Indigo #128 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dragonmagitech) wrote2016-06-30 06:17 pm
dragonmagitech) wrote2016-06-30 06:17 pm
Entry tags:
Introduction: Seth
“What is this?”
“It’s a resignation letter. Haven’t you ever seen one before?”
Fang peered disbelievingly over the desk at Syzygy, who shuffled uncomfortably where she stood. She had been waiting in Fang’s office when Fang came in that morning, but she had also spent quite a bit of time waffling before finally setting her papers on the desk for inspection.
“This seems like a lot of pages for a resignation…”
“The rest of it’s flight transfer forms, census stuff for the Stormcatcher, you know. I thought you probably wouldn’t want to have to fill that out yourself, and since I was technically still the clan rep until I gave you that letter my signature counts.” She grinned, one of those defensive grins that only serves to make everyone involved more uncomfortable.
Fang flipped through the stack of papers, searching desperately for something filled out wrong, a missed signature or an incorrect statistic. “Why do you want to resign?” It was not exactly the question she meant to ask, and not one she needed an answer to, but What can I do to convince you to stay? sounded a little too…pathetic, to her mind.
Syzygy’s grin widened. “It’s just, you know,” her voice wobbled through a few different registers, “we’ve had a good run, and I’m grateful for the experience, but I’ve had an offer from another clan and they’re, well, they’re much easier to make sound good…?”
“I see.” Fang sighed. There’d been a rash of departures lately—Farrier declaring she’d rather die than work around so much “asinine magical bullshit”, Rhyncus taking a high-ranking position in the Stormcatcher’s service, and so on—but Syzygy was the only one who’d bothered to be so formal about it. And, Lorenz’s panic over his promotion notwithstanding, she was also the one they could least afford to lose.
“If you like,” Syzygy said, “I’m…there are some unemployed diplomats I know who might be willing to work with you, if I spoke to them. I could send them your way? I’ll, ah, screen them for unfortunate connections first.”
“That would be a great help,” Fang said. Syzygy had been a great help to the clan, if a bit blunt at times, and if they couldn’t keep her on then someone she trusted would be the next best thing.
“Great! It really has been lovely being part of this clan,” Syzygy said hurriedly, “it’s just that I have to think about my reputation, and my, ah, stress levels, you know. I’ll send you some candidates!” And with that, she was gone.
Three days later, Marya flitted into Fang’s office, a bag with an alarming dark stain slung over her shoulder. Fang began to consider getting called away from her desk more often.
“This isn’t for you,” Marya said, which was only slightly reassuring. “I was picking up some things for Nereus, and did you know there’s a whole lot of dragons out in the canyon? Couple miles from here.”
That could mean any number of things, most of them bad. “Are they armed?”
“A few, but they’re not invading,” Marya said, “I asked. They were all talking about some kind of ambassadorial contract or something.”
“That explains it. How many are there?”
Marya shrugged. “A lot. Can I go?”
“Yes, fine.” Fang watched the Nocturne depart, and went to find Chrysanthemum.
A lot turned out to be seventeen, most of them chatting rather amicably considering they were all competing for the same position. Most of them looked up at Fang and Chrys’s approach. One, a Mirror on the larger side, stepped forward.
“Good afternoon,” he said. “We are associates of Ambassador Syzygy; she directed us to this place. Can I assume you are the leader of the local clan?”
“You can,” Fang said. She nodded to Chrys. “This is the clan interpreter, Chrysanthemum, should any of you have need of translation.” She thought she saw at least one Coatl lurking at the back.
“Excellent,” said the Mirror. “My name is Cathex. Syzygy didn’t tell us the name of your clan; what is it?”
Fang had a sudden sense of foreboding.
When she failed to answer, Chrys stepped in. “Among most, we are known as Clan Sparkspell,” he said, in what Fang recognized as his best formal voice.
There was a rush of movement among the gathered diplomats, as those who had been seated got to their feet in rather a hurry. Several exchanged nervous glances. Cathex looked blank. “Ah,” he said, “ah.” There was a brief, strained silence during which Chrys moved slowly behind Fang, his frills folding back along his neck. Then all the diplomats started talking at once.
“I think—”
“—nothing personal—”
“—too far away from my home flight—”
“—just don’t want to put up with all those regulations—”
“—the weather—”
“—not available to work with you after all.”
They did not exactly flee en masse, but they might as well have.
One dragon remained, a lean Skydancer who watched the rest go with an expression of amusement. After a moment Chrys said, “So, uh…”
“So,” the Skydancer said, without turning toward Fang and Chrys, “Syzygy used to tell us these horror stories about this clan she was in that was a PR nightmare, stealing and falsifying records and blowing shit up. Clan Sparkspell, obviously.” They smirked. “A few days ago she tells us she knows this clan without an ambassador, a good job opportunity and all, and at the same time she tells us she has a new job. Now I don’t mean to malign my colleagues, I’m sure they’re all very good at what they do, but you’d think they could put two and two together a little.”
A pause. Fang said, “And knowing this, you came to meet us because…?”
“Well, Fang—you’ve got to be Fang, right? I like to think I am also very good at my job, and I like a challenge.” They turned away from their fleeing associates. “And hey, your unfortunate track record might actually be an asset in some negotiations! I know clans Syzygy wouldn’t touch.”
“Is that a good thing?”
They shrugged. “Guess it depends on what you’re looking for. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not proposing you get involved with some murderous cult, although I do know one or two. I just think I can find allies who will appreciate your clan’s talents.”
Fang considered. Mostly, she considered how much easier this all would be if Vinegar had been around to help. But one must make do with what one has. There were other ways of finding an ambassador—she could even find an official Lightning-sanctioned one if she really wanted—but they were time-consuming and not guaranteed to go anywhere, and the position needed filling as soon as possible.
As for the Skydancer referring to her clan as a challenge, well, she’d certainly thought so often enough.
“We’ll take you on for a trial period,” she said. “Potentially to lead to a permanent contract, and all that entails.”
“Wonderful!” the Skydancer said, and to Fang’s mild surprise sounded entirely sincere. “You can call me Seth. I think you’ll find we work well together.”
“We’ll see,” Fang said, but she was inclined to agree.
“It’s a resignation letter. Haven’t you ever seen one before?”
Fang peered disbelievingly over the desk at Syzygy, who shuffled uncomfortably where she stood. She had been waiting in Fang’s office when Fang came in that morning, but she had also spent quite a bit of time waffling before finally setting her papers on the desk for inspection.
“This seems like a lot of pages for a resignation…”
“The rest of it’s flight transfer forms, census stuff for the Stormcatcher, you know. I thought you probably wouldn’t want to have to fill that out yourself, and since I was technically still the clan rep until I gave you that letter my signature counts.” She grinned, one of those defensive grins that only serves to make everyone involved more uncomfortable.
Fang flipped through the stack of papers, searching desperately for something filled out wrong, a missed signature or an incorrect statistic. “Why do you want to resign?” It was not exactly the question she meant to ask, and not one she needed an answer to, but What can I do to convince you to stay? sounded a little too…pathetic, to her mind.
Syzygy’s grin widened. “It’s just, you know,” her voice wobbled through a few different registers, “we’ve had a good run, and I’m grateful for the experience, but I’ve had an offer from another clan and they’re, well, they’re much easier to make sound good…?”
“I see.” Fang sighed. There’d been a rash of departures lately—Farrier declaring she’d rather die than work around so much “asinine magical bullshit”, Rhyncus taking a high-ranking position in the Stormcatcher’s service, and so on—but Syzygy was the only one who’d bothered to be so formal about it. And, Lorenz’s panic over his promotion notwithstanding, she was also the one they could least afford to lose.
“If you like,” Syzygy said, “I’m…there are some unemployed diplomats I know who might be willing to work with you, if I spoke to them. I could send them your way? I’ll, ah, screen them for unfortunate connections first.”
“That would be a great help,” Fang said. Syzygy had been a great help to the clan, if a bit blunt at times, and if they couldn’t keep her on then someone she trusted would be the next best thing.
“Great! It really has been lovely being part of this clan,” Syzygy said hurriedly, “it’s just that I have to think about my reputation, and my, ah, stress levels, you know. I’ll send you some candidates!” And with that, she was gone.
Three days later, Marya flitted into Fang’s office, a bag with an alarming dark stain slung over her shoulder. Fang began to consider getting called away from her desk more often.
“This isn’t for you,” Marya said, which was only slightly reassuring. “I was picking up some things for Nereus, and did you know there’s a whole lot of dragons out in the canyon? Couple miles from here.”
That could mean any number of things, most of them bad. “Are they armed?”
“A few, but they’re not invading,” Marya said, “I asked. They were all talking about some kind of ambassadorial contract or something.”
“That explains it. How many are there?”
Marya shrugged. “A lot. Can I go?”
“Yes, fine.” Fang watched the Nocturne depart, and went to find Chrysanthemum.
A lot turned out to be seventeen, most of them chatting rather amicably considering they were all competing for the same position. Most of them looked up at Fang and Chrys’s approach. One, a Mirror on the larger side, stepped forward.
“Good afternoon,” he said. “We are associates of Ambassador Syzygy; she directed us to this place. Can I assume you are the leader of the local clan?”
“You can,” Fang said. She nodded to Chrys. “This is the clan interpreter, Chrysanthemum, should any of you have need of translation.” She thought she saw at least one Coatl lurking at the back.
“Excellent,” said the Mirror. “My name is Cathex. Syzygy didn’t tell us the name of your clan; what is it?”
Fang had a sudden sense of foreboding.
When she failed to answer, Chrys stepped in. “Among most, we are known as Clan Sparkspell,” he said, in what Fang recognized as his best formal voice.
There was a rush of movement among the gathered diplomats, as those who had been seated got to their feet in rather a hurry. Several exchanged nervous glances. Cathex looked blank. “Ah,” he said, “ah.” There was a brief, strained silence during which Chrys moved slowly behind Fang, his frills folding back along his neck. Then all the diplomats started talking at once.
“I think—”
“—nothing personal—”
“—too far away from my home flight—”
“—just don’t want to put up with all those regulations—”
“—the weather—”
“—not available to work with you after all.”
They did not exactly flee en masse, but they might as well have.
One dragon remained, a lean Skydancer who watched the rest go with an expression of amusement. After a moment Chrys said, “So, uh…”
“So,” the Skydancer said, without turning toward Fang and Chrys, “Syzygy used to tell us these horror stories about this clan she was in that was a PR nightmare, stealing and falsifying records and blowing shit up. Clan Sparkspell, obviously.” They smirked. “A few days ago she tells us she knows this clan without an ambassador, a good job opportunity and all, and at the same time she tells us she has a new job. Now I don’t mean to malign my colleagues, I’m sure they’re all very good at what they do, but you’d think they could put two and two together a little.”
A pause. Fang said, “And knowing this, you came to meet us because…?”
“Well, Fang—you’ve got to be Fang, right? I like to think I am also very good at my job, and I like a challenge.” They turned away from their fleeing associates. “And hey, your unfortunate track record might actually be an asset in some negotiations! I know clans Syzygy wouldn’t touch.”
“Is that a good thing?”
They shrugged. “Guess it depends on what you’re looking for. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not proposing you get involved with some murderous cult, although I do know one or two. I just think I can find allies who will appreciate your clan’s talents.”
Fang considered. Mostly, she considered how much easier this all would be if Vinegar had been around to help. But one must make do with what one has. There were other ways of finding an ambassador—she could even find an official Lightning-sanctioned one if she really wanted—but they were time-consuming and not guaranteed to go anywhere, and the position needed filling as soon as possible.
As for the Skydancer referring to her clan as a challenge, well, she’d certainly thought so often enough.
“We’ll take you on for a trial period,” she said. “Potentially to lead to a permanent contract, and all that entails.”
“Wonderful!” the Skydancer said, and to Fang’s mild surprise sounded entirely sincere. “You can call me Seth. I think you’ll find we work well together.”
“We’ll see,” Fang said, but she was inclined to agree.