inbox.

[katabasis]

action + written + crystal

Comments

[bouchonne]

How curious.

[ Byerly's voice is a low murmur. He supposes he should have expected that, but - The idea of forsaking your homeland is so foreign to him that it honestly wasn't even thinkable until Flint said it. If it were him, he'd still be starving for his native land, even from Nascere. Much as he had when he'd been in Orlais...Every day of his self-imposed exile, he'd craved Ferelden. How does one get to the point of forgetting it? Of considering someplace else home?

Of course, Tevinter is a shitpile. So he can't really blame Flint. ]

I accept it.

[katabasis]

[There is a soft click of metal. The knife nips back into its sheath.]

Good.

[bouchonne]

[ How strange it is. A moment longer, then By tilts his head very slightly to the side. ]

Perhaps you should let go of me.

[katabasis]

[Instead his spare hand turns up, palm open.]

Return the crystal.

[bouchonne]

[ Oh. Right. He pulls it from his pocket - but holds it teasingly out of reach. ]

I could use it to make you a few new friends.

[katabasis]

[His thumb can evidently press harder, regardless of the sluggish haze overlying the effort.]

[bouchonne]

[ By, in response, just tips his head up, baring his throat more. ]

Oh, dear Captain, that sort of thing is a reward for me, not a punishment.

[katabasis]

[He steps forward then. It's not lethargic, just deliberate - narrow space made narrower. Hands don't grip to hold, they're just firm there across Byerly's collarbone and at his wrist. And though he nearly a span shorter than the other man, moving slow from the drug and the ache in his chest, there is no question of his certainty. Maybe that's the poppy too - the unearned sense of security, the strange confidence that if he has let things go, Byerly has been made to pay something for them. Regardless, he sounds very low and sure:]

To be clear, Messr Rutyer. If at any point you turn your attention from ending this war to the dissection of my part in it, if you find yourself inclined to threaten me, if you attempt anything like this again or if I find you asking too many questions whose answers are none of your concern, then I will be forced to assume that my trust has become disposable to you. Do you understand me?

[bouchonne]

Friends play with friends.

[ But - message received. He drops the crystal into Flint's pocket. ]

There's no malice in it.

[katabasis]

Forgive me. I've been drugged.

[You fuck.

He unhands Byerly.]

[bouchonne]

Yes, but by a really fun one.

[ He steps back, then, and straightens his lapels. And, cheerily - ]

I could give you a dose. If you'd like. To loosen someone's tongue someday. Or a poison? I'm honestly quite well-supplied, if you have any desires.

[katabasis]

[He sags back, hip checked by the desk. A hand returns to his side.]

Get the fuck out, Rutyer.

[bouchonne]

[ A little wave of his hand, acknowledging; he turns to go. But then hesitates, and tosses back over his shoulder - ]

Nothing for your side? What I can supply is a bit better than what you'll find amongst the basic infirmary kits.

[katabasis]

[Somehow, the offer doesn't appeal in this hour.]

Give your best to my wife.

[bouchonne]

[ A shrug, then a casual wave - and then he saunters out, leaving Flint to deal with the last of the drug himself. ]

[katabasis]

[And the bottle, left there on the desk. And Byerly's glass, practically full still.

It takes effort to make his way across the room to the door and bolt it. When he returns to the desk, it's to fetch up the abandoned glass. The wine's drinkable.]