Dmitri offers an appreciative, sideways nod to Faolan as he swats Rin's hand. Not looking at them, only pointing toward their seat at the table.
Rin huffs, shoots Faolan what's almost a glare (but isn't not a little bit impressed that he caught them), Messages [ Don't you know about honor among thieves?? ], and slips a ball bearing into Dima's pocket.
They might as well do something.
And as they return to their seat, looking suspiciously like they're in a sulk, they Message Sen, [ Maybe next time. >:/ ]
<.>
Faolan gazes back at Rin unperturbed before replying, [ Whores have no honor. Haven't you heard? ]
If Rin says anything further, Faolan's fixation on his food after that comment makes him strangely deaf to Messages.
Sen leans over and kisses Rin's horns before allowing the conversation to turn to the matter of Calabra. "I'm particularly curious about why we were approached, and what caused him to think Gower would be where we found him. That doesn't seem like a guess to me."
Faolan tosses in, "Is it stupidity or arrogance, do you suppose? Assuming he just sent out his servant with the intent of finding Payl Gower's ghost, and wasn't trying to find the Market for some other reason." It's an uncomfortable thought to entertain: what would Calabra want with the dead besides information?
<.>
Rin does in fact reply, looking puzzled all over again, [ Wait, I don't know what YOU'VE heard but that's very RUDE, Faolan. ]
And, when there's no answer: [ No, that's lies, of COURSE they do. ]
And: [ Faolan? FAOLAN. I'm not about to DO anything. ]
They'd be sulking even more obviously, were it not for that kiss from Sen. That turns them around, and Rin decides that there'll be occasion enough to grab the contract another time, and maybe also grab something from Faolan, just for implying whatever he was (??) implying (??).
Rin darts a kiss to Sen's cheek, hands him a grape. "It's all pretty suspicious, just the question's in what way. He said something about asking someone, an oracle or... What was it? Diviner, maybe that. And he seemed honest about everything, but maybe he's just good at lies. A lot of rich fuckers are."
Actually. Speaking of rich fuckers. Rin looks at Dmitri: "Is Calabra a necromancer, or what?"
[INS: nat 1
dm: Hasn't heard a thing.]
In response to Rin's question, Dmitri looks blatantly offended. "I can't imagine he would be in the least. It isn't a particularly profitable preoccupation, nor one liable to gain laudation.
"It doesn't negate to possibility that he does indeed want something from the dead, or from access to the Market. For himself, or for someone he's... Mm. Either eager to impress, or already joined with in accordance.
"The ass may also have been coaxed into meeting with a diviner out of fear for his hide. Whether he's thought much about why Gower of all people should have been sent, I can't say. Calabra has his resourceful moments, as I understand, but is hardly what I'd call circumspect.
"Whatever the case, it'll be worth inquiring among the servants whether Calabra showed signs of interest in the Nightmare Market before the incident with Gower."
Rin, who has been very busy studying their hand against Sen's, chimes in again with, "You know what's weird. Or maybe kind of weird, is why'd the guard even kill Payl at all? Payl's not really an imposing sort of person or he doesn't seem like he was, and that guard was built.”
<.>
Faolan senses Dmitri's piqued ire and without thinking, reaches out and rests a hand on his wrist. He seems unaware of the movement and doesn't withdraw immediately.
Sen, meanwhile, shoves his plate to the side and starts to fuss through his clothes in search of his pipe, leaning back only when the barmaid brings Rin their requested drink. To Rin, he replies, "Oh, I'm not sure that's much of a mystery. When everyone wants a piece of you, you set an example with poor bastards like Gower. It's a deterrent, not a necessity."
Faolan nods in agreement. "It's typical, especially in the larger cities. Up in Lo'ben -" He falters, then decides it isn't worth the energy to correct himself. They know what sort of person he is. "- they drag them out in the street and do it where everyone can see. I'll give them this, though: the nobles do it themselves. Rough bunch."
Pensively, he continues, "I heard in Morovsk and Striker's Bay they still keelhaul would-be-assassins. Never saw it, myself, though. Might just be a rumor. Whatever they do, it's not in the street. People just disappear."
<.>
Dima is keeping his hand very, very still. Not tense at all; no, his hand eased immediately the moment Fae touched (offered touch, and chose to touch) his wrist. (It's remarkable, the extent to which this man's presence impacts him.) (It's not so remarkable at all, when Faolan shines with such brilliance, such warmth.) If he doesn't draw attention to Fae's touch, perhaps it'll stay a little longer. Yes, yes; keep engaging, keep talking, and feel throughout the grace of that touch.
"Keelhauling— Perhaps out at sea. Captains are inclined to mete their own brands of justice; it isn't worth our time or in our interest to interpose." It's a policy that's kept most of those captains agreeable; it's a policy that kept no small share of them from crying against the Voronins when Darzh chose to marry an elf, and leave the family's hold in charge of their kin.
"In Morovsk itself..." He shrugs one shoulder, slightly. "As you suggest, the most severe penalties tend to be the most discrete. Power is implied; power is written in sudden absence, never quite explained.
"Some die; some remain locked away from the world; some are exiled. And some are given leash to hold their freedom, to walk as if there was no offense— Or as if their offense didn't amount to much. As if it isn't worth our time to end them."
He's not quite looking at the party anymore. Clears his throat and shakes his head slightly, reminds himself that it isn't a subject to be taken further, certainly not here and—
He darts a glance at Faolan. Lingers looking at Faolan, conflicted, wondering if he's spoken too far.
After a moment, though: "I doubt Calabra's brand of vanity would rest easy with an offender running free. Nor can I credit him with the cleverness to approach the situation otherwise."
Rin, who has been silent while taking in all of this and sipping on their breakfast drink which is in fact very nice, shakes their head suddenly, hissing through their teeth. "Well that's all pretty fucked."
<.>
If Faolan considers any of this too deeply, he'll slip into another dark mood. Instead, he focuses on Dmitri's voice, on the notes he's growing (too) familiar with. (He focuses on the feeling of the man's wrist under his palm, and thinks of last night, of how their hands twined perfectly, of Dmitri's head on his shoulder and the way their voices turned to whispers.)
Sen is the one to answer Rin's comment with 'Hear, hear' and, as he lights his pipe, to contribute, "Calabra likes to put on a show. His entire staff watching while he ate alone? That, just for supper. If he could have had his man slay Gower on a stage, he would've done."
Faolan pushes his plate a little away, most of the food untouched. "The more we talk about this, the more I'm inclined to get a start finding the girls. They might have more than the people who hired Gower after them; in Mysos, it's not done anymore, but in the last era, the entire family was responsible, so the entire family paid. It's not done, but it's not outlawed, either. If Calabra wants a spectacle, he might have them taken south."
He rises, his hand slipping from Dmitri's, and huffs a little, mirthless laugh. "I never thought I'd say so, but the sooner they're in Morovsk, the sooner they'll be safe."
Faolan pauses a step from the table and considers the room before meeting Dmitri's eyes. "He'll wait outside - if he's willing to go with you."
no subject
Rin huffs, shoots Faolan what's almost a glare (but isn't not a little bit impressed that he caught them), Messages [ Don't you know about honor among thieves?? ], and slips a ball bearing into Dima's pocket.
They might as well do something.
And as they return to their seat, looking suspiciously like they're in a sulk, they Message Sen, [ Maybe next time. >:/ ]
<.>
Faolan gazes back at Rin unperturbed before replying, [ Whores have no honor. Haven't you heard? ]
If Rin says anything further, Faolan's fixation on his food after that comment makes him strangely deaf to Messages.
Sen leans over and kisses Rin's horns before allowing the conversation to turn to the matter of Calabra. "I'm particularly curious about why we were approached, and what caused him to think Gower would be where we found him. That doesn't seem like a guess to me."
Faolan tosses in, "Is it stupidity or arrogance, do you suppose? Assuming he just sent out his servant with the intent of finding Payl Gower's ghost, and wasn't trying to find the Market for some other reason." It's an uncomfortable thought to entertain: what would Calabra want with the dead besides information?
<.>
Rin does in fact reply, looking puzzled all over again, [ Wait, I don't know what YOU'VE heard but that's very RUDE, Faolan. ]
And, when there's no answer: [ No, that's lies, of COURSE they do. ]
And: [ Faolan? FAOLAN. I'm not about to DO anything. ]
They'd be sulking even more obviously, were it not for that kiss from Sen. That turns them around, and Rin decides that there'll be occasion enough to grab the contract another time, and maybe also grab something from Faolan, just for implying whatever he was (??) implying (??).
Rin darts a kiss to Sen's cheek, hands him a grape. "It's all pretty suspicious, just the question's in what way. He said something about asking someone, an oracle or... What was it? Diviner, maybe that. And he seemed honest about everything, but maybe he's just good at lies. A lot of rich fuckers are."
Actually. Speaking of rich fuckers. Rin looks at Dmitri: "Is Calabra a necromancer, or what?"
[INS: nat 1
dm: Hasn't heard a thing.]
In response to Rin's question, Dmitri looks blatantly offended. "I can't imagine he would be in the least. It isn't a particularly profitable preoccupation, nor one liable to gain laudation.
"It doesn't negate to possibility that he does indeed want something from the dead, or from access to the Market. For himself, or for someone he's... Mm. Either eager to impress, or already joined with in accordance.
"The ass may also have been coaxed into meeting with a diviner out of fear for his hide. Whether he's thought much about why Gower of all people should have been sent, I can't say. Calabra has his resourceful moments, as I understand, but is hardly what I'd call circumspect.
"Whatever the case, it'll be worth inquiring among the servants whether Calabra showed signs of interest in the Nightmare Market before the incident with Gower."
Rin, who has been very busy studying their hand against Sen's, chimes in again with, "You know what's weird. Or maybe kind of weird, is why'd the guard even kill Payl at all? Payl's not really an imposing sort of person or he doesn't seem like he was, and that guard was built.”
<.>
Faolan senses Dmitri's piqued ire and without thinking, reaches out and rests a hand on his wrist. He seems unaware of the movement and doesn't withdraw immediately.
Sen, meanwhile, shoves his plate to the side and starts to fuss through his clothes in search of his pipe, leaning back only when the barmaid brings Rin their requested drink. To Rin, he replies, "Oh, I'm not sure that's much of a mystery. When everyone wants a piece of you, you set an example with poor bastards like Gower. It's a deterrent, not a necessity."
Faolan nods in agreement. "It's typical, especially in the larger cities. Up in Lo'ben -" He falters, then decides it isn't worth the energy to correct himself. They know what sort of person he is. "- they drag them out in the street and do it where everyone can see. I'll give them this, though: the nobles do it themselves. Rough bunch."
Pensively, he continues, "I heard in Morovsk and Striker's Bay they still keelhaul would-be-assassins. Never saw it, myself, though. Might just be a rumor. Whatever they do, it's not in the street. People just disappear."
<.>
Dima is keeping his hand very, very still. Not tense at all; no, his hand eased immediately the moment Fae touched (offered touch, and chose to touch) his wrist. (It's remarkable, the extent to which this man's presence impacts him.) (It's not so remarkable at all, when Faolan shines with such brilliance, such warmth.) If he doesn't draw attention to Fae's touch, perhaps it'll stay a little longer. Yes, yes; keep engaging, keep talking, and feel throughout the grace of that touch.
"Keelhauling— Perhaps out at sea. Captains are inclined to mete their own brands of justice; it isn't worth our time or in our interest to interpose." It's a policy that's kept most of those captains agreeable; it's a policy that kept no small share of them from crying against the Voronins when Darzh chose to marry an elf, and leave the family's hold in charge of their kin.
"In Morovsk itself..." He shrugs one shoulder, slightly. "As you suggest, the most severe penalties tend to be the most discrete. Power is implied; power is written in sudden absence, never quite explained.
"Some die; some remain locked away from the world; some are exiled. And some are given leash to hold their freedom, to walk as if there was no offense— Or as if their offense didn't amount to much. As if it isn't worth our time to end them."
He's not quite looking at the party anymore. Clears his throat and shakes his head slightly, reminds himself that it isn't a subject to be taken further, certainly not here and—
He darts a glance at Faolan. Lingers looking at Faolan, conflicted, wondering if he's spoken too far.
After a moment, though: "I doubt Calabra's brand of vanity would rest easy with an offender running free. Nor can I credit him with the cleverness to approach the situation otherwise."
Rin, who has been silent while taking in all of this and sipping on their breakfast drink which is in fact very nice, shakes their head suddenly, hissing through their teeth. "Well that's all pretty fucked."
<.>
If Faolan considers any of this too deeply, he'll slip into another dark mood. Instead, he focuses on Dmitri's voice, on the notes he's growing (too) familiar with. (He focuses on the feeling of the man's wrist under his palm, and thinks of last night, of how their hands twined perfectly, of Dmitri's head on his shoulder and the way their voices turned to whispers.)
Sen is the one to answer Rin's comment with 'Hear, hear' and, as he lights his pipe, to contribute, "Calabra likes to put on a show. His entire staff watching while he ate alone? That, just for supper. If he could have had his man slay Gower on a stage, he would've done."
Faolan pushes his plate a little away, most of the food untouched. "The more we talk about this, the more I'm inclined to get a start finding the girls. They might have more than the people who hired Gower after them; in Mysos, it's not done anymore, but in the last era, the entire family was responsible, so the entire family paid. It's not done, but it's not outlawed, either. If Calabra wants a spectacle, he might have them taken south."
He rises, his hand slipping from Dmitri's, and huffs a little, mirthless laugh. "I never thought I'd say so, but the sooner they're in Morovsk, the sooner they'll be safe."
Faolan pauses a step from the table and considers the room before meeting Dmitri's eyes. "He'll wait outside - if he's willing to go with you."