open | with the sound of my heart

[sulahnan]

WHO: Athessa, Madi, Lucien, Skull, and YOU!!
WHAT: catch-all
WHEN: mostly Satinalia and later
WHERE: Kirkwall and The Gallows
NOTES: post-murderhaus h/c is gonna go here

Comments

[bouchonne]

The other way around.

[ His smile is even tighter. ]

And I thought you were not prone to getting injured in those fights, dear Athessa.

[coquettish_trees]

You need not deflect, cherie, [ it’s even, cordial. ] If you do not wish to talk about it you may certainly say so, and we shall not.

[ She slides her gaze over to Byerly for confirmation: Right? asks the look (it’s not really a question), before returning to Athessa. ]

But if you do wish—

[ It’s left hanging like an extended hand. ]

[sulahnan]

I'm just flattered that Byerly holds me in such high regard, [ she is, a bit. ] To think I always walk away unscathed.

[bouchonne]

[ By doesn't respond to that. Instead he looks to Alexandrie and asks, sweetly: ]

You were saying something about deflecting?

[coquettish_trees]

I believe I was.

[sulahnan]

I don't wanna talk about it.

[ There. Happy? ]

I'm on the mend, so let's just play cards.

[bouchonne]

[ His lips tighten further. A moment, and then he pushes back from the table. A bit tightly: ]

I've recalled that I've work to do. I shall leave you.

[coquettish_trees]

[ Alexandrie little registers what she's doing until she's already caught what she can of him: just his little finger, with two of her own. A look of entreaty. He knows, yes? That it is hard sometimes? ]

Have you?

[ She pauses for a moment, holds, and then lets go. ]

I should hardly wish to interfere with official business, but we should miss your company now that we have had it.

And the buttons are already in three.

[ A sidelong glance: back me up, Athessa. ]

[sulahnan]

Please, Byerly. Stay and play cards.

[ She doesn't have to act for that to sound sincere, because she really does want to learn to play and who better to observe than these two? ]

I want you to stay and play cards with me and your lady fair.

[bouchonne]

[ A moment, then: ]

Fine.

[ But from the fact that he's not even bothering to look pleasant, it's clear that this won't be a pleasant, quippy, banter-filled game like it would ordinarily be. ]

[coquettish_trees]

[ There's something more here, more than just worry after Athessa, more than Alexandrie's own minor exasperation at the attempt to run them around continuing even after she'd named it. She thinks it has never sat well with either Byerly or herself to be shut out by those they have made the effort to open to, but...

Her lips thin, brows drawing together slightly. Does the friendship between the two of them yet have uncertain brittle edges? If so, her staying him may have wrought more harm than else.

If she were not concerned with Athessa's wellbeing, she could press the other woman until she folded and spoke or left. If she were not concerned with Byerly's, she could carry on blithely with the game and ignore the gathering frost. As it is, she hesitates, her fingers still curled around his. ]

[sulahnan]

[ Athessa doesn't notice Lexie's expression — a minor slip-up on the Bard side of things — because her attention is on Byerly. Trying to figure out what she did wrong this time, what she can do or say to fix it. ]

What can I do, By?

[ Plaintive questions can't hurt, right? ]

[bouchonne]

What a question.

[ There's a caustic sort of sarcasm there, because the answer is patently obvious. Actually answer his damned question. Tell him what happened, so that his mind can stop twisting itself into knots imagining the possibilities. Ease his terror in some way.

He looks over to where Lexie's hand touches his. A momentary impulse makes him want to pull away - but Lexie doesn't deserve to suffer just because his anger tends to the dramatic. Instead, he turns his hand over and strokes the back of her own hand with his thumb. I'm fine. I'm sorry. ]

[coquettish_trees]

[ She'd expected the pull. Had been gathering herself to keep hold and follow until he'd worn through the taut momentum of his anger and would speak.

But he doesn't, and she smiles for it, and then leans towards him with brows curving in entreaty. Athessa has some Orlesian, she knows, but perhaps not the facility to catch it murmured low. It is as private a moment as she can make. ]

Nous avons assez perdu en pensant que les autres savent ce que voulons, non?

[ Her thumb smooths the back of his hand, in echo. Tell her. ]

[sulahnan]

[ Athessa doesn't have enough Orlesian to parse the full sentence, catching only a few words. Enough, lost, others.

She sighs. ]

We ran into some trouble on the road back from Ostwick after a routine rift job. Found a guy who'd been quietly killing...people. And he must've thought we were there to apprehend him because he turned on us in the night. We were put through the ringer but we're all alive and the murderous innkeeper isn't.

[ That's as succinct as she can make it without hinting at any of the horrors they'd had to face. ]

The details will be in the report. Is that enough? I'm not trying to hide anything from you; I just don't much fancy talking about it or being fussed over.

[bouchonne]

I'm not altogether certain what makes you think that I'm the sort of person who would fuss.

[ He says that with all apparent sincerity. Self-awareness is a skill not all people possess. ]

What does that mean, put through the ringer? [ His eyes turn to Lexie, now, a tiny twitch of his head asking her, Do you know? ]

cw: implication of rape

[coquettish_trees]

[ But Alexandrie isn't looking at him, she's looking at Athessa with focused intensity, her hand tensing for a moment before it releases with her next out-breath.

Athessa has seen a great deal in her life. Alexandrie has seen her cut throats with nearly casual familiarity, and yet there had been a hitch in her speech. Killing... people.

And what cause to think there should be fuss made, if it is a simple dislocation. There's more. It's more than murder. Killing quietly while maintaining a place in the community convenient for obtaining victims none will miss suggests the reason is a taste for it. No-one with a taste for killing for killing's sake that cannot be sated is not cruel. Does not, perhaps, develop better games over time. How many had gone? Surely the man couldn't have taken them all quietly one by one, which means drugs, and— ]

Say he did not.

[ It is a woman's look to a woman. ]

cont. cw: implication of rape just in case

[sulahnan]

He didn't. [ A confident assertion, that. Perhaps Medrod had such inclinations, but there wasn't a single moment in those mirrored halls when her mind turned to Devigny.

Glossing over Byerly's apparent lack of self awareness wrt fussing, his question is addressed next, with only minor fidgeting with the cards dealt. Please can we just play the game?? ]

It means — [ A brief pause to frustratedly search for the words. ] — Well, whaddya think it means, By? A lot of us nearly died but we didn't.

[bouchonne]

I don't know; that is why I am asking.

[ The cards bend slightly under the press of his fingers. ]

So, what, he fought you? All of you, together?

[coquettish_trees]

[ The rest of her body relaxes to hear both the denial and its confidence. There's still some dark blood waiting, surely, but there are some things...

Byerly is still tense though, and there are different scars he bears. More than enough to pull up through the ground and imagine onto a friend, without any other truths to use. ]

If less fussing is your hope, cherie, I should perhaps endeavor to speak of it if you can. If we [ read: Byerly, ] cannot fret over true things, we shall only end up inventing our own horrors to fret about.

[ She lifts a shoulder and smiles, small and apologetic. ]

It is terrible, sometimes, is it not? To be cared for.

she just came out to have a good time and honestly is feeling so attacked right now???

[sulahnan]

[ Athessa looks from Lexie, to Byerly, and back. Chekov's Bard Lesson: Everyone is only on their own side. ]

We got tortured.

[ She says it matter-of-factly, angry over the loss of any hope of normalcy tonight. ]

That's what happened. We woke up separated and bound in torture devices and had to deal with it or die.

[ There it is. Are you happy now? Athessa nods to herself. ]

I was on a rack and it dislocated my shoulder when Barrow tried to cut me loose. He'd been in an iron maiden. Should I keep going, or can we play cards now?

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly is very, very still. There's white at his fingertips where he's digging them into the tabletop. He doesn't blink and doesn't speak.

Instead, after a long moment, he flicks his eyes over to Alexandrie. He needs her to speak first, needs her to take a turn, because if he opens his mouth or even moves he may tear something to pieces. Perhaps himself. ]

[coquettish_trees]

[ Having prepared for just this conclusion a minute ago, done her tensing then, Alexandrie takes it smoothly, poised as marble. She nods slowly, hopes that the movement and her continued gaze will keep attention off the way she slides Byerly's hand, in hers, from its rest atop the table to out of sight below where she can tighten her grip to something just shy of vicious. Whether he thinks it her need or not, it is an invitation to the same, a path of some small release outside of himself.

When she speaks, it's with the acceptance and entreaty of the rightly chastised: ]

I hope your desire to continue the game means you forgive us our prying for the moment?

[sulahnan]

Like I said, [ she moves to stand, setting her cards down in a stack near her pillars of buttons. ] It'll all be in the report.

[ Meaning it's hardly prying, if it's going to be known later anyway. Athessa walks to the nearby liquor cabinet to try and find something inoffensive to drink. ]

I'd just like a night, one night, to pretend like it didn't happen and nothing hurts and everything is normal.

[ She grabs what looks like a bottle of mead and brings it back over and sets it on the table. ]

[bouchonne]

[ His breathing is light and shallow, and his eyes look sunken. His fingers dig into Alexandrie's hand, hard enough to hurt. He looks near to shaking, or near to being sick.

Instead, finally, he grinds out: ]

All right.

[ Even if just saying that was a clear struggle. Normalcy is probably far, far beyond what's possible - but he will endeavor to try. ]