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

[katabasis]

Stop talking.

[Has the clipped cadence of a battlefield order—a rarely employed instrument in this room, all things considered.]

This is not a crisis. It is a temporary inconvenience which must be managed while we proceed with our work as usual.

So as Stark said. We address the divisions separately following Derrica's statement to the company. We handle instructing the individuals on that list [Yseult's penciled roster] along the same divisions lines. Either we know our people well enough to judge best how to manage them, or they have been operating under their own good sense for long enough to continue on in that vein. Agreed?

[Clearly, he has a list to run through but this tag is already long and this is merely a momentary break to confirm that much at least has consensus.]

[hassaran]

[ Yseult's expression has settled back into blankness, and her only response to Flint's proposal is a resigned flick of one wrist that disclaims any objection. ]

[propulsion]

[ There should be no mistaking that Tony isn't aggravated in some real way, unflinchingly soaking up all of that from Byerly as it's said. But Flint sets a pace, depriving him of some amount of bite back, so,

he takes up his quill, which is pretty sproingy, and bends it between his fingers. Aims. Releases somewhere around for long enough to continue, where it flips end over end towards Byerly, likely with the goal of hitting him in the face or something.

It falls short, hitting the middle of the table without a sound. Not sproingy enough. ]

Yuh huh, [ to Flint, settling back in seat. Behaving. ]

[katabasis]

[He doesn't wait for the same from Byerly.]

The postings in Kirkwall in the de Foncé house will serve as a temporary station while we get our bearings in the aftermath of Starkhaven. It will allow us to more easily coordinate with the City Guard, and to reserve a contingent separate from the Gallows who can provide flanking support should any enemy action by the Venatori emboldened by Tevinter's success come looking for us here. If this precautionary effort coincides with Mother Pleasance's visit and if the individuals assigned to it happen to benefit, then that is a happy convenience. Anyone who suspects otherwise will reach that conclusion on their own with or without our help. Though should you wish to tell your people otherwise, obviously that is at your discretion.

You, [narrowing in on Byerly.] I would strongly advise to prepare some form of release for the company once this is all said and done and our guest is away. I'm sure arrangements can be made for some theatre troupe or like entertainment for leavening the aftermath and winning us a measure of leeway should we find ourselves facing decisions in need of it.

Now, what else?

[bouchonne]

[ The look that Byerly turns on Tony is still miserable, and a little mulish, to boot. Apparently he's feeling too raw and too sincere for a gesture like having a quill flung at him. It apparently comes across to him as pettily cruel, rather than anything else.

As for the order to arrange a party - Byerly shrugs. Fine, the gesture says. ]

I'll need a few strong-backed laborers. [ This is said to Flint; Forces is where such people are, often, to be found. ] I'm having provisions brought in for her visit and will need help to unload the boat.

[hassaran]

[ Yseult vanishes her pencil into a pocket and returns feet to the floor, rising in the narrow space between her chair and the table and then side-stepping out of it. The notebook her list had come from is gathered in a hand and, barring some interruption, she makes her way out. ]

[propulsion]

[ Tony endures a split second of that look before focusing away, an impatient gathering up of pages and a longer reach to steal back his flicked quill.

He sets about the task of adjourning, in no rush. If there is appreciation for Flint's smoothing over and taking on group project leader, it's expressed in the absence of Quips™. ]

[katabasis]

[Byerly's ask is met with silence. Instead, Flint's attention glances directly off him—following Yseult's exit first, then marking Tony's withdrawal in progress. When he at last looks back to Byerly, there is something blunted in the shape of his expression.]

La Rue and the Warden.

[He moves to gather his cup.]

[bouchonne]

Much obliged.

[ He stands as well, voice clipped. ]

Please kindly let them know.

[katabasis]

[A grunt of affirmation and a lingering look of assessment tracking Byerly as he rises up and out of his chair, and then Flint moves for the door. He'd not kept any notes, and has nothing save the cup to burden himself with. It makes for an easy, agile escape ahead of the both of them.]