serpentofotranto

[serpentofotranto]

Joseph laughs outright at Charles' quip.

"My dear, even becoming God the Father would not be enough to eclipse your flaws. Lucky for you, you don't need any body's approval, and your flaws are horribly charming to me."

He frowns and nods at Talleyrand's concerns about the British monarchy. Dealing with this bunch of half-mad stuck-ups is the last thing he needs when he is already dealing with one stuck up (Wellington) and two half-mad (Junot and the Prince) people.

He listens to Charles' account of the Americas, his curiosity piqued.

"You took a liking to the sea? Insanity, as far as I'm concerned."

He bites his lip. "Of course you made it out intact. The sea could never be so kind to me as to spare my loved ones and take away my adversaries. Now that you've changed category, it might be wise for you to avoid the water."

He says it on a light, ironic tone, but a real anxiety lays below it. The ocean has taken too much from him through the years, including his rights as eldest son and his relationship with his father had fractured as a result of Monsieur Fouché père's disappointment. Later, the depths had then swallowed any chance of reconciliation alongside his father.

"I am sure France was delighted to have you back as well."

It's getting time to feed Nièvre, and she looks up at her father expectantly. He picks her up and secures her into her chair.

[ @monsieurdetalleyrand ]

[Continuation]

Joseph leans back against Charles, although he minds his bad leg. His partner has a certain warmth about him, seeping through the cloth and reaching him.

"I saw that. I never thought Michel Junot had anything special about him, but the masses clearly think differently. If you say we ought to charm him into accepting his son's marriage - let us be honest, the prince isn't exactly an ideal son-in-law, then we will. We'll make up imaginary virtues if we have to, but perhaps the simple attraction of the crown will be enough. Important titles can make parents blind to many a fault."

He cracks a smile at Charles. He doubts even the duchy of Otranto could have gained the approval of the late patriarch de Talleyrand-Périgord or his wife.

"If we have to repeat the same circus with the English royal family, I'll let you do it. You were an American real estate agent for a while, after all, you are positively fluent in their barbaric language."

The scientific man in him spurs him to ask a tangential question : "How is it over there, I never had the occasion to ask. To live, I mean, I've heard enough about their ports and docks for a lifetime."

[ @monsieurdetalleyrand with deepest affection ]

[serpentofotranto]

🐍🐍⛵

Carrier

What about Carrier?

[serpentofotranto]

[Continuation]

Joseph leans back against Charles, although he minds his bad leg. His partner has a certain warmth about him, seeping through the cloth and reaching him.

"I saw that. I never thought Michel Junot had anything special about him, but the masses clearly think differently. If you say we ought to charm him into accepting his son's marriage - let us be honest, the prince isn't exactly an ideal son-in-law, then we will. We'll make up imaginary virtues if we have to, but perhaps the simple attraction of the crown will be enough. Important titles can make parents blind to many a fault."

He cracks a smile at Charles. He doubts even the duchy of Otranto could have gained the approval of the late patriarch de Talleyrand-Périgord or his wife.

"If we have to repeat the same circus with the English royal family, I'll let you do it. You were an American real estate agent for a while, after all, you are positively fluent in their barbaric language."

The scientific man in him spurs him to ask a tangential question : "How is it over there, I never had the occasion to ask. To live, I mean, I've heard enough about their ports and docks for a lifetime."

[ @monsieurdetalleyrand with deepest affection ]

[serpentofotranto]

Joseph laughed at the discovery that a Talleyrand had maybe sat on the throne of France. "And the nation survived that? Impressive." The mental image was absurd, but no less than the politics they had known during their life.

He grimaced at the description of his son's behavior. "He was already a terror as a child. I don't know where he got it from. My brother was like that, I suppose, but they never knew each other."

He smiled fondly. "Still, what wouldn't I give to see him again."

He cleared his throat. Look at them getting emotional like a pair of old fools. He rested a hand on Charles' arm, watching Nièvre attack her chiffon doll with vigorous enthusiasm.

"So, how are the preparations coming along? I find it difficult enough to wrangle these two lunatics on their own without involving Wellington, and now Junot throws his parents into the mix."

Charles hadn't seen Joseph since his birthday, which was almost a week ago. For himself, who had become accustomed with seeing him almost all the time, it was almost too long. The newly-renowned former bishop had spent the last few days dealing with the preparations for Junot's forthcoming wedding - at first, the idea bored him deeply and he only agreed to play along to satisfy his lover's whims, but now he found a certain amusement in this unofficial job. For his part, Joseph seemed busy with his own matters. Charles mused that he was probably plotting a new clever scheme in the darkness, being absolutely unaware of the miraculous reappearance that had occupied almost all the attention of Monsieur le Duc d'Otrante over the last few days.

He arrived in front of his house at around two o'clock, with the intention to spend the afternoon and perhaps also the evening here. It had become a habit for them to tell each other their latest progress and, above all, the latest fresh gossip they managed to gather.

When Joseph opened the door, as soon as it closed behind them, he almost immediately demanded a kiss. He didn't bother with politeness or useless words, not even a bonjour; he had missed this man terribly, his presence having become indispensable to him, and he didn't want to waste any more time. He closed his arms around him to bring his body closer and sought his lips once more, but was interrupted by an unusual noise coming from the living room.

A sound that resembled either a cat's meow or a baby's noise. The two were uncannily similar to his ear. Intrigued, he turned his head to see what it was, and that's when he saw it. And it wasn't a cat. It was the second option. What the- okay.

His first reaction was a slight laugh that escaped him, a little shocked. Especially as this child bore a striking resemblance to Joseph, starting with the hair color.

“Oh! That is a new one. So is this why you always come to my house and never the other way around? You were hiding this from me?”

He didn't seem angry, just stunned and a little amused. Tho maybe the laughs and jokes were also a bit nervous.

“Did we do that?”

I know. Stupid question, in theory.

But in this strange world, you never know the supernatural things that happen every day and wring the neck of scientific logic.

[@serpentofotranto]

[serpentofotranto]

Charles was clearly upset by his question, which took Joseph by surprise. He then enumerated his children as if remembering their names was a proof of his love.

Ah, so the painter was indeed his boy.

Treading carefully, but still curious, Joseph pushed the subject further.

"Well in that case, I pity you. If you did love them, I can't imagine how you survived being away from them like that. I would go mad. I thought I was going mad, when Nièvre was dying and I couldn't be with her because I was hiding. It was the worst pain I have ever known."

He tried to imagine how it is, to have children who can never know you are their father, to watch them grow from a distance. The very idea was like a pit in his stomach.

"Did it work?"

He clarified after a confused glance.

"Did they grow to be happy and fulfilled? And good people? I find some of that is more up to chance than parenting, in the end."

He sighed and leaned back against the heavy wooden table. "I didn't know what happened with Joseph, to be honest. If we were too soft with him, because he was the first to make it this far. Or if he was always going to be this rambunctious."

He hoped he could distract Charles from his wounded feelings by making him sad, but even if it didn't work they were at least opening up to one another.

Charles hadn't seen Joseph since his birthday, which was almost a week ago. For himself, who had become accustomed with seeing him almost all the time, it was almost too long. The newly-renowned former bishop had spent the last few days dealing with the preparations for Junot's forthcoming wedding - at first, the idea bored him deeply and he only agreed to play along to satisfy his lover's whims, but now he found a certain amusement in this unofficial job. For his part, Joseph seemed busy with his own matters. Charles mused that he was probably plotting a new clever scheme in the darkness, being absolutely unaware of the miraculous reappearance that had occupied almost all the attention of Monsieur le Duc d'Otrante over the last few days.

He arrived in front of his house at around two o'clock, with the intention to spend the afternoon and perhaps also the evening here. It had become a habit for them to tell each other their latest progress and, above all, the latest fresh gossip they managed to gather.

When Joseph opened the door, as soon as it closed behind them, he almost immediately demanded a kiss. He didn't bother with politeness or useless words, not even a bonjour; he had missed this man terribly, his presence having become indispensable to him, and he didn't want to waste any more time. He closed his arms around him to bring his body closer and sought his lips once more, but was interrupted by an unusual noise coming from the living room.

A sound that resembled either a cat's meow or a baby's noise. The two were uncannily similar to his ear. Intrigued, he turned his head to see what it was, and that's when he saw it. And it wasn't a cat. It was the second option. What the- okay.

His first reaction was a slight laugh that escaped him, a little shocked. Especially as this child bore a striking resemblance to Joseph, starting with the hair color.

“Oh! That is a new one. So is this why you always come to my house and never the other way around? You were hiding this from me?”

He didn't seem angry, just stunned and a little amused. Tho maybe the laughs and jokes were also a bit nervous.

“Did we do that?”

I know. Stupid question, in theory.

But in this strange world, you never know the supernatural things that happen every day and wring the neck of scientific logic.

[@serpentofotranto]

[serpentofotranto]

Charles's eyes flash in anger when he tells the story of the letter, and Joseph surprised by this intensity of feeling.

Charles soon gave up on holding Nièvre, and handed her back to him. He got a kiss in return, and wasn't this lovely. Charles asked his next question with some hesitation, and they both knew very well why.

"I know you don't like children overmuch."

He returned Nièvre to the floor, where she started zooming around at the fastest speed her hands and knees allowed for.

"I would ask you to be a friend to her. I don't want to force anything more upon you, but I won't tolerate anything less. And, well, seeing as I have to take care of her, you'll have to accept that she comes along with being in my life. If you want me then you must adapt to having her around perhaps more than you would normally like."

That was simply unavoidable, especially since he was her sole guardian here.

He fell contemplative for a moment.

"I never asked, but... Why didn't you like your children?" It seemed so absurd to him. Adoring his children had come more easily him than breathing, from the first time he'd laid eyes on each of them.

Charles hadn't seen Joseph since his birthday, which was almost a week ago. For himself, who had become accustomed with seeing him almost all the time, it was almost too long. The newly-renowned former bishop had spent the last few days dealing with the preparations for Junot's forthcoming wedding - at first, the idea bored him deeply and he only agreed to play along to satisfy his lover's whims, but now he found a certain amusement in this unofficial job. For his part, Joseph seemed busy with his own matters. Charles mused that he was probably plotting a new clever scheme in the darkness, being absolutely unaware of the miraculous reappearance that had occupied almost all the attention of Monsieur le Duc d'Otrante over the last few days.

He arrived in front of his house at around two o'clock, with the intention to spend the afternoon and perhaps also the evening here. It had become a habit for them to tell each other their latest progress and, above all, the latest fresh gossip they managed to gather.

When Joseph opened the door, as soon as it closed behind them, he almost immediately demanded a kiss. He didn't bother with politeness or useless words, not even a bonjour; he had missed this man terribly, his presence having become indispensable to him, and he didn't want to waste any more time. He closed his arms around him to bring his body closer and sought his lips once more, but was interrupted by an unusual noise coming from the living room.

A sound that resembled either a cat's meow or a baby's noise. The two were uncannily similar to his ear. Intrigued, he turned his head to see what it was, and that's when he saw it. And it wasn't a cat. It was the second option. What the- okay.

His first reaction was a slight laugh that escaped him, a little shocked. Especially as this child bore a striking resemblance to Joseph, starting with the hair color.

“Oh! That is a new one. So is this why you always come to my house and never the other way around? You were hiding this from me?”

He didn't seem angry, just stunned and a little amused. Tho maybe the laughs and jokes were also a bit nervous.

“Did we do that?”

I know. Stupid question, in theory.

But in this strange world, you never know the supernatural things that happen every day and wring the neck of scientific logic.

[@serpentofotranto]

[serpentofotranto]

Charles seemed a little bit awkward being handed Nièvre, but he handled her in the proper way. He was smiling at her and talking to her sweetly, which won him quite a bit of favor with the father. He immediately lost those points by handing her the ring, but reacted quickly enough to take it away from her mouth that Joseph didn't have to intervene.

Nièvre of course started moving around, and Joseph watched in amusement as Charles tried to contain her. He was earnestly trying, at least. His question dimmed Joseph's fun.

"No, they haven't. I had hoped, but it's been a week and no sign."

The next question was a loaded one, and he noted the blunt neutrality in Talleyrand's tone. Like he didn't want to betray the slightest interest in the question.

"No."

He hesitated. Did he trust enough to confide?

"In fact, someone sent a letter pretending to be her, showering me in insults. If anything, that was a final straw that made me feel like - like she and I will not see each other again. She's not for this world. Maybe that's why all my schemes have been a little slow lately."

He managed a smile, as if he was not in pain. Charles maintained his careful expression.

"But I am grateful to have even just Nièvre back. It's more than I could have ever hoped for. I've got her, and I've got you. That's already pretty good if you ask me."

This time, Charles couldn't hide his feelings. Neither could Nièvre, who exclaimed "Ada! Aooooooo."

[ @monsieurdetalleyrand ]

Charles hadn't seen Joseph since his birthday, which was almost a week ago. For himself, who had become accustomed with seeing him almost all the time, it was almost too long. The newly-renowned former bishop had spent the last few days dealing with the preparations for Junot's forthcoming wedding - at first, the idea bored him deeply and he only agreed to play along to satisfy his lover's whims, but now he found a certain amusement in this unofficial job. For his part, Joseph seemed busy with his own matters. Charles mused that he was probably plotting a new clever scheme in the darkness, being absolutely unaware of the miraculous reappearance that had occupied almost all the attention of Monsieur le Duc d'Otrante over the last few days.

He arrived in front of his house at around two o'clock, with the intention to spend the afternoon and perhaps also the evening here. It had become a habit for them to tell each other their latest progress and, above all, the latest fresh gossip they managed to gather.

When Joseph opened the door, as soon as it closed behind them, he almost immediately demanded a kiss. He didn't bother with politeness or useless words, not even a bonjour; he had missed this man terribly, his presence having become indispensable to him, and he didn't want to waste any more time. He closed his arms around him to bring his body closer and sought his lips once more, but was interrupted by an unusual noise coming from the living room.

A sound that resembled either a cat's meow or a baby's noise. The two were uncannily similar to his ear. Intrigued, he turned his head to see what it was, and that's when he saw it. And it wasn't a cat. It was the second option. What the- okay.

His first reaction was a slight laugh that escaped him, a little shocked. Especially as this child bore a striking resemblance to Joseph, starting with the hair color.

“Oh! That is a new one. So is this why you always come to my house and never the other way around? You were hiding this from me?”

He didn't seem angry, just stunned and a little amused. Tho maybe the laughs and jokes were also a bit nervous.

“Did we do that?”

I know. Stupid question, in theory.

But in this strange world, you never know the supernatural things that happen every day and wring the neck of scientific logic.

[@serpentofotranto]

[serpentofotranto]

*for the next three days you will have the haircut you have in the Carême Tv series*

Fouché stares in horror as his hair seems to have gone completely grey overnight - it was already a good part of the way there, but this is too much too soon. And more alarmingly, it has grown down to his back, longer even than it was during his younger years when he wore it in the fashion of the time.

Things click into place a little more when he finds this letter. It doesn't really make sense, but at least there is a clear time limit. He sighs resignedly and attempts a queue like in the 1780s, but finds a strand at the front stubbornly refuses to be tied back and falls along his face whatever he does.

He gives it up as a bad job and goes to find Nièvre. After initial confusion and weariness, the baby accepts the change and he soon finds out that her little grabby hands strongly approve of the new style.

[serpentofotranto]

🐍🐍🐍 🍲↘️

"Please don't put any snakes in soup."

[serpentofotranto]

Joseph, how dare you even consider being with Talleyrand? I’ve been waiting for you beyond this life. Have you already forgotten me? I, who followed you, who helped you through even your darkest moments — even enduring the mockery of your friend Barras for your sake and when Bonaparte stripped you of your position, I stood by you and helped you in every way I could. So you prefer Talleyrand over me? Is that it? I might have understood if it were Ernestine, since you couldn’t bear being alone… but him — and now that you’re dead and I’m still waiting for you? I never would have believed this of you. Please reassure me, tell me that I am the person you were truly in love with.

Bonne-Jeanne Fouché

Fouché sits clutching the letter, boiling with rage. How dare they. How dare some impudent unknown pretend to be his beloved wife, the one who was always by his side through grief and joy. It was a poor attempt, not even close to imitating her handwriting or the way she wrote, which he would have recognized among thousands.

It was so shoddy a fabrication that he could have laughed it off, if it didn't hit so deep. The question of whether Bonne-Jeanne would approve of his choice had plagued him before he proposed to Ernestine, and had returned to him now. She'd told him she wanted him to remarry, for the children and for himself.

Now, though, the children were not weighing into the equation. Nièvre was there, but he could manage her alone. The idea that Bonne-Jeanne would have been disappointed by his moving on when she was somewhere out of reach from this Afterlife, sent a cold shiver down his spine. He truly believed he could never love like he had loved her, but Talleyrand made him happy, and wouldn't she have wanted that?

He was a schemer of the indifferent and cold type, like she had been. The citoyenne Fouché had been an equal partner in everything he had done, every complicated betrayal he'd planned. In this way, Talleyrand was more like her than Ernestine had been.

He closed his eyes and sighed. The simple truth of it was that he couldn't know. Certainly not from an impostor who was just trying to hurt him, but he was also faced with the dreadful fact that it was useless to hope he could ever see Bonne-Jeanne, or even Ernestine, ever again. Clearly they had been spared the nonending life in this place - as had, he had noticed, most of the people he knew. Only those who had made an important dent in the course of history seemed to ever show up here.

He looked back at the letter. Hah. As if his calm, collected love would ever be pleading and raging like that. She'd been the jealous type, certainly, which had been amusing to the idiots around them - she wasn't at much risk of having her husband stolen, he wasn't exactly drowning in suitors. Perhaps she'd have been upset after all. But she was gone for good.

He did not love often. Among the few he had, she stood out and always would, as not just his love but his other half. But it was no use holding on to the past in this strange territory. The only way was forward, and he should not let this stupid letter and its idiotic sender pull him away from courting happiness. Or, rather, from being courted.

[serpentofotranto]

No it would not.

Do you intend to commit the sin of adultery against Fouché now that you're starting to be a couple with him?

Use your head and think about it, my friend: would it be a wise and pragmatic decision to try cheating on Joseph Fouché?

[serpentofotranto]

Someone is apparently upset with you, your boss, and your colleague https://www.tumblr.com/le-dieu-mars/784159076755079168/buonaparte-the-time-has-come-to-settle-accounts?source=share 👀. Is this true of what he said?

Babeuf is always angry at everyone about everything. He threatens me and calls me a lackey at least once a week. He can yell whatever he wants if it pleases him.

[serpentofotranto]

If it can reassure you there is a divergence between you and Turreau , in your private life you don't resemble Turreau. At least you don't mistreat your wife…

Even if in public life you betray as much as him .

"At least"? Is that not the most important?

[serpentofotranto]

Joseph had somewhat lost track of time since his daughter's appearance, lost in his elation. He didn't realize he'd been rather neglecting his lover until the man waltzed into his home and threw himself into his arms. Luckily the man didn't seem cross with him.

Before he could get a word in, however, Charles had turned around and, although he now had his face away from where Joseph could see it, his eyes no doubt landed on the child currently observing a chair leg with great interest. A high pitched nervous laugh escaped from him.

"I wasn't hiding anything! I got distracted looking after her and didn't see the week go by. And no, I usually visit you rather than the other way around because I don't want to force you to walk. Or inhabit quarters more sober than you are used to."

He held back the "I wasn't sure you could withstand sitting on anything but pure silk cushions" for the moment. This was a delicate situation.

Charles' next question had his eyebrows raise to his hairline. "Excuse me? Do I need to explain to you the many ways in which that is impossible? We didn't do this, Bonne-Jeanne and I did this."

He left Charles' side to go pick Nièvre. The child gurgled happily and reached her little hand up to pat his chin.

"This is my firstborn daughter, Nièvre. She appeared here a few days ago, I don't know how or why. But she's here to stay."

He smiled at her with a world of pride.

"She passed so young, so long ago. I didn't dream I could ever lay eyes on her again, but here she is."

It occurred to Joseph that from now on, he would like to establish a life in which Charles and Nièvre shared a considerable amount of his time and attention. It would therefore be good for them to get to know each other.

He walked back to Charles with the child, and held her up so she could see him. Immediately, she reached out to the buttons of his coat, fascinated by the shiny things.

"My darling, this is Charles, he's my... Partner. I think you will be seeing him often, at least, I certainly hope so."

He looked back up at Charles with a tentative smile. The man was famously not inclined to fatherly feelings.

[ @monsieurdetalleyrand ]

Charles hadn't seen Joseph since his birthday, which was almost a week ago. For himself, who had become accustomed with seeing him almost all the time, it was almost too long. The newly-renowned former bishop had spent the last few days dealing with the preparations for Junot's forthcoming wedding - at first, the idea bored him deeply and he only agreed to play along to satisfy his lover's whims, but now he found a certain amusement in this unofficial job. For his part, Joseph seemed busy with his own matters. Charles mused that he was probably plotting a new clever scheme in the darkness, being absolutely unaware of the miraculous reappearance that had occupied almost all the attention of Monsieur le Duc d'Otrante over the last few days.

He arrived in front of his house at around two o'clock, with the intention to spend the afternoon and perhaps also the evening here. It had become a habit for them to tell each other their latest progress and, above all, the latest fresh gossip they managed to gather.

When Joseph opened the door, as soon as it closed behind them, he almost immediately demanded a kiss. He didn't bother with politeness or useless words, not even a bonjour; he had missed this man terribly, his presence having become indispensable to him, and he didn't want to waste any more time. He closed his arms around him to bring his body closer and sought his lips once more, but was interrupted by an unusual noise coming from the living room.

A sound that resembled either a cat's meow or a baby's noise. The two were uncannily similar to his ear. Intrigued, he turned his head to see what it was, and that's when he saw it. And it wasn't a cat. It was the second option. What the- okay.

His first reaction was a slight laugh that escaped him, a little shocked. Especially as this child bore a striking resemblance to Joseph, starting with the hair color.

“Oh! That is a new one. So is this why you always come to my house and never the other way around? You were hiding this from me?”

He didn't seem angry, just stunned and a little amused. Tho maybe the laughs and jokes were also a bit nervous.

“Did we do that?”

I know. Stupid question, in theory.

But in this strange world, you never know the supernatural things that happen every day and wring the neck of scientific logic.

[@serpentofotranto]

[serpentofotranto]

You gave a pension to Collot d'Herbois's widow. Was it because, deep down, you still liked Collot even after everything that happened? Or because his widow is more bearable than he was?

Call it a bit of humane feeling. I don't like to leave a woman I've personally known fully destitute and fending for herself. I did the same with @citoyennelottie , so Mme Collot was not a unique case.

[serpentofotranto]

"Oh so writing salaciously about nuns is fine, but when I destroy a few churches in Lyon, suddenly it's a scandal?"

Organt - the unpublished parts

"And the knight said to the pious old nun: 'I have a few different colors of rope in the back.' - 'Oh and the riding crop?' she asked, with a gasp, like she knew; 'I have that too.' 'A knife?...' 'I have all shades of royal-blood blue. And I sincerely hope you know that all of these are for you.' "

[serpentofotranto]

Fouché makes some space for the incredible bore. He doesn't know what possessed Talleyrand to invite him to sit down, but he will remember it, and Talleyrand is going to hear his thoughts about it. Still, he put on his most polite face.

"Indeed this is the first time we visit this place, we had no idea you were a regular customer." Otherwise we wouldn't have come. "Do you always come alone?"

The café is busy, which both means less chances of being overhead and more chances of being seen.

At least Charles seemed to take over the conversation. It soon became obvious that his aim was to make Carnot even more embarrassed and awkward than he was before, and Joseph was inclined to forgive his little stunt on grounds of having a worthy goal.

Carnot looked well enough, at least better than when they had last seen each other (alive). Less stressed, possibly, although not for long if Charles had his way. He hadn't said anything about seeing the two of them together intimately being odd, so far.

@monsieurdetalleyrand and @lazarecarnot

It is a lovely day to go for a walk. Talleyrand is, understandably, not fond of walking around "without aim or reason" but Fouché has managed to coax him into it. Some fresh air and exercice is good, he's been told since he was a child in a desperate attempt to make him worthy of his father's legacy.

Today the air is warm and the sun is shining, but the sky is mottled with clouds. He has fun pointing out various formations to Talleyrand, and explaining the thermodynamics behind the appearance of the cirrus, the stratus and the altocumulus. His companion seems reasonably invested, proof that he hasn't lost his touch as a teacher in the many years since the Oratoriens.

Of course, Charles Maurice being himself, he manages to stir the conversation into gossip about various people populating their afterlife, new arrivals and new dynamics. It is pleasant, arm in arm along what looks like the banks of the Seine in bloom.

They have strayed rather far from their respective territories, but Fouché is familiar with the complex web of the various realms surrounding them. It seems unlikely that they will come across anyone here, and certainly not the dark forces that lurk at the edges of the maps and the minds.

He hums in agreement with something Talleyrand says.

"Of course, they're always squabbling. A little clash of egos and a real fight are much too different to put much stake on the line taking sides."

[ @monsieurdetalleyrand ]