please bore someone else with your questions | closed

[hassaran]

[ The war room is almost cozy on a winter evening, the hearth blazing, the firelight flickering off the great ironwood table. Yseult occupies one of the heavy wooden armchairs, but treats it like the softer upholstered version in her office, legs drawn up onto the seat as she picks up the list she has been scratching down. ]

People to put in her path. So far we have agreed on Seeker Tiffany, Bastien, Jude, and Julius. People to remove from the Gallows for the duration if possible and at minimum keep out of her path: Edgard, the Averesch brothers, Gwenaëlle, Matthias, Marcus, Astarion.

[ She looks up, pencil held at the ready between her knuckles. ] We will need more. Madame de Foncé could easily fill several hours?

Comments

[bouchonne]

[ Drawling over his cup of coffee, Byerly avers: ]

Several hours.

[ He does a good imitation of someone annoyed instead of fond. ]

[propulsion]

[ Tony is sitting mostly normal, himself, one foot kicked up on a knee, no notes being taken when someone's already making them for him to copy off. He has a quill, anyway, balanced between two fingers.

On good behaviour, with a guest in the room. ]

I can go over some Research talking points for her [ is agreement ] and she'll definitely divert off of 'em anyway to talk about a bunch of other stuff. So, yeah, good call.

[ Byerly's impression is clearly too good, Tony flicking a squint at him. Be nice. ]

[tender]

[ A similar frown from Derrica, though it isn't followed by disagreement. Yes, yes. Wysteria de Foncé is an excellent choice. ]

Add Gela, [ she stipulates instead. ] She's done well with managing difficult situations on more than one assignment.

[ Derrica has yet to sit. Hasn't quite been pacing, but nervous energy has been manifesting in movement, from the window to the heavy table to Yseult's side and away again, minor readjustment of her shawl and the cinch of her belt or the fall of her braid occupying her hands in turn. ]

Stephen Strange wouldn't be a terrible idea either, if he had someone to partner with.

[hassaran]

[ Seeing consensus, Yseult adds Wysteria's name to the list. Her penmanship (minus the pen, she'd pulled a stub of pencil from a pocket instead) is neither the flowing script one might imagine from her nor the chicken-scratch of an overworked professional who doesn't care if anyone else can read it later, occupying instead some oddly normal middle ground. ]

I've not spoken with Gela. What did she manage for you? [ Not an argument, but she isn't writing her down just yet, either. ] And what sort of partner would you propose?

sneaks back in

[tender]

We were sent to a village that had a tainted crop. It had made people very ill, including a Chantry Mother there. Gela had little trouble gaining their trust and cooling tempers.

[ As to a partner— ]

For Strange, someone patient.

[ Specifically, patient with the management of perhaps-pious, perhaps-judgemental Chantry Mothers. A counterbalance. ]

[propulsion]

[ Because he's been puzzling, ]

Really? Stephen?

[ Not laden with skepticism, though it pitches his voice up a little. ]

Like, because we think she'd be into that? Or?

[bouchonne]

He does have those pretty baby blue eyes.

[hassaran]

[ Gela's name gets added. ]

If he can't muster the necessary patience on his own, he may not be the best candidate for this task.

[tender]

[ A brief, flat look in response to Byerly and Tony both, before— ]

I think he is knowledgeable about topics unique to Rifters, but none that would be perceived as wicked by a Chantry Mother.

[ Derrica has heard plenty of Rifter trivia in her time, has some idea of what will and won't count as apostate magic. ]

If she is curious, the conversation could stretch on for some time, as long as they don't stumble into discussion of religious beliefs.

[propulsion]

[ Tony raises his eyebrows for flat look. What.

But; ]

He's smart, and if we're looking at this like a numbers game, then throw him in the mix. But she's a whole nun, right? Religion seems inevitable.

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly gives a small shrug. ]

To offer Rifters without offering a bit of heresy would perhaps be a disappointment. He seems like he can shock without scandalizing.

[hassaran]

Religion must be assumed inevitable, [ she agrees, but there's a tip of her head to Byerly's point, too. ]

You and he have some history, [ this to Tony, essentially rhetorical. They all visited it. ] What made you balk at the suggestion?

[propulsion]

[ Tony raises his hands, a sort of no big deal gesture. ]

Just, diplomatic's not how I'd describe a guy who says whatever he's thinking and what he's thinking is about how he's the smartest guy in the room. Which kind of created some tension, initially? Because that's me.

[ Right? We all agree. ]

If we don't want anyone to debate and argue with this lady, I'm not sold on him being that kind of ass kisser.

[bouchonne]

[ A little to be obnoxious, and a little because it's true: ]

He's not nearly as bad as you are, Stark.

[tender]

[ Smoothly, in the wake of that— ]

That's why we put someone alongside him, to temper that impulse.

[ Though, as a concession, Derrica offers: ]

We can hold him in reserve rather than relying on him when she arrives. We might not even need him, if her stay is short.

[propulsion]

[ No further argument for longlisting Stephen, instead tipping a too-obvious wink to Byerly beneath Derrica's response. ]

[hassaran]

Likely a necessary category.

[ Yseult gives Derrica's offer a nod, and draws a brisk line across the middle of the page, writing Stephen Strange below it. ]

Other suggestions?

[bouchonne]

[ By blows a kiss to Stark in exchange. Then - ]

Barrow, perhaps? To speak with her? The fellow has such a sturdy and comforting air.

[katabasis]

He's inoffensive.

[The less than ringing endorsement is punctuated by a small shower of sparks huffing out of the fireplace and across the expansive hearthstone as Flint wedges over a shrivelled log with the fire iron.

He promptly stamps out the little embers most at risk of wandering to touch the room's heavily trafficked rug with a boot heel.]

[tender]

He's a templar.

[ A statement carrying the undercurrent of no. ]

I can have little a boomerang as a treat

[katabasis]

[No he's not. But what Flint says is—]

Good. [He leans the poker up against the edge of the fireplace.] Definitive proof we don't kill all of them.

[propulsion]

Yeah, not the hot ones,

[ agrees area man refusing to not also have jokes.

Tipped aside to Derrica, borderline sympathetic, if breezily, ]

It'd play well.

elbows back in

[tender]

[ Ha ha (unless—)

Jokes aside, it doesn't seem to fully convince her. ]

It would be a risk. I'm not sure we need it.

[hassaran]

[ Yseult's pencil is poised--this is not a democracy and even if it were the vote's clear. But she pauses and turns her head to Derrica. ]

Are you suggesting we ought to try to prevent her speaking to any former Templars?

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly just sips his coffee quietly. ]