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

[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?"

[bouchonne]

He takes a moment to read it over.

"It's a bit too deferential," he says, then hands her back both the letter and a new sheet of paper. "Don't be sassy, but don't be quite so respectful."

Then, with a small sigh - "Everything I did in that dream grew out of my feelings about people in some way or another."

[sulahnan]

"Hardly complimentary," she mutters quietly. To think that Byerly's feelings for her grew into such condescension and disregard, enough so that were it not for the reveal that it was in fact a dream, she would have left the company altogether.

She clicks her tongue against the back of her teeth, looking the letter over again and starting a new reply: So-and-so, While we appreciate the invitation to attend, blah blah blah, Regards, etc.

[bouchonne]

His lips tighten. And he says, clipped, "I'm trying my best, Athessa."

Another signature on the page.

[sulahnan]

"To do what?"

Seems a fair question, even asked somewhat absently. She passes the new letter back.

[bouchonne]

"To not ruin everything." His voice roughens. "To - pull this organization together. To stand against Corypheus."

[sulahnan]

Athessa studies Byerly's face, hearing the vocal shift and trying to determine its provenance. Anger? Sadness? She's never been able to tell one way or another with any accuracy.

Except when he's worried, she knows what that looks like, now.

"That's not something you can do alone."

[bouchonne]

"I'm not trying to do it alone." He runs a hand over his face. He looks tired - nearly as tired as he looked in that dream. "I'm trying to - cajole, flatter, persuade, threaten, whatever I need to do so that we all pull in the same direction. Believe me - Maker, believe me, if I were trying to act alone, I'd be taking very different actions."

[sulahnan]

"Like what?"

[bouchonne]

But he shakes his head. "There's no point in naming them," he says. "I live to serve. And this is how I am to serve, until somehow I find some release."

[sulahnan]

She makes a little hm sound, decidedly neutral.

"What d'you reckon that release oughta look like?"

[bouchonne]

A sharp little laugh. "Death?"

[sulahnan]

She doesn't laugh, but there's a wry twist to her mouth. "That's bleak, By."

[bouchonne]

And he shrugs in response. "It's true," he says. "I only took this position because we were desperate. Because no one capable stepped forward. Maybe we'll find someone to take it from me; I don't know. But I suspect I'll hold it till someone cuts my throat. Probably in a month or two, if people know what's good for them."

[sulahnan]

"I mean they obviously don't," she says, and runs her thumb along the edge of the parchment with her second draft on it. "But if you don't wanna be in this position, why don't you look for a replacement? Actively, not by waiting around for someone to kill you."

[bouchonne]

"So you agree," he says, and signs another page.