AFTERMATHEMATICS

[sulahnan]

WHO: Athessa, Madi, and YOU
WHAT: post-Dream catch-all
WHEN: after part 2 of dream time
WHERE: The Gallows/Kirkwall
NOTES: tags will be slow, brain still bad

[ starters in the comments ]

Comments

[sulahnan]

"You can tell 'em I've been teaching her bad manners. C'mere Whiskey, hop up—" She doesn't have to pat her lap more than once for Whiskey to wriggle her way onto the chair, which is less comforting than inviting a cat onto your lap because Whiskey doesn't want to sit still, wants to lick Athessa's face, wants to play and be played with instead of cuddled and napped with.

[bouchonne]

Also difficult because Whiskey is getting quite large. The former puppy is now nearly adult-sized - she still has a rather lanky and awkward look, but she's probably somewhere between one-third and half of Athessa's weight.

By lifts his head to watch the spectacle, then slumps down in his chair. "Don't blame me when you die."

[sulahnan]

Yep. This was a mistake. Athessa grunts and laughs and wheezes as she gets trampled and slobbered on by this behemoth of a dog, and it takes a fair bit of wrasslin' and ear scratching to convince Whiskey to settle down.

"Well if I died, I wouldn't be around to blame you, would I?"

[bouchonne]

"Standing at the Maker's side," he murmurs, "whispering to Him, what a dick that guy is."

Whiskey, once settled, sets her head at the precise angle so that she can stare with guilt-inducing soulfulness directly into Athessa's eyes any time she's not scratching.

[sulahnan]

"Wouldn't I have to believe in the Maker to do that?"

[bouchonne]

"Do you take me for an expert in theology?" he returns.

[sulahnan]

"I don't even fuckin' know what that is," she waves dismissively with Whiskey's paw. "But I'd have bigger fish to fry than dear ol' By if I had the chance to bend the Maker's ear."

[bouchonne]

"What," he says, with a curling smile that does a decent job of covering his lingering hurt, "you don't think I'm a monster? Not even a little bit?" Because he remembers well the way she looked at him in that shared dream.

[sulahnan]

Just as she remembers well how easily dismissed she was by anyone with authority. She doesnt clock Byerly's smile due to Whiskey knocking her head into Athessa's chin in an effort to get more affection, but somewhere in her reaction to that is a shake of her head.

"No more than I think Baz would sell me to the Venatori." That's a reference to last year's spirit-induced dreaming, which certainly didn't make her trust Bastien any less. Why should Byerly be any different?

[bouchonne]

"Oh, I don't know," By says. "He's got that mustache. I don't fully trust him with that mustache."

[sulahnan]

"It's a very good mustache," she counters without any oomf behind it. Or maybe she's just muffled by the dog. "My favorite mustache in Riftwatch, I think. No offense."

[bouchonne]

"Plenty taken," he replies.

[sulahnan]

She shrugs. "Sorry."

[bouchonne]

A light sigh. "So is that why you're in my office, Athessa? Mustache talk?"

[sulahnan]

That gets her to look at him, brow slightly raised as she tries to read whether or not he's annoyed at her or just annoyed in general. Does he want her to leave? She purses her lips and, after a moment, shrugs again.

"If you like. I dunno. I don't...have a reason, really."

[bouchonne]

More than anything, he's still feeling tender. Byerly has many strengths; emotional resilience is not really one of them. He can't simply shrug off what they went through, even if it was a mere dream. Her hatred still haunts him.

"I do have rather a lot of work. So if you're going to stay, you'll need to do some paperwork."

[sulahnan]

"Alright, alright," she says, and she nudges Whiskey to get off her lap. The resignation might make it seem like Athessa's getting up to leave, but she doesn't head for the door.

She stands in front of the desk and holds out her hands.

[bouchonne]

Ah. Well.

"Are you quite certain?" he asks. "It's the sort of work that will make you beg for the sweet release of death."

[sulahnan]

"All the more reason to share the load." Many hands make light the burden, or something like that. Athessa shrugs and lets her hands fall to her sides, tired of holding them out.

"Unless you want me to leave."

[bouchonne]

"No," he answers, even though in his heart the feelings are more conflicted. "Not at all. I'd quite welcome the help."

[sulahnan]

She looks at him, regards him, and tucks the corner of her mouth into one cheek.

"Do you wanna talk about it? Or do you wanna pretend that nothing happened?" It's not goading, or condescending. It's an offer. He may not be wearing his heart on his sleeve, but he's not exactly acting himself, either.

[bouchonne]

He looks off to the side and gives a small shrug.

"A feeling is a feeling," he says, his voice quiet. "I shall not attempt to dissuade you from having it. It would be an insult, and futile besides."

[sulahnan]

"Me?" she frowns. Who said anything about Athessa's feelings?

"I'm fine, I was trying to give you an out from talking about your feelings."

[bouchonne]

He looks back at her, brows slightly furrowed. "Why would I ever talk about my feelings?" he asks. "They're hardly worthy of attention or discussion."

[sulahnan]

Athessa shrugs and the corners of her mouth tug down to make a C shape.

"I'unno, why would we talk about mine? They're not even interesting!"