[Would a man who didn't follow take a big sip of wine and stop himself from asking any follow-up questions? No, he would not. In truth, affirmation is nearly automatic. Val de Foncé is not slow on the uptake. If he does not follow at first, he will get there very quickly after, and it is easier to say yes first.
But, wait, though. Val frowns around his mouthful of wine.]
This is a real suspicion under which you labor, mademoiselle? Or a preemptive thought of suspicion only?
It is a reasonable preventative measure. In light of myself and Mister Stark's dreamed occupation, the Ambassador has expressed some concerns regarding the idea that any development work might fall into the hands of the enemy. While his chief concern seems to be that I kill myself should I be captured [again, it should be noted, given a certain predisposition on her part for straying into the clutches of Venatori foot soldiers or their associates], I would like to take steps to safeguard the work so that when we at last present our prototype no one may criticize us for being cavalier on the subject.
Now, [she says, turning open the folio.] As you know already, there are a number of improvements I would like to see done to the Hightown house. Here in this section of the ledger you will see that I've re-allocated a considerable portion of the budget to reassessing the locks, points of entry, and various other precautions which might be prudent. How do you feel about the acquisition of a large dog?
I love large dogs, [as he shifts his chair so he might look at the folio.] Kirkwall houses enough Fereldans that any violation of your security would hopefully safeguard the life of the stalwart creature.
[No, wait. Val sets his wine down upon the papers that she has just revealed by the opening of the folio. This is customary. His own notes are ever ringed with drink prints and smudged with mysterious stains, all earned during the initial stages of his thoughts, which come like lightning storms and must be honored, no matter what else is going on.]
Mademoiselle, I am disinterested in retreading ground that has already been trod, and prefer always to forge the way forward, as this is a much more useful use of one's time. But for my clarification, I must ask: this ambassador has threatened you?
[Without remark, the glass is relocated off the papers and back to the table. The former comes with long term stability concerns whose consequences (namely: the state of this dress, which would show a stain if something were to overturn and slough into her lap) she cannot abide.]
Not in so many words. No, it might more accurately be characterized as encouragement rather than a threat. I assure you he doesn't hold the matter with the seriousness it would require to order the thing done. However, [This page of the ledger unfolds, accordion-like, from the greater booklet. So you see, there were multiple reasons to move the glass.] That may change when the nature of our work becomes clear to the Division Heads. I would like to be able to answer any questions which arise with every appearance of confidence to avoid any reconsideration on the Ambassador's part.
Now, I have done all the cost assessments and even were I to divert the entire sum of the stipend presently allotted by Riftwatch, it would take until Wintersend--of next year, not this year--to see the thing accomplished. I believe we can both agree that timeline is unacceptable. We will be testing the rifle--excuse me, cannon--by Summerday of this year, surely.
[Even encouragement toward death is unacceptable if it impedes one's word, but Val is entirely distracted by the news that she delivers next. He gives an exclamation of disgusted indignation.]
Surely yes! Even Wintersend this year would be entirely unacceptable, to say nothing of next Wintersend. Another Age might well come in that time, and then what? No, we must-- Oh, [a self-interruption, one that comes in an entirely different and far more normal tone of voice,] speaking of sums, I had a letter delivered at some point. I believe it might contain news of some liquidation of assets that I had directed, with the intention to further furnish the work. [Hm. He reaches for his wine glass.] I should open it.
[A drink. He gestures, with the glass. The wine swills at the side but does not spill. Anyways.]
But let this not distract us. We cannot wait so long for the completion of this work. Nor can we allow the work to feel at all threatened, or to have the process surveilled with any suspicion or thought of theoretical wrongdoing. Of course there would be none, and the accomplishment of the work would surely speak for itself--but there are always detractors and naysayers, and the wrong word in the wrong year can spoil if not curdle a project. This cannot happen.
[A distinct light gleams in her eye at the mention of liquidated assets and she opens her mouth with the intention of interrupting only to visibly restrain herself. Instead, Wysteria sets her elbows at the table's edge. She folds her hands beneath her chin as if to physically clamp her mouth shut.
But it can't last. The very instant he pauses again, she exclaims—]
We are entirely in agreement, Monsieur! Which is why this is so important.
[Unraveling her hands, she turns to a page further back in the folio.] Over the course of the the effort to put the house in order, I have taken a full and rigorous survey of all of its assets down to the very last dusty old teaspoon. I believe that the sale of the bulk of the estate would be...well, not more than adequate, but certainly would fund a great deal of the necessary improvements.
There is an estate? I was not aware. I suppose it is very fashionable these days, to buy hideous things and claim them to be lovely. I am thinking of those teacups that you served me from--horrible! The right buyer would be enchanted.
[But not Val. He makes an impolite grimace and picks up his wine again.]
It sounds all very neatly in order. What is this issue? Has a second party revealed themselves with some claim to the house itself? I cannot imagine such a public admittance. Perhaps through a solicitor, anonymously.
No, there is no one else at all who is entitled to the property. [--She is very brisk to say, as if it is something she has been in the position of firmly stating repeatedly in the past and she has now gotten very good at it.]
It is, however, a legal issue. And the alleviating of said legal issue would allow me to at last sell off a number of the property's assets which I have heretofore been contractually unable to part with, and would save a significant portion of the Riftwatch stipend currently tied up by various city offices and by my own representation therein on the subject of my inheritance.
[A pause. She downs a considerable portion of her own wine, and afterwards moves to refill the glass from the bottle at the center of the table.]
Obviously an error was made. That goes without saying. However no one can find the error. For obvious reasons, I would rather they didn't and given that there is no one else entitled to its solution, no one is at all concerned with untangling the mess. There are parties, however, which are very concerned that I pay to circumvent that error for all eternity. They have seen to levying all manner of estate taxes, and to the remanding of various fines, and to the taking of filing charges on all papers, and so on and so forth. To say nothing of certain clauses in the paperwork stipulating the strict handling of various items, including those very ugly teacups. You follow, yes? [She offers with a tip of the bottle to top off his own glass with what remains.] Have I bored you to death yet? For I am getting to the part which I believe will be of benefit to us both.
[He gives a gracious nod at her insistent clarification and then his brain turns off.
A scholar, an academic, once meant to be a man of society, someone who learned proper manners and conversational behavior during long and tedious etiquette lessons: all of these things mean that Val looks like he is paying attention. He puts his chin in his hand. He nods. His eyes do not appear glazed. He fidgets, a few times, looks down at the papers in the folio, the scratched-in numbers done in Wysteria's by-now-fairly-familiar handwriting. He takes a sip of wine, enough that when she offers the refill, he is ready for it, and holds out his glass with a pleased ah.]
I stopped listening at the word 'inheritance', [he confesses, with a charming smile that might well excuse the rudeness of that statement. It is a smile that has gotten him out of a great deal worse. He knows to deploy it now.] You should hire yourself someone to worry about such things for you, mademoiselle. I recommend it as a strategy. Then you are free to pursue your own interests and scholarship and projects and leave the little numbers and filings to someone who is paid to wring their hands on your behalf.
What is the part that is of benefit to us both? I did hear that part. I enjoy things that benefit me.
[Ordinarily, this bull headed inability to listen to even this exceptionally straightforward summation of the facts would serve to irritate her. After all what is so difficult to grasp about a year's history of legal documentation, the inevitable complications inherent in archaic Kirkwellian (Kirkwallian? Kirkwallite?) property laws, and the much convoluted taxation standards of Hightown? It is all there before him. Indeed, a child might see the logic in the problem, if not be trusted to find a solution to it.
But candidly, Wysteria is not unaware of the effect she can sometimes have on people. And there are certain instances like this one where there are reasons to embrace things like 'I stopped listening.']
Nevermind it. The history of the issue will remain largely irrelevant to you. What should be of concern is this: that after a great deal of study, I believe I have found a loophole in the contractual documents. According to Marcher property rights, were we to enter into a formal partnership then the estate and all its holdings would fall naturally to you. With the transfer, I believe a number of the conditional provisions would no longer be applicable and if nothing else, the administrative oversight of the property by the city would be so diminished that I might re-allocate my own funds and the Riftwatch stipend to something other than maintaining the rights.
It would be very temporary, [she hastens to say, carrying along at a breakneck pace.] Only for as long as the transfer of titles. And then we would have it all absolved and you would remand back the rights to me.
Now, I know what you will say, Monsieur—[Thickly nasal, if not thiccly Orlesian:] 'But Mademoiselle Cannon, what would stop me from simply keeping everything?' To which I say only that I trust you will do the right thing. Or perhaps, Mademoiselle, you said this would benefit me and thus far I fail to see how it does!'
And to that, I have drafted an agreement which we will sign upon the dissolution of the partnership which states you will maintain a fifteen percent investment in the property as an acknowledgement of the favor you would be doing me. But more importantly, this will eventually allow me to do what I have been unable to previously. Which is, contribute financially to our work.
[Here, finally, Wysteria falls out of that merciless forward onslaught to offer him this aside:]
I recall your solicitor once expressed concern over that point.
[The only valid concern:] I do not sound like that.
[Please. Val sips from his glass as well before he continues.]
Still. That is one of the numerous concerns of my solicitor. If he were here, he would faint in delight at the mere implication of shared financial responsibility. But he has a very delicate constitution and faints easily. Of course it goes without saying that he would need to look upon this agreement before any signature or agreement was made.
But, mademoiselle, your proposal, in short, requires--perhaps hinges upon the fact--that I become the temporary owner of--and then the fifteen percent owner of--a piece of Kirkwall? I will say that I have never desired to be the owner of anything at all in the Free Marches, being merely a scholar whose presence here is a temporarily one, motivated by my work. I consider myself nearly a tourist to this barbaric land. There is something so very final in ownership of property, is there not?
[She opens her mouth. She pauses, frowns over some facet of his—objection is too harsh a word, but counter argument seems fitting—, and then closes her mouth again to consider it at further length.
She takes another drink before saying,]
I see no reason at all why that should be the case. Property, when one may do with it as they wish, is a very fine investment. And there is nothing about having claim in one place which limits you from doing whatever you like anywhere else. Why—you could sell off your percentage to anyone you wished, even.
Though if you would prefer to retain no stake in the place at all once this hypothetical partnership were dissolved, de Foncé, that would suit me just fine.
I am merely telling you my position on the ownership of property, mademoiselle. Had you bought your home in Val Royeaux, this conversation would be very different. Then again-- [Hmmm, a noise of consideration as Val weighs this, thoughtfully swirling his wine.] --there is something grubbily fashionable of the Free Marches these days. It is a place that many expatrioted Orlesians consider these days, when taking their leave of that country. And it is, at least, located in Hightown.
I suppose then my next question would be-- [He reaches to refill her glass once more. It is not quite empty, but why wait for it to have reached true emptiness?] Why not make this proposal to another of your many friends?
[And so the glass is refilled without incident, just as she leaps upon that question without pause. She has given this thought.]
For all the obvious reasons, of course. They are either women, or other rifters—who would only complicate matters further matters—or their social advantage is such that with the estate I might very well still be considered the controlling party. Take Mister Ellis, for example. My financial portfolio must at this rate far outstrip his. —Or they are mages. Or, worse, they are some combination of the aforementioned.
The goal is for this to be done quickly, quietly, and for it to be believable enough that no one will examine it too closely prior to its dissolution. I regret to say so, Monsieur, for I know you have no fondness for paperwork and would prefer not to be troubled but such petty things. But given all of this, you are the only practical candidate.
[There's a little glimmer of self-satisfaction in the way that Val settles back in his chair--very little, glimpsed only if one is paying very close attention to his body language. Or so he would like to think, unconscious to his own innate theatricality.]
It is all rather obvious when you say it. Poor souls, all, some-- [m i s t e r e l l i s] --more than others.
[Practical is not the most glowing of words. Yet even so: how would one ever grow tired of being the preferred choice? All the better when one does not have to seek out the designation at all. Val sips at his wine, then leans very abruptly forward, closing the conversation in more intimately to confide:]
I will require my solicitor to be given the chance to review the contract that you have written up, but on its face--aside from my aversion to the commitment implied in the ownership of property--I can think of little else at this moment to take issue with. You have put forth quite a pretty screen of words and it has served you well, mademoiselle. I think that you could argue yourself out of most situations. Or at the very least, talk. This is a compliment.
[He leans back and she is already feeling rather pleased with herself. It is beginning to creep into her face, into the corner of her mouth and the faint upward tip of her chin and even into the play of her spare hand across the papers between them. And rather than evaporate as he leans back in, it blossoms.
There, late into the evening, at that table crammed into a corner of the Tamed Lion, Wysteria brightens to a degree which threatens to outstrip the candlelight and hanging lanterns.]
I accept your compliment. —And have prepared a copy of the proposal for your solicitor already which you may take with you tonight.
Very good. I shall take it and send it off to his offices straightaway for review, with a stress on the expedient nature of its review. There can be no interruptions to the work. Which, incidentally--the liquidation of certain assets that I mentioned? I had written and ordered the sale of a few negligible items that are gathering dust in my Val Royeaux apartments--some decorative objects, a very stupid egg made of glass, a sapphire necklace, a marble horse, this sort of thing--nothing at all interesting or important, but enough to fetch a fair enough price. I believe the letter that I received will be telling me of the sale and when the money might be expected, and of course the customary warning--nearly heartwarming, at this point!--and then we can proceed with whatever comes next, which we should review now that things have returned somewhat to normal. Mademoiselle, how is this arrangement sealed?
[Up until now, the tone has been conversational, casual just bordering on a lecture. This is the first question that has been asked, a genuine inquiry for an opinion, delivered in very nearly the same tone. Val looks at Wysteria, waiting for her answer.]
In Val Royeaux, a kiss upon each cheek is the exchange. What of Kalevad?
Which portion of the arrangement, specifically? The paperwork, or the partnership, or the—agreement to agree.
[No, that is a stupid question; Wysteria waves it away with a flick of her fingers.]
Most matters of business in Kalvad are secured with a handshake. Or a toast, in which we say something pleasant about one another or about the venture and then praise the the Princes. Gods bless and keep the Empire and all of us in, and so on. [She clinks her glass against his, but doesn't pause for the gesture or the sound.] But given the exact nature of this particular agreement—which is to say, that is will require a certain...temporary illusion of sentiment—, then I suppose the royan way of doing things might be acceptable even in Kalvad.
Kalvad, [he repeats, perfectly, just to show that he can.]
I am not opposed to toasts or to handshakes at all. But they are commonplace. I have arranged for the shoveling of manure out of a campsite with a handshake. And as you say, given the exact nature--a sealing more demonstrable would be appropriate, one that gives that certain temporary illusion to which you have alluded.
[Well. Perhaps if they were among company other than their own then, yes, there would be some motivation to play at such performative little gestures. What compelling reason is there here, though? In this exact instance?
They are fine questions, but ones very likely to send them down a tangent which she doesn't truly care to discuss. There is no reason to focus overmuch on the pretending of the thing or even the details of the arrangement when it is all meant to be so very temporary.]
[And now that the sentiment has been confirmed, and repeated as confirmed, there can be no going back on it. Val sets down his wine glass and moves his chair so that he is now turned toward Wysteria. The darkness of evening has given way to the dark of night, and the Tamed Lion's dim lighting seems, perhaps, more intimate than vaguely dank now.
Val holds out a hand to Wysteria, bridging the small gap between them. What she is meant to do with this hand remains to be seen, or decided by her.]
You do intend to come by a large dog still, I hope?
I believe I've made it clear that I'm willing to consider any measure with which to secure our work, [she says, setting the glass aside.
The angle of her chair also is adjusted by a slight degree and at last she sets her hand gamely in his. It is rather like being asked to dance at a formal party and then being swept out to the dance floor, and under those circumstances she has placed her hand in such a position dozens of times.]
And a large dog does seem like a reasonably effective and simple means with which to bolster security.
[Wysteria turns her face. She taps her cheek expectantly with a finger.]
[But: ah. Thusly prompted, Val makes a quiet sound of polite acknowledgement. He squares his shoulders, straightens his spine, takes her hand in a grasp both firm and gentle, then leans in and kisses one cheek--and then, briskly, the other, before a third kiss upon the first once again, and then he kisses her on the mouth.
Which is to say he kisses her on the mouth, again. But this one is not a dream, and thus, different than the other two.]
[This is not a dream. And so the slap certainly stings more. Val laughs as he sits back and presses his hand to his cheek.]
Very cruel.
[He turns back to the table without further comment, and takes up his wine glass. Already there is a faint red mark where her slap had landed, but he pays it no mind.]
I recommend that we avoid the mabari. I have nothing against them, and they are effective in the role of guard-dog which is so often and so fittingly assigned to them. And yet I find them to be rather overrated. There are so many other worthy breeds to choose from, with features that recommend them to the position. The cavalier assumption of ownership notwithstanding, I have great respect for dogs assigned work.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2021-02-17 09:26 pm (UTC)[Would a man who didn't follow take a big sip of wine and stop himself from asking any follow-up questions? No, he would not. In truth, affirmation is nearly automatic. Val de Foncé is not slow on the uptake. If he does not follow at first, he will get there very quickly after, and it is easier to say yes first.
But, wait, though. Val frowns around his mouthful of wine.]
This is a real suspicion under which you labor, mademoiselle? Or a preemptive thought of suspicion only?
cw: suicide
Date: 2021-02-17 11:30 pm (UTC)Now, [she says, turning open the folio.] As you know already, there are a number of improvements I would like to see done to the Hightown house. Here in this section of the ledger you will see that I've re-allocated a considerable portion of the budget to reassessing the locks, points of entry, and various other precautions which might be prudent. How do you feel about the acquisition of a large dog?
no subject
Date: 2021-02-18 01:58 am (UTC)[No, wait. Val sets his wine down upon the papers that she has just revealed by the opening of the folio. This is customary. His own notes are ever ringed with drink prints and smudged with mysterious stains, all earned during the initial stages of his thoughts, which come like lightning storms and must be honored, no matter what else is going on.]
Mademoiselle, I am disinterested in retreading ground that has already been trod, and prefer always to forge the way forward, as this is a much more useful use of one's time. But for my clarification, I must ask: this ambassador has threatened you?
no subject
Date: 2021-02-18 02:36 am (UTC)Not in so many words. No, it might more accurately be characterized as encouragement rather than a threat. I assure you he doesn't hold the matter with the seriousness it would require to order the thing done. However, [This page of the ledger unfolds, accordion-like, from the greater booklet. So you see, there were multiple reasons to move the glass.] That may change when the nature of our work becomes clear to the Division Heads. I would like to be able to answer any questions which arise with every appearance of confidence to avoid any reconsideration on the Ambassador's part.
Now, I have done all the cost assessments and even were I to divert the entire sum of the stipend presently allotted by Riftwatch, it would take until Wintersend--of next year, not this year--to see the thing accomplished. I believe we can both agree that timeline is unacceptable. We will be testing the rifle--excuse me, cannon--by Summerday of this year, surely.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-18 04:08 am (UTC)Surely yes! Even Wintersend this year would be entirely unacceptable, to say nothing of next Wintersend. Another Age might well come in that time, and then what? No, we must-- Oh, [a self-interruption, one that comes in an entirely different and far more normal tone of voice,] speaking of sums, I had a letter delivered at some point. I believe it might contain news of some liquidation of assets that I had directed, with the intention to further furnish the work. [Hm. He reaches for his wine glass.] I should open it.
[A drink. He gestures, with the glass. The wine swills at the side but does not spill. Anyways.]
But let this not distract us. We cannot wait so long for the completion of this work. Nor can we allow the work to feel at all threatened, or to have the process surveilled with any suspicion or thought of theoretical wrongdoing. Of course there would be none, and the accomplishment of the work would surely speak for itself--but there are always detractors and naysayers, and the wrong word in the wrong year can spoil if not curdle a project. This cannot happen.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-18 04:51 am (UTC)But it can't last. The very instant he pauses again, she exclaims—]
We are entirely in agreement, Monsieur! Which is why this is so important.
[Unraveling her hands, she turns to a page further back in the folio.] Over the course of the the effort to put the house in order, I have taken a full and rigorous survey of all of its assets down to the very last dusty old teaspoon. I believe that the sale of the bulk of the estate would be...well, not more than adequate, but certainly would fund a great deal of the necessary improvements.
But there is an issue.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-18 06:07 am (UTC)[But not Val. He makes an impolite grimace and picks up his wine again.]
It sounds all very neatly in order. What is this issue? Has a second party revealed themselves with some claim to the house itself? I cannot imagine such a public admittance. Perhaps through a solicitor, anonymously.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-18 06:52 am (UTC)It is, however, a legal issue. And the alleviating of said legal issue would allow me to at last sell off a number of the property's assets which I have heretofore been contractually unable to part with, and would save a significant portion of the Riftwatch stipend currently tied up by various city offices and by my own representation therein on the subject of my inheritance.
[A pause. She downs a considerable portion of her own wine, and afterwards moves to refill the glass from the bottle at the center of the table.]
Obviously an error was made. That goes without saying. However no one can find the error. For obvious reasons, I would rather they didn't and given that there is no one else entitled to its solution, no one is at all concerned with untangling the mess. There are parties, however, which are very concerned that I pay to circumvent that error for all eternity. They have seen to levying all manner of estate taxes, and to the remanding of various fines, and to the taking of filing charges on all papers, and so on and so forth. To say nothing of certain clauses in the paperwork stipulating the strict handling of various items, including those very ugly teacups. You follow, yes? [She offers with a tip of the bottle to top off his own glass with what remains.] Have I bored you to death yet? For I am getting to the part which I believe will be of benefit to us both.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-18 10:33 pm (UTC)A scholar, an academic, once meant to be a man of society, someone who learned proper manners and conversational behavior during long and tedious etiquette lessons: all of these things mean that Val looks like he is paying attention. He puts his chin in his hand. He nods. His eyes do not appear glazed. He fidgets, a few times, looks down at the papers in the folio, the scratched-in numbers done in Wysteria's by-now-fairly-familiar handwriting. He takes a sip of wine, enough that when she offers the refill, he is ready for it, and holds out his glass with a pleased ah.]
I stopped listening at the word 'inheritance', [he confesses, with a charming smile that might well excuse the rudeness of that statement. It is a smile that has gotten him out of a great deal worse. He knows to deploy it now.] You should hire yourself someone to worry about such things for you, mademoiselle. I recommend it as a strategy. Then you are free to pursue your own interests and scholarship and projects and leave the little numbers and filings to someone who is paid to wring their hands on your behalf.
What is the part that is of benefit to us both? I did hear that part. I enjoy things that benefit me.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-18 11:06 pm (UTC)But candidly, Wysteria is not unaware of the effect she can sometimes have on people. And there are certain instances like this one where there are reasons to embrace things like 'I stopped listening.']
Nevermind it. The history of the issue will remain largely irrelevant to you. What should be of concern is this: that after a great deal of study, I believe I have found a loophole in the contractual documents. According to Marcher property rights, were we to enter into a formal partnership then the estate and all its holdings would fall naturally to you. With the transfer, I believe a number of the conditional provisions would no longer be applicable and if nothing else, the administrative oversight of the property by the city would be so diminished that I might re-allocate my own funds and the Riftwatch stipend to something other than maintaining the rights.
It would be very temporary, [she hastens to say, carrying along at a breakneck pace.] Only for as long as the transfer of titles. And then we would have it all absolved and you would remand back the rights to me.
Now, I know what you will say, Monsieur—[Thickly nasal, if not thiccly Orlesian:] 'But Mademoiselle Cannon, what would stop me from simply keeping everything?' To which I say only that I trust you will do the right thing. Or perhaps, Mademoiselle, you said this would benefit me and thus far I fail to see how it does!'
And to that, I have drafted an agreement which we will sign upon the dissolution of the partnership which states you will maintain a fifteen percent investment in the property as an acknowledgement of the favor you would be doing me. But more importantly, this will eventually allow me to do what I have been unable to previously. Which is, contribute financially to our work.
[Here, finally, Wysteria falls out of that merciless forward onslaught to offer him this aside:]
I recall your solicitor once expressed concern over that point.
[She sips from her glass.]
no subject
Date: 2021-02-20 11:02 pm (UTC)[Please. Val sips from his glass as well before he continues.]
Still. That is one of the numerous concerns of my solicitor. If he were here, he would faint in delight at the mere implication of shared financial responsibility. But he has a very delicate constitution and faints easily. Of course it goes without saying that he would need to look upon this agreement before any signature or agreement was made.
But, mademoiselle, your proposal, in short, requires--perhaps hinges upon the fact--that I become the temporary owner of--and then the fifteen percent owner of--a piece of Kirkwall? I will say that I have never desired to be the owner of anything at all in the Free Marches, being merely a scholar whose presence here is a temporarily one, motivated by my work. I consider myself nearly a tourist to this barbaric land. There is something so very final in ownership of property, is there not?
no subject
Date: 2021-02-20 11:41 pm (UTC)She takes another drink before saying,]
I see no reason at all why that should be the case. Property, when one may do with it as they wish, is a very fine investment. And there is nothing about having claim in one place which limits you from doing whatever you like anywhere else. Why—you could sell off your percentage to anyone you wished, even.
Though if you would prefer to retain no stake in the place at all once this hypothetical partnership were dissolved, de Foncé, that would suit me just fine.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 12:05 am (UTC)I suppose then my next question would be-- [He reaches to refill her glass once more. It is not quite empty, but why wait for it to have reached true emptiness?] Why not make this proposal to another of your many friends?
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 12:31 am (UTC)For all the obvious reasons, of course. They are either women, or other rifters—who would only complicate matters further matters—or their social advantage is such that with the estate I might very well still be considered the controlling party. Take Mister Ellis, for example. My financial portfolio must at this rate far outstrip his. —Or they are mages. Or, worse, they are some combination of the aforementioned.
The goal is for this to be done quickly, quietly, and for it to be believable enough that no one will examine it too closely prior to its dissolution. I regret to say so, Monsieur, for I know you have no fondness for paperwork and would prefer not to be troubled but such petty things. But given all of this, you are the only practical candidate.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 03:18 am (UTC)It is all rather obvious when you say it. Poor souls, all, some-- [m i s t e r e l l i s] --more than others.
[Practical is not the most glowing of words. Yet even so: how would one ever grow tired of being the preferred choice? All the better when one does not have to seek out the designation at all. Val sips at his wine, then leans very abruptly forward, closing the conversation in more intimately to confide:]
I will require my solicitor to be given the chance to review the contract that you have written up, but on its face--aside from my aversion to the commitment implied in the ownership of property--I can think of little else at this moment to take issue with. You have put forth quite a pretty screen of words and it has served you well, mademoiselle. I think that you could argue yourself out of most situations. Or at the very least, talk. This is a compliment.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 04:35 am (UTC)There, late into the evening, at that table crammed into a corner of the Tamed Lion, Wysteria brightens to a degree which threatens to outstrip the candlelight and hanging lanterns.]
I accept your compliment. —And have prepared a copy of the proposal for your solicitor already which you may take with you tonight.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 06:44 am (UTC)[Up until now, the tone has been conversational, casual just bordering on a lecture. This is the first question that has been asked, a genuine inquiry for an opinion, delivered in very nearly the same tone. Val looks at Wysteria, waiting for her answer.]
In Val Royeaux, a kiss upon each cheek is the exchange. What of Kalevad?
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Date: 2021-02-21 08:23 am (UTC)Kalvad.
[And then, considerably less readily—]
Which portion of the arrangement, specifically? The paperwork, or the partnership, or the—agreement to agree.
[No, that is a stupid question; Wysteria waves it away with a flick of her fingers.]
Most matters of business in Kalvad are secured with a handshake. Or a toast, in which we say something pleasant about one another or about the venture and then praise the the Princes. Gods bless and keep the Empire and all of us in, and so on. [She clinks her glass against his, but doesn't pause for the gesture or the sound.] But given the exact nature of this particular agreement—which is to say, that is will require a certain...temporary illusion of sentiment—, then I suppose the royan way of doing things might be acceptable even in Kalvad.
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Date: 2021-02-21 08:57 pm (UTC)I am not opposed to toasts or to handshakes at all. But they are commonplace. I have arranged for the shoveling of manure out of a campsite with a handshake. And as you say, given the exact nature--a sealing more demonstrable would be appropriate, one that gives that certain temporary illusion to which you have alluded.
And you agree, clearly. Yes?
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Date: 2021-02-21 09:18 pm (UTC)[Well. Perhaps if they were among company other than their own then, yes, there would be some motivation to play at such performative little gestures. What compelling reason is there here, though? In this exact instance?
They are fine questions, but ones very likely to send them down a tangent which she doesn't truly care to discuss. There is no reason to focus overmuch on the pretending of the thing or even the details of the arrangement when it is all meant to be so very temporary.]
I suppose so, yes. We are in agreement.
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Date: 2021-02-21 11:05 pm (UTC)[And now that the sentiment has been confirmed, and repeated as confirmed, there can be no going back on it. Val sets down his wine glass and moves his chair so that he is now turned toward Wysteria. The darkness of evening has given way to the dark of night, and the Tamed Lion's dim lighting seems, perhaps, more intimate than vaguely dank now.
Val holds out a hand to Wysteria, bridging the small gap between them. What she is meant to do with this hand remains to be seen, or decided by her.]
You do intend to come by a large dog still, I hope?
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Date: 2021-02-22 12:57 am (UTC)The angle of her chair also is adjusted by a slight degree and at last she sets her hand gamely in his. It is rather like being asked to dance at a formal party and then being swept out to the dance floor, and under those circumstances she has placed her hand in such a position dozens of times.]
And a large dog does seem like a reasonably effective and simple means with which to bolster security.
[Wysteria turns her face. She taps her cheek expectantly with a finger.]
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Date: 2021-02-22 06:19 am (UTC)[But: ah. Thusly prompted, Val makes a quiet sound of polite acknowledgement. He squares his shoulders, straightens his spine, takes her hand in a grasp both firm and gentle, then leans in and kisses one cheek--and then, briskly, the other, before a third kiss upon the first once again, and then he kisses her on the mouth.
Which is to say he kisses her on the mouth, again. But this one is not a dream, and thus, different than the other two.]
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Date: 2021-02-22 07:10 am (UTC)It is different from the other two.
Presumably, the slap she gives his face is different too.]
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Date: 2021-02-23 03:55 am (UTC)Very cruel.
[He turns back to the table without further comment, and takes up his wine glass. Already there is a faint red mark where her slap had landed, but he pays it no mind.]
I recommend that we avoid the mabari. I have nothing against them, and they are effective in the role of guard-dog which is so often and so fittingly assigned to them. And yet I find them to be rather overrated. There are so many other worthy breeds to choose from, with features that recommend them to the position. The cavalier assumption of ownership notwithstanding, I have great respect for dogs assigned work.
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