INBOX II

[illithidnapped]

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[bouchonne]

[ What does that mean? I don’t suspect you of that kind of deception. We’ve seen a great deal of one another’s scars. Meaning, what, that Byerly had provided him with a more valuable sort of collateral? That's certainly not the case: Byerly's disgrace had been a matter of delighted gossip, back when it had happened. Every Fereldan noble above a certain age likely heard of his public shame. So -

So what's his meaning? That the scars make Byerly more trustworthy? That someone who's suffered like that is less likely to hurt Astarion? Maker, would that that were true. By remembers well how utterly his disgrace had turned him vicious and cruel. How calculating and evil he'd become after it all...

But at the same time: he won't hurt Astarion. He knows that he will not betray him. So maybe there's something to Astarion's faith, after all.

A lighter topic: ]

Thieving, my dear fellow?

[illithidnapped]

[A lighter topic indeed.]

A man has to pay his bills somehow, and much as I adore Riftwatch’s precious little stipend, it’s not nearly enough for an elf in Lowtown attempting to pay rent outside the Alienage, which....

Eugh, no.

[Not in a thousand eons would he resort to relocating there.]

Hence. Borrowing. Aggressively.

[bouchonne]

You're going to get us into trouble.

[illithidnapped]

With whom, darling?


The ruffians in the harbor? The riff raff and mercenaries that do just as much to ruin the scabbiest of lives in this flea-ridden city?

Come now, Byerly. I don't rob from the rich....

[Well.]

...much.

[Mostly never— which is almost always, as far as well-behaved odds go, if you think about it.]

And the ones that stray into Lowtown and the like know exactly what they're getting into.

[bouchonne]

Ah, so he's not a thief - he's the Black Fox come again. No wonder Bastien is fond of you.

[ Easily teasing, with no bite in it. The tone remains light as he says - ]

It'd simply look a bit bad if word got out. Even if it is just riff raff. Riftwatch has all those foreign heathens, and they come to prey on our people.

[illithidnapped]

[Memo to look up the Black Fox later then— if only to potentially discuss it with Bastien at some future point.]


Mm. [Light mm, cavalier (yet gently so) mm.

A warning for the inevitable mischief that follows:]

So what I'm hearing is that I shouldn't leave them alive when I rob them blind.

[bouchonne]

[ Just a hint of the stressed, unhappy Division Head creeps through Byerly's light irony. ]

Ah, Astarion...

[illithidnapped]

What?

Oh come on. That was funny. I was funny.

[The jury's still out on that one, Astarion. But still:]

You’ve let your work sink its claws into you far too much these days.

It’s going to break my blackened heart, at this rate.

[bouchonne]

You should have known me before all this.

[ He's droll again, his little stress-bubble forcibly popped and dispersed. ]

Before la responsabilité. I was fun, if you can believe it. I'd have gone with you on those robberies.

[illithidnapped]

Oh?

[Astarion doesn’t sound like he doubts it, actually.]

Surely your desk didn’t just change you overnight, though.

...or if it did, cursed as it might be, I could just burn it. Unshackle you and set you free.

[bouchonne]

Ha. I'd adore you for it.

[ He sounds like he really would. ]

But it sounds like you're accusing me of having been serious-minded for some time. Or are you saying that perhaps there's fun still buried in me?

[illithidnapped]

The latter, more or less. Maybe both. Does knowing you for almost a year now count as ‘quite some time’? Because if so, yes.

And I’m starting to think I might need to resort to drastic measures to save you.

[bouchonne]

I’m afraid that even if the desk burns, the work will remain.

[illithidnapped]

So, you're resigned to your fate now, is that it?

Byerly Rutyer: once fun, now recently only remembered as the very handsome, well-dressed fellow with a charming partner and...

Mm.

Adequately endearing pup.

[bouchonne]

[ Hey. ]

Extraordinarily endearing pup.

[illithidnapped]

Maybe so.

I'll admit, expecting the creature that's fed for two centuries purely on animals to weigh in on the cuteness factor of them isn't exactly going to net you reliable results.

[Because, let's be honest:]

...they all look like snacks to me.

[bouchonne]

That excuse doesn't hold up, dear fellow. I also feed primarily on animals.

[illithidnapped]

Oh, do you? How refreshing to hear; I always thought you sorts fenced yourselves off from snacking on the pettish types, but if we're both complete carnivores, well—

I stand corrected.

You'll have to teach me what traits are considered precious, though. Consider it part of my socialization.

...localization?

[Hm.]

Both, maybe.

[bouchonne]

What - You don't know? You don't feel that tremble of your heart when you look into a pair of big and shining eyes?

[illithidnapped]

I—

[Hm.]

Sometimes.

But they're not animal eyes.

[bouchonne]

Well, imagine that for animals.

[ As long as it's not lustful. ]

[illithidnapped]

Mm. Well. [Hang on. Just. One minute.

Or two.

Or—

....]

No— no. I can't. It's just getting weirder the longer I try.

[bouchonne]

What’s weird about it? Just picture my face, mustache and all, on a cat.

[illithidnapped]

...eugh.

Worse.

[So much worse???]

Can't we just go back to the part where I remind you you're being all work and no play lately?