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]

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!"

[bouchonne]

A one-shouldered shrug. "Because they affect you," he replies. "Though I'm perfectly well pleased never to chat about feelings at all, if that suits you."

[sulahnan]

"By the same token, yours affect you, too."

This is some kind of weird impasse, neither one of them intending to talk about their own feelings but acknowledging the mere presence of the other's. Though if anything, Athessa thinks Byerly's are the ones at risk of making things awkward.

"But sure, we can just...only ever talk about unimportant things. Like work." She holds her hands out again to see if maybe this time he actually puts something in them.

[bouchonne]

But Byerly looks at her like she's half-mad. "Work is important," he says. "Far more important than anything that happens in my petty life."

[sulahnan]

"Not nearly as interesting though," she counters. Hands: still empty.

[bouchonne]

Doubly incredulous - "And far more interesting." Then, finally, he picks up a scroll and hands it to her, saying - "Here. Nothing too sensitive. So if you feel tempted to countermand me in it, it'll have little enough impact."

[sulahnan]

There it is.

"Last I checked, I don't have that authority."

But she'll take the scroll and look at it, anyway.

[bouchonne]

"Last I checked, you were not terribly concerned with what you did or didn't have the authority for," he replies dryly.

"Just draft up a reply. Polite regrets, et cetera." It's an invitation to a party from a merchant too low in status to take notice of.

[sulahnan]

"In reality, or in the dream?"

It isn't as though she's gone over the division heads' heads much at all in the waking world, except perhaps where her curation of informants within the city guard is concerned. She sits down and fetches up a piece of fresh parchment and a pen for this response.

Esteemed so-and-so, thank you for honoring us with your invitation, blah blah blah.

[bouchonne]

A half-shrug.

"Is the actions in the one one not a reflection of the intents in the other?"

[sulahnan]

"Nope," is an easy disagreement, for which she pauses in her writing. She doesn't need to try and talk while writing and accidentally write what she's saying instead of what actually belongs in this letter.

"You can't put reliable intention on actions carried out under contrived circumstances."

[bouchonne]

"A lack of faith is a lack of faith," he says, and signs his name to the document he's working on. No trouble here with simultaneous writing and speaking. "And it's understandable. You have no real reason to trust me."

[sulahnan]

"So you keep telling me," she finishes the letter and hands it over for his approval. Maybe it's fine, maybe it's not, she's not the most familiar with this sort of missive.

"So are you trying to tell me that you acted completely yourself in that mess?"