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Hm. Well - what do you want, Miss Poppell?

[Lead by example, Wysteria. Be candid and maybe he will do the same. What a relief that would be!]

I'd rather prefer not to be thrown into a hole after all this is said and done. Don't get me wrong, towers seem like a very fine idea, but I'd like to be able to come and go and I please from them. And I'd like this war to be over as quickly as possible. It's such a distraction from anyone getting anything else properly done.

[You know. On top of all the stabbing each other and tearing holes in the world parts.]

But as you said, I'm not exactly the most knowledgeable person in the room, now am I? So I suppose dealing with Clorentine and trusting someone else to make the right decision seems the most... well, reasonable.

Also! [while she's at it] I'd appreciate if you wouldn't call me a child.

I'm sure you would.

Tell me, in your experience, do people often make the right decision if you simply trust them to do so?

[It had been worth a shot.]

Maybe not exactly, but in Kalvad? Yes, generally speaking, they do. [But, getting out ahead of what she's certain is something along the lines of 'Dear girl, how many times do I have to remind you this isn't your home--' or some variant thereof:] But clearly you have a different opinion of how Thedas works. In which case, you may as well tell me what your opinion on the whole election is. I assume you have one.

Well, of course I do. But if it is such a miserable thing to hear it, I don't have to tell you.

No, please. Do go on, Mister Rutyer. I can think of nothing else I'd like more than your unvarnished opinion of a thing.

[True, actually. Which he should know, seeing as how poorly she's lied to him in the past. Couched in sarcasm? Absolutely. But the point stands.]

Well. Do you know what I value, Wysteria? What I wish for?

[A good drink? To win at cards for all eternity? No, be kind Wysteria. The last time you saw him, he lay on his metaphorical death bed.]

I honestly couldn't say.

Edited 2019-03-19 01:00 (UTC)

Survival, of course. Just like you.

My, common ground after all! And pray tell, what does that translate to, Mister Rutyer?

Well, to begin with...The candidates for Divine who would tolerate someone like you are quite similar to the ones who would tolerate someone like me, you know.

Someone like you?

[a scoundrel? A reprobate?]

Just so. So our interests align, dear heart. So - shall we act on our interests?

[Ugh. Infuriating.]

If you like. What do you have in mind?

Nothing drastic. Just - perhaps - a bit of...hm. Careful research.

[Sweetly:]

Careful research, you say?

You know how to do a bit of research, don't you? A bookish girl like you.

[A more deft hand would put her foot down and demand some straight answer here. Wysteria rises to the bait.]

Bookish! Didn't you just say I was ill-informed? What could you possibly trust me to research?

Being ill-informed is no fault of yours. You're like a newborn baby in this world. A mere six months old.

[An audibly frustrated noise.]

Mister Rutyer, if I'm to be at all helpful then you really must be clear about what it is you would or wouldn't like me to do on your behalf. --Pardon me. To our mutual ends. Is there a particular topic you'd like me to go combing through the library after? More to the point, I don't see what any of that has to do with my--

[Oh. Two dots connect.

Hm.]

I take it you don't mean to do 'research' in a library, do you?

[ With great satisfaction: ]

No, Miss Poppell; I do not.

[Somewhere, Wysteria is giving her sending crystal a very narrow look indeed. It translates as a long beat of silence as she weighs the options before her. She could tell him to go spit into the wind, of course. The only reason he's asking after her is her Talent and she has no reason at all to work with such a boar of a person beyond what he calls some 'mutual interest'. But.

But.

But it's a strange thing, to suddenly have the silly thing you can do whatever you like somehow seen as valuable. Stranger still to have someone so dreadful ask after it specifically as if it is anything special at all.

She should tell him no, she decides. Go find someone else to meddle with, Byerly Rutyer.]

All right. I suppose it sounds simple enough.

[ How delightful. ]

Quite so. I even have a plan in place already.

[Of course he does.]

Pray tell.

And ruin the suspense? The excitement? You wish me to simply, artlessly blurt everything over this dreadful little device? You do me wrong, Miss Poppell, by implying that I am so piss-poor a raconteur.

(no subject)

heirring - 2019-03-31 18:07 (UTC) - Expand