Troubled Waters

19th of Resolve, in the 5th year of the Reign of Yale Redwater, Alshain Magna

Jamilla Laurent looked at her husband, settling into her grav-chair as he ate his eggs in silence, a slight smile tugging against his lips.  Jamilla had fallen in love with Salamah a dozen times, and she figured that smile had been a part of every single one of them.  She loved her husband, wildly, madly, and that smile, a bit smug, but also confident, and (mostly) unplanned, it was one of the things she loved about him.

Of course, to love was not to claim perfection, and on her worst days she began to see how, when faced with the world, Marcus had crawled into a bottle.  On her worst days she loved him the way he loved most of his family: out of a sort of resigned acceptance that this was the way things were, and that no matter how he feels about them he also loves them.  On other days, of course, loving him was far easier, far less painful.

What she didn't understand is why he didn't love her back--or, why, when she sat down and allowed herself the rare opportunity of telling herself the truth, that was the conclusion she came to.  Many days, of course, she could delude herself long enough to love him as a being with few faults, if any.

But he was so closed off, beneath his charm.  His childhood, his family, his sister, his home-planet, she had learned to negotiate a mine-field of topics that would cause him to close up, to retreat behind formalities.

And she knew he had cheated not all that long ago.  What else could explain the surprise visit to Circe, could explain the messages her spies had carefully reconstructed about a meeting with "Charlie."  She wondered what such a woman had that she didn't--because, not to be too vain, she was intelligent, well-bred, had a first-class education and, by the standardized definitions, she was beautiful.  Was it her pale skin, was there some feature he didn't like, or some part of her personality that repelled him?

Jamilla understood that love was a complex thing, that often one had no choice in that matter, and she could even accept with a tearing heart that he didn't love her.  What baffled her was that he wasn't even attracted to her, at least, he didn't seem to be all that often.  In the heat of the moment, perhaps she told herself that the sex meant lust, or pretended to believe the lust might be a symptom of love, but as often enough she allowed herself to be distracted and played with by her desire for Salamah's body not because she was a fool, but because she was desperate and lonely and loved him and wanted him even if it wasn't the way she wanted to want him.

All of this was the context by which she decided, that blustery and cold--did Alshain Magna not have a blustery, cold day, not that it mattered, enmeshed as they were in their womb of a home--morning, to ask him, "Honey, what are you doing?"

He looked up and said, "Attempting to check all the available men of the right bloodline.  I have had enough of Audrey, and at this point I'd marry her to a homeless bum...if he'd treat her right," he amended, since he didn't want to wish misery on any of his family.  "Perhaps one of my courtier friends..."

"No!  She is to marry into Nobility, or not at all," Jamilla insisted, "Trust me, I know them, those so called former friends of yours, and they are like sharks,  they'll latch onto her, destroy you, and benefit nobody."

"They'd just marry her and discard her for her name, her position..." she trailed off, Salamah looking at her bizarrely, as if he was confused.  He touched her shoulder, and she found she was nearly crying. Crying because was he really all that different from them, then, was he?

After a moment, he stood, and, after leaning in to speak some words to her ears only, left, unable to bear it.  She stared at the data-sheet.

He had whispered, ever so quietly, "I don't want to despise you, I didn't mean..."

Sometimes the right words just wouldn't come.

Visualize Your Future Wealth Potential

25th of Faith, in the 5th Year of the Reign of Yale Redwater, back on Alshain Magna

It was a remarkable human capacity, the ability for individual happiness to pop like soap bubbles.  Just a few weeks before he had been among the Houses of the Galaxy, eyes aimed at the next election, at power, and despite some problems it had gone more well than ill, and he now had two new allies, though these were bonds that could be strengthened.

He had a niece, perhaps he could find a marriage for her...and he was making more money.  There were a million paths open to her now, if only she could use them.  If only he didn't have to deal with bullshit.  He looked up, his smile pleasant at Vincent, as unkempt as ever, and asking HIM for money.  He had a thousand things he could spend the 25,000 Solars on, let alone the profits the mines were starting to bring in.  Even if it didn't take money to make more money, he could donate it to a thousand causes he would view more worthy than the religion of 'Sathraism.'

"So, uh, Your Grace, what do you say?"

"Why," Salamah said in his even voice, "Do you not spend your own money?"

"What do you mean."

Salamah smiled and said, "If you can think of a profitable business-plan in whatever field you wish, I will give you the money, incorporate you under me, and allow you to put a certain portion towards your religious...goals."

It was that simple.  Either Vincent backed down, and at least that was done with, or he made Salamah a lot of money and was actually useful, after all.

Vincent seemed sobered but said, "I think there are some bulk-trades that might make some profits...not a massive amount, the southern area, it's..." he shook his head, "I-I'll do it," he coughed on the table and said, "Ugh...sorry, been feeling off, think I caught a bug.  But..." his eyes alit and for a moment he was almost compelling, "A chance to see the stars, the galaxy, and make money to help Sathraism.  I might even start some Missions."

"Missions?"

"To spread the word, but only if this only works out!" 

Salamah stared at him.  He smelled like he had forgotten to bathe.  Vincent did that sometimes.  Well, what could he say, "If you get me the proposal, I'll look through it, and sign it."

He was as good as his word, and so was Vincent.  Like his cousin or not, they were family, and Vincent was a smart man--when he wasn't pissing everyone off.

Cast:

Duke Salamah Laurent, age 49:  The exasperated if polite head of the Laurent family, his ethos of "family first" is often frustrated by his dislike of so many members of his family, though he'd never show it, he's too socially cued-in.

Vincent Laurent, age 37:  The enthusiastic, often unwashed, somewhat unattractive Cousin of Salamah, he found the Faith of Sathraism and has tried to convert everyone he's met to it--and failed.  He is now the head of Mercantile.

Frustration

With the events of the last while, the Forum RP has been pushed to the back of everyone's minds, meaning it won't advance.  In the spirit of desperately wanting to move on, I might soon start posting the stuff I have afterwards on an every-two-day schedule.

RP Logs, Paying Respects, Part X

Laurent

Jamilla looked pleasently surprised. "Perhaps you would like to talk to al-Saffah, to confirm we are all on the same page. And I can tell my husband of our plans." Salamah was in charge, but at the moment she was calling the shots by default. "If you would follow me?" she asked, hoping Selina would agree. 

ser Noche

Nora stood by the tables of food, occasionally picking up small snacks as she watched the young nobles mingle with each other. It was livelier than most of the recent announced parties and festivities, and she was glad for it. She smiled, and let the proceedings unfold.

However, after a little time, a servant quietly slipped in through the door from the hallway, and walked up to her with some urgency in his stride. He whispered something in her ear, and for a moment a paleness came over her face. She nodded, and whispered something back. The man walked out of the room again, off to Gods knew where, and Nora resumed her friendly smile. She calmly walked over to one of the lush seats and sat down, arranging her skirts slightly to fall neatly alongside her legs.

Sternseher

Selina would only nod and follow along, pursing her lips as she considered the third party in their group. She'd not had much of a chance to interact with al-Saffah, but hopefully she could get a good impression of him shortly.

As she made her way by, she smiled politely over to Nora, nodding to her once more. It was a lovely function after all, even if it wasn't the sort of thing she typically indulged in.

Laurent

alamah was about to reply to Bundar when he saw his wife approach, followed by the Sternsehers. Confused, he pulled his wife aside and they talked. At first, for all that they were far enough from the others that words couldn't make out, he seemed angry and incredulous that she had usurped his authority. Slowly, though, this transformed into curiosity, and then interest and finally he nodded and said, "Your Highness, may I introduce you to her Grace, Selina Sternseher? Perhaps you two might get acquainted, and talk over an idea that they have hatched. 

Introductions done, he left--not even realizing the absence of Marcus--and went over to the food table. There were several reasons for this. First, that he was hungry and the food looked good. Second, that he was polite, and just as importantly, really, it would give him cause to compliment Lady ser Noche. He ate in a well-mannered way, savoring the food and then, when done, he made his way to Nora ser Noche. 

He gave another one of his flawless bows and said, "I thank you for your hospitality and food. It was simply exquisite. I myself wish to give you a gift myself, one less solid than that from Sternseher, but quite important, I would think. It is something of a delicate gift, and it might be preferrable for me to confer it in private." 

"Although," he added, "I can present it here should you wish so."

ser Noche

"Thank you, I do hope everybody is enjoying themselves. We don't get a lot of visitors here," she said with a small curtsy in return. As he spoke about a gift, Nora nodded. "If you would prefer a private conversation, might I suggest we retreat to the annex room? We can talk privately there, the walls are sound-proofed." She gestured to the far wall, where a door stood slightly open towards another room in similar decoration, with a slightly thicker carpet in dark red plush.

Laurent

"That sounds like an excellent idea," he said, and with a bow he led the way. Now, he would have been more careful around a rival, would have at least had said rival lead the way in first, but, really, if ser Noche wanted him dead, it didn't have to lure him into a backroom. It could, just as easily, infuse the air with neurotoxins whose cures everyone who Nora ser Noche desired to live could be discreetly slipped, and then it would be a simple and tragic illness. 

In other words, the ser Noches were rich and powerful enough that worrying about stepping into a room first was the least of his worries. 

And, of course, a distant second in his reasoning was the fact that he thought he had reason to trust Lady Nora ser Noche. 

A very distant third as he walked--he glanced back to see that she was following--was that he trusted her. 

Once they were in the room, he turned, closed the door, and waited for Lady Nora to get settled.

RP Logs, Paying Respects, Part IX: Salamah and Bundar

((Now, those who have access to the RP Forum will note these next two Parts don't happen as they did in the forum.  There were two different conversations going on, alternating against each other, and so I basically pulled them apart, and edited them (mostly to take out the 'Meanwhiles' I used to give it some order) for consumption here.))

Laurent

Salamah saw that Jamilla was going off, and wished her the best of luck with Marcus, and whatever she wanted to do. He had matters of importance to see to. He moved over to Bundar and Qaribah and said, "Pardon me, would you like to go to the gardens, I have a few things which it might be helpful to speak of." He smiled and said, "You may bring your daughter, of course." He smiled and said, "I believe there are things that may be done to mutual advantage, especially since we are alreaday here, Your Highness," which was the proper phrasing for an Emir.

al Saffah

"Of couse, Your Grace." Bundar returns the courtesy with an easy smile. He doesn't even have to ask for this not to be strictly a conversation between the pair of them... though Qaribah is more concerned, even if it doesn't show on her face. The possibility that Salamah may have figured out that her father will need her to hand for a discussion like this, and why, is a worrying one- a known weakness is a very bad thing. "I'm listening." Salamah had his undivided interest at right about the moment he said 'mutual advantage.'

Laurent

Salamah began to walk towards the small gardens, pretty sure Bundar was following. And Qaribah. He had seen how she watched everything and said nothing. It was not a style Salamah employed--he often preferred to jump into the action--but it was not the way of someone who was just there as an accessory. "We are all here for our own reasons. Did you ever wonder why I, the farthest one from this planet, came here?" He would sit gracefully on a rock, "House ser Noche gave me a subsidy of a certain amount of money, such that I had to thank them. Can you gues
s how many Solars I was guarenteed every month, by account-transfer?" He smiled politely, waiting for Bundar to guess.
al Saffah

"Hmm... for such a journey, it would have to be a gift of some considerable weight," Bundar muses. Such a subsidy is a priceless boon for any young, up and coming noble house. They will eventually reach the same destination without the subsidy, of course, but the extra funds will ensure that it all happens that much faster. "Some... fifteen, twenty thousand Solars, perhaps? Twenty-five, possibly, at a stretch." One thing he does have an understanding of is money and finance- his education ensured that much, at least.

Laurent

"Twenty-five thousand Solars a month, for a year." Salamah smiled, knowing what Bundar's reaction could be, "Some of that could be transferred to you, and I could speak to Lady Nora ser Noche about obtaining your own Subsidy. But this wouldn't be a gift. Instead...it would be a mark of a mutual agreement. The elections are not all that long from now, over a year, sure, but time can pass quite quickly. When the time comes, perhaps we could act together, and vote together...it'd give our decision more weight if it was done together. Two votes instead of one..."
al Saffah

"No wonder you came to thank them in person," Bundar says, almost wonderingly. With that amount of money in play, the expense of the journey is almost trivial by comparison. "Hmm, yes... and every house, of course, has an equal vote..." And the winner will be most grateful to the houses that supported them in their victory- all that remains is to hope that the house they support does, in fact, end up being the house that wins. "That would... be a most agreeable arrangement, Your Grace." Well, of course it would. It involves al Saffah reaping a share of the benefits Laurent is already enjoying.

Laurent

"My Subsidy for your Highness might be, perhaps, 5000 Solars a month, until such time as ser Noche grants you the Subsidy, and as a sign that I am working on obtaining it?" he suggested with a smile. "So, if ser Noche was willing to eventually follow through on the Subisdy, would that be enough for you to agree to now vote with me--or rather, vote in temporary concord with me, if my vote changes we would have to talk on that..." he realized he was talking too fast, and slowed down. "Vote with me for ser Noche? That I might take this deal to her as an offer..."
al Saffah

Even 5,000 Solars a month is a welcome boon for a house that's still in it's early days. "I would be most grateful," Bundar says with a smile, and means it too. "The matter of the election had been on my mind when I first planned this visit. For these terms? Certainly- when the time comes, I will vote alongside you, for ser Noche to take the Imperial throne." And if ser Noche does indeed hold such Imperial ambitions for the next election, how could they possibly refuse? Every vote counts, after all.

RP Logs, Paying Respects, Part VIII: Gifts

((Continued Directly from part VII.  The formatting is a bit better, but still wonky.))

Laurent 

There were ages for strength, and there were ages for wisdom. A leader could be doomed merely by rising in the wrong time, and not being able to make the time their own. So Salamah wasn't too bothered, and was reassured by the wisdom. Waiting long enough to be appropriate he nodded as well, "Oh, of course. Your planet is quite beautiful, Lady ser Noche," he complimented, earnestly, though even had it been a dung-heap he might have said the same words. Besides that, he was cheered by her words. They made it sound as if she might be quite open to House Laurent expanding its--at this point miniscule--power and influence upon the galaxy. He stepped forward, still somewhat facing her, as Marcus smiled politely at her and slipped on ahead--rather against Salamah's plans--in the hopes of snagging some alcohol before Salamah could figure out a way to stop him. Which left the Patriarch torn. If he asked Lady ser Noche for help in this matter, keeping Marcus sober, he'd be admitting a weakness that could be exploited. But if he left Marcus be...Marcus was an angry, violent, abusive, cruel drunk, and it'd get out anyways, but much worse... Jamilla cut the knot, curtesying to Lady ser Noche and moving on ahead, in the hopes of intercepting Marcus herself, while Salamah interacted with the Head of House ser Noche.

Sternseher

"Your welcome is accepted most graciously, My Lady." Offering an additional slight nod, she watched as two of Salamah's group split off, and she much expected others to do the same. Now, however, was an ideal time to put forth another sign of respect. She could have allowed the third minor house gathered the chance to move in first, or even opened to Salamah for further hobnobbing as seemed more appropriate to his sort of noble, but she preferred to get this sort of thing out of the way. Not because she dreaded it, but because punctuality was often looked upon well in a setting where things could go unsaid for years before coming out or being brought up. "It's a lovely planet... certainly more attractive than Diphda." She smiled a little bit as she said this, amusement in her voice and humor shining in her eyes. That only lasted a short moment though before she held her arms out to her side, her brother-in-law stepping forward. "Nagi and I would like to present you with a gift. I'm sure your security staff will want to scan it before you open it, but rest assured that it's nothing more than a book. A collection of Myrillian Mythology..." The ancient homeworld of ser Noche wasn't exactly a secret, yet such books were somewhat hard to come by. "My husband used some of his connections with other bookstores, book suppliers, and libraries around the sector to find it. I hope your family can find some enjoyment and reflection from it."

al Saffah

"Thank you, Lady ser Noche," Bundar says with a bow of his head. "It was rather welcome- much has been said of the splendor of Taishijan, and I have greatly anticipated seeing it in person." The Emir's eyes follow Duke Laurent's brother curiously, and then the Duke's wife as she follows after him. What's going on there, hmm? Later, in private, Qaribah will mention that she suspects the Duke's brother may be an alcoholic, probably embarrassingly so- her role here is, after all, to pick up on what her less sharp-minded father might miss.

ser Noche

"I am sure that it is merely a book, and it is a wonderful gift, Duchess Sternseher. Thank you very much." Nora smiled warmly, despite knowing that her own house published such books and distributed them. If it was such a rarity, then the intention was a much greater gift than the object itself. And who knew, maybe it would be an actual original. "Shall we go inside? I've had some food and drink prepared for us, and a comfortable room to have conversation." She nodded back to the greetings, and entered the hall, indicating the seven to follow her. They passed through several hallways, then through a high hall, tiled in slabs of black marble, with ser Noche banners hanging between the columned sides. A large stone throne sat in the cneter, but it was unoccupied. People occasionally walked along the sides of the room from one door to another. The group crossed the hall and entered yet another hallway by a door in a wall behind the throne, and suddenly the air of the building changed. There was plush red carpeting everywhere, a deep burgundy hue, and wood paneling along the walls. warm lights lit everything from above, and occasionally a window peeked into a shadowed inner courtyard.

They arrived at an open door, double-winged and made out of a dark mahogany wood, that entered into a sizable room. It too, was carpeted, but it was set with plush furniture in dark, warm colours with gold embroidery, a hearth in a wall crackling merrily with a fire, and on the opposite wall a glass screen looked out over a garden flanked by grey stone walls of the building. A small pond with shrubs and a tree or two around it graced the garden. In front of the glass screen were several tables laden with food, some exotic, some simple, but of great diversity and colours. An fourth table was against the far wall, set with several glasses and a deftly arranged set of drinks in hand-crafted stained glass bottles. A few servants stood by, ready to wait on the guests.

"Please, have a seat. You are welcome to help yourself to some food, or ask the servants to do so. If you'd like anything specific, just ask. If it's not here we can have it made for you immediately." 

RP Logs, Paying Respects, Part 7: Dis-Embarkment

((Continued from Part VI.  And sorry for the formatting, and the lateness.  I genuinely could not get this thing to work in any reasonable manner.))

ser Noche

As Salamah made his last comment, the hovershuttle made the last descent towards a dark-grey stone surface, the courtyard of a rock-carved fortress with occasional purplish-hued bands tracing through it in steep diagonal layers. The courtyard was surrounded by a traditional crenellated wall, now topped not by guards but by the occasional sensor array for security. Banners draped over the wall both inside and out, long black strips with the silver crescent over a purpur and ebony diagonal band. The craft descended between the walls, reducing the view of the sky a little. On the other side of the courtyard was the first tier of the fortress, rising steeply along with the original rock surface it was carved from, with tall forbidding walls with slitted windows on the first tier, and ever loftier structures going up. At some point in the distance it shifted to new construction with tiled roofs and plastered walls. The entire thing breathed an air of old knighthood - though it got contrasted a bit with several more modern installations sticking out of the tiers every now and then: occasional antennae, a large greenhouse a few tiers above, and even a large steel and glass skyscraper peeking out above a ridge in the rock.

The craft set down in the courtyard, which was paved with irregular slabs of white marble, without a sound except a light puff of displaced air. The guide stepped out of the vehicle, and bowed to the guests.

"Please, we have arrived. If you would disembark?" Behind her the main gates opened, large filigreed steel doors darkened with (recreated) age, and a small retinue of the Shadowknight guard stepped out, long lances held at their sides. Their black cloaks billowed around them, but instead of combat armour underneath they wore loose clothes in purple with a sparkling silver sash that negated all of their advantage in dark environments. 

The guard stepped to the sides of the entrance, and center stage stood Nora ser Noche, Lady of the House, dressed in a simple grey dress with a deep purple overcoat falling loosely around her. She greeted the guests with a smile.


Laurent

This was the excellence of power, Salamah thought, his mind harkening back to essays he had once read in dusty rooms. That someone could make something like this and, when war and fire destroyed it, simply remake it, that a family could survive so much…that was what it was to be a House. Power, power that Salamah had only begun to taste. Though he had spent his youth doing far more worrying than eating, if this was what power could bring…he allowed none of these thoughts, which slid in and out of each other. The marbling, Salamah observed with the eye of someone who had once studied the topic, was lovely. His eyes lingered over the Shadowknights. Deadly, no doubt, but he had no need for violence, not now. In the past he had been driven to violence, or even chosen it as a first reaction, but he was a different man now. His smile widened a bit. Even their knights were as much a display of power and beauty as anything. Salamah Laurent stepped out of the craft and looked upon Lady Nora ser Noche. Old, yes, but long ago the Patriarch had learned that ambition had no expiration date. It was quite a tasteful attire, but there was grace in her every movement, grace to match, and maybe even surpass, him. He returned her smile and bowed. Not so low as to be subservient, nor so shallow as to be disrespectful. A perfect bow that smoothly flowed into standing. He wished to address her, but he wanted to wait to see what the protocol was in that respect. Sternseher Selina took Salamah's lead somewhat graciously, for while she was no slouch when it came to the mental department, nor was she lacking in ambition. It was obvious to her at least that Salamah was the sort who relished his power and position, and being seen as a leader among his peers filled him with pride. The Duchess of House Sternseher was in no position to change that viewpoint. Nodding one last time to the wife of the little group's charismatic 'leader', she stood and exited the wagon. Chikanaga was quick to follow her lead, flashing one last dazzling smile to their tour guide before tugging his jacket once and slipping up along behind his sister-in-law, holding back roughly half a pace. She came to a halt beside Salamah, giving some distance for his family to join him, and dropped into a well-practiced curtsey. She had no such confusion about what came next, because someone was bound to introduce them. They were Nobles, after all. al Saffah Bundar steps out behind Salamah and Selina, moving up to stand level with the Duke, but off to the side, to make room for those members of his family that the man has brought. Qaribah follows quietly in his wake- saying nothing, watching and listening for now. The Emir bows to Lady Nora, somewhat less gracefully than Salamah- not low enough so as to be abasing himself, but certainly enough to be respectful. This is, after all, one of the most powerful individuals in the galaxy- head of house that has weathered a terrible storm in the past, and not only survived, but thrived. He smiles, but says nothing, waiting either for the Lady to speak, or for the three of them to be announced- whichever happens first. The formalities must be attended to, after all. Laurent One of the most successful--if overlooked--part of social genius, part of understanding how to interact well in social situations, is modeling. If everyone is wearing white all of a sudden, and crying, and you don't know why, you don't loudly ask why everyone is dressing like ghosts. In other words, Salamah spared a glance out of the corner of his eye to the woman whose family had been minor nobility, and noted her silence, thus judging it appropiate and allowing herself to relax as Jamilla inserted herself next to, but a bit behind him--not actually a statement of sexism, for in most courtier cultures, that was the rule, spouses next to but ever-so-slightly behind, by at least 1/10th of a centimeter. There were courtiers who could judge that distance exactly by length, and mark a person as a boor or not based on that. somewhat behind her was Marcus who was looking around in search of one thing. That thing being bottles which might hold booze. He was a recovering alcoholic in the same sense that a fire-starter locked against his will in a house without matches or anything to cause fire was a "Recovering Pyromaniac." ser Noche As the last of her guests disembarked from the shuttle, Lady Nora stepped forward towards the group. "Welcome, Emir as-Saffah and miss as-Saffah, good Duke and duchess Laurent, and ser Laurent, Duchess Sternseher and ser Sternseher, to Taishijan. I am truly overjoyed to see such young clans setting foot on the stage of Capricornian politics. I'm afraid it's a rather dusty lot, but maybe we'll see some change. Be welcome in our home. Please, come inside. I've had a reception prepared." With a soft smile she gestured behind her, turning slightly aside, and nodded in a friendly manner to the group. "I do hope you've enjoyed the flight around Taishijan and Saberai? I pray it wasn't too long." The invitation to come in was fairly simple, no musical accords, no further military parading. Whoever looked well at her would see her greying hair, the lines in her face, and a tired look in her eyes. She didn't look that much of a strong leader, but certainly a wise one.