inbox.

[heirring]

[action + written + crystal]

Comments

[heirring]

Very well. When you are prepared to admit your fault, I will dutifully apply myself to such lessons.

[bouchonne]

My fault in what? Endeavoring to bring about your death?

[heirring]

[Ugh, she says. Or at the very least makes a sound with a very similar sentiment.]

I care very little about what you did or didn't do in the dream, Mister Rutyer. We are discussing matters of respect in the here and now.

[bouchonne]

Ah. Miss Poppell, I do have to note that if you must bargain for respect, something may be wrong with your presentation to the world.

[heirring]

Is that all you have to say on the subject?

[bouchonne]

Very well. I'm deeply sorry.

[heirring]

--Is very kind of you to say, but I wasn't asking for an apology. My request was for a confession.

[bouchonne]

What, a confession that I have seen you as frivolous?

[heirring]

Precisely.

[bouchonne]

All right. Yes, I have seen you as frivolous.

[heirring]

Very good. Then you or the Scoutmaster may schedule for me whatever lessons you believe would be most valuable for the task of self-murder. I am available either early in the morning, or directly after the lunch hour.

Shall I inform Mister Stark that he's also to receive an education, or would you refer to broach the subject with him personally? Do you suppose you will incorporate these lessons into the obligatory Rifter curriculum, lest one of them somehow be underestimated? Or perhaps it should be like Monsieur Royan's etiquette lessons and the whole company ought to learn.

[bouchonne]

Miss Poppell, you are not taking this seriously.

[heirring]

Am I not?

[bouchonne]

You are not. You are continuing to be frivolous.

[heirring]

In what way am I being frivolous? Have I not agreed to lessons? Have I not gone to great efforts to illustrate your previous oversight and made some suggestion to avoid similat mistakes in the future?

Really, Lord Ambassador—What was it? That if you must insult me to be taken seriously then perhaps there is something wrong with your presentation to the world.

[bouchonne]

You're tittering at the very idea.

[heirring]

My gods, [she sighs wistfully.] If only I knew what it must be like to be so disregarded. I imagine I might treat the matter less cavalierly then.

[bouchonne]

[ It would solve the problem if he just strangled her right now. She's a Rifter. No one would go looking. ]

Do you find the thought of abetting the enemy, and contributing to the downfall of the resistance against Corypheus, amusing and delightful?

[heirring]

Oh yes. That must be why I spend so much of my day hard at work in Riftwatatch's name, laboring along in the Research division workshops and at the Seneschal's side or in the project offices, and being forever so agreeable to whatever work I am given despite being fully entitled to have never lifted a finger for this place. You have caught me, Ambassador.

[It's difficult to parse over crystal, but is there perhaps some venomous note steeling into the edge of all her false brightness and good cheer?]

Oh, or perhaps I am a spy. And have all this time been playing as silly and claiming to be from another place when really I have merely been an agent of the Imperium best by a rift anchor. After all, I have been here for so long. Is that not odd for a Rifter? Surely it is unlikely.

[bouchonne]

[ And perhaps there's a hint of poison in his voice as well. ]

Don't be absurd. Spies need charm.

[heirring]

[Her laugh is a nasty 'Ha!']

Oh, admit it. That you're only angry because you made a mistake and because of it now find yourself in the ignominious position of being treated in the exact same manner which you treat the entirety of the world and everyone else in it.

[bouchonne]

[ Sharply - ]

Maker's breath - you not understanding why I'm angry is precisely why I'm angry.

[heirring]

I understand you perfectly well. I am choosing to be an ass about it.

[bouchonne]

Then explain it to me, Miss Poppell. Tell me why I'm angry.

[heirring]

[And because he has asked so nicely, Wysteria does him the courtesy of exploding like the sun.]

You are angry because even now you believe I am little more than a senseless and petty child, only now you believe I am a senseless petty child who might be capable of wreaking real havoc in misery in her wake. And worse, you think! That I am choosing neither to treat the matter with the severity which you have suddenly decided it deserves or to be apologetic about the contents of a dream. Nevermind the fact that I have even now technically refused you nothing.

Well I am refusing this. I will not take responsibility for whatever fear a nightmare instilled in you last night as clearly I could never convince you of such a thing by my own merit. After all, you have apparently seen nothing meaningful enough about the work I have faithfully done here these past two and a half years while I have been bound to Riftwatch's service to independently warrant that fear much less outweigh it.

If you wish to be recieved with any measure of civility, Mister Rutyer, then you might begin by granting the same favor to those you view as so far beneath you that they don't even entertain or amuse. It is not my fault you have never treated with me with any respect, even when I made every effort to earn it! So you may continue to be angry. But know that it is because you have chosen to be it. Nothing I could say or do makes any difference whatsoever.