words, too. Good choice; that's a fine bottle."

[sulahnan]

She stands when Mhav does, about to protest before Byerly goes on.

The bottle gets set upon the desk, but Athessa doesn't really care to drink any of it herself.

"What the fuck was that, By?" Her incredulity is back and she gestures towards the door as it closes behind Mhavos.

[bouchonne]

"What do you mean?" he asks, blinking slowly. "Your friend is quite an impatient sort. He was ready to storm out halfway through."

[sulahnan]

"Didn't help that you were treating him like a Venatori wearing a fake mustache."

Which means: suspiciously.

[bouchonne]

He lifts one shoulder. "A baseless accusation. He wasn't wearing a fake mustache at all."

Then - "As I said, Athessa, I don't know the man from Maferath. Or from Shartan, if you insist. And this project - to turn your life story into a propaganda piece - comes from him? Do you like this idea?"

[sulahnan]

She taps her nails against the wine bottle, thinning her lips.

"I thought you said you knew Mhavos," she insists, and then releases the bottle in favor of a shrug and low-speed pacing before the desk. "It's not gonna be my life story, it's just gonna be like... storified versions of missions and stuff. Like fighting Venatori and rescuing damsels, that kind of thing."

But does she like it?

"I do like the idea. Not being propaganda, but...I dunno. There's a lot of bullshit out there about elves, and I like the idea of countering some of it. All of it, eventually, but I'm just one woman."

[bouchonne]

"I know everyone," he replies, "and trust very few of them."

Then, a breath out through his nose. "Have you ever been the subject of gossip before?"

[sulahnan]

"If I have, I haven't heard it."

Who would care to gossip about some nobody elf? Even when she had the misfortune to live in an unsanctioned brothel, she wasn't called by her real name. (Devigny likely never knew it in the first place.)

[bouchonne]

"There are few things worse," he says, with a painful little twist of the mouth. "And if you make yourself into a folk-hero, you'll have to deal with slander. Even if they don't know your name, they will talk about how you lie, how your deeds are false, how you deserve no praise. They will attribute evil to you. They will demand to know why you weren't better. This will be painful."

[sulahnan]

Hm. Maybe she does have experience with this, actually.

"People already talk about the Dalish that way," she crosses her arms and thinks for a moment. "I can handle it."

Especially if at least one elf finds some hope because of it.

"So John Silver is your first pick?"

[bouchonne]

He shakes his head. "It's completely different," he says. "Orlesians shit on Fereldans. Very different from when someone comes for you personally."

But...He sighs. "Yes. Silver would do."

[sulahnan]

She makes a skeptical face. Not about Silver; he's fine, and smart, and good at storytelling and all. But at least Fereldans have a country. They're not dwindling, about to disappear.

"Who else? You said you had a few."

[bouchonne]

He feels, abruptly, rather sullen. He supposes that it's another instance of the same - admitting something personal, and having it just...glance right off her, having her not even absorb it. Ah, well. At least he's more accustomed to it of late.

"How many do you want? I believe there's a saying about cooks and broth."

[sulahnan]

"There's also a saying about counting chickens before they hatch."

She sighs and shifts her weight to one foot, one hand on her hip, the other at her mouth so she can chew on her thumb. Orlesians. Fereldans. Dalish. Gossip. Hurt.

"How long did it take before you started to believe it?"

[bouchonne]

His brows draw together slightly. "The saying about too many cooks spoiling the broth?"

[sulahnan]

"The slander."

[bouchonne]

A little shake of his head. "Which bit of slander? I fear you'll have to be rather more specific; there's been quite a lot of it through the years."

[sulahnan]

"Nevermind."

Athessa glances towards the door, thinking about going after Mhavos. But if she ducks out now, Byerly might think she's just going to take this to Silver and that'll be the last he hears of it.

"What exactly do you think Mhavos is supposed to be hiding from you, anyway?"

[bouchonne]

He shrugs. "Who's to say? Maybe nothing. Probably nothing. But it might be something. Rather a lot of people have rather a lot of secrets."

Then - "Has someone slandered you?" Is that the slander he's supposed to have believed?

[sulahnan]

She frowns, confused. "What? No. What's there to slander?"

More importantly: "I didn't expect you to be so...dismissive of him."

[bouchonne]

"Then were the Dalish slandered? Is that what I'm supposed to have believed?"

Then, with a sigh, the matter of Mhavos: "He dismissed himself. I'm quite sure you heard him. What was I supposed to do with him, Athessa, beg him to stay? I don't have much use for people who give up."

[sulahnan]

"No, what? I mean yeah, all the time, but I meant the slander about you."

She shakes her head. She's losing the plot here.

"You were supposed to hear him out and not treat him the way he was obviously expecting you to treat him. Like a servant. Lord Ambassador."

[bouchonne]

"You think that's how servants get treated?" He snorts incredulously. "I'll grant I've never actually had any servants, but I've certainly watched the process of interacting with them. And I don't think that many servants get offered drinks. Rather the opposite."

A short shrug. "Do you think it would be in my best interests to trust people who haven't earned that trust, Athessa?"