Conversation Space IV.

[powersthatbe]

The small room is painted a dark beige, with stained wood paneling on the lower half, and lush burgundy carpeting. The ceiling, however, is cracked and bowed, sagging alarmingly, occasionally shedding chips of plaster. Wrought-iron lamp-posts in the corners suspend pale, wan globes of light, and between them along the walls run rows of painted sunflowers, all turned towards the center of the room as if listening attentively. A jutting spire of granite rises from the floor on a diagonal, its flattened top sporting a cracked wineglass from which the wine (a white) slowly spatters teardrops across the plinth. And there is no chair, but a therapist’s couch, blue with gold trim, and ornate scrollwork on the legs, beside which the fluted horn of a phonograph player pipes music into the room, quiet enough to just be background ambience.

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2/2

[iseethe]

--and before him is a silent filmstar, those black shadows having resolved themselves to black curls, the silk of her skin now flesh, though still as grey as ever it was. Her eyes are rimmed with black eye-shadow and her bowed lips just as black.

"Bottoms up," she says, sounding supremely satisfied, and she takes a smug sip of her wine.

[dreamingking]

"I am truly most blessed to behold a visage of night's ruler."

Tybalt may or may not be entirely sincere about that, but if he isn't, he's hiding the sarcasm well this time. For a few moments he's content to enjoy the wine. He's got time, after all, and the pacing and blocking of a scene is as important as the actor's lines.

But it won't last forever, and when his glass is drained, Tybalt turns a gaze on his companion with a look that manages to be both amused and bored.

"I appreciate a good performance more than most, but let's not weigh this act down with small talk, shall we? You believe me to be suited to you, and that I shan't argue--after all, what is Faerie if not illusion and fantasy and a little brilliant madness?--but you also must know that I simply cannot meekly submit to your will. The sovereignty I've worked so hard to maintain would crumble if I did. But there may yet be a compromise. So pray enlighten me as to why, out of all of our gracious hosts--"

That's a bit of scathing sarcasm there, on the 'gracious' but Tybalt smoothly continues without missing a beat. "who I could be speaking with now, you ended up with the honor."

[iseethe]

"You are a king," she says, coolly. "Moreover, you are a cat. To expect you to blindly submit would be foolish indeed and I am not Don Orlea. You are speaking with me because you are one of my creatures nonetheless. And also," she adds, taking another sip of wine, "because by making you the first pick of my two, I forced Hakan to pick someone much less suitable to him than you for his second."

[dreamingking]

From Tybalt's smile, he is entirely flattered, but beneath that, he's taking in every little detail to speak with October about later. Appeasing them so as not to end up worse than dead is one thing. Trusting them and working toward their goals? Something else entirely and Tybalt doubts he'll be doing much of either. Still, he can appreciate a good strategic move when he hears of one.

"How devious of you. As expected, of course. Which of you would be Hakan, by the way? I know the names of the cards you share so much with, and your names are also easy to guess, but that one doesn't ring an immediate bell."

Tybalt isn't very concerned about the possibility of an evaded answer because he's sure he can dig it up on his own. If he feels like it, anyway. He pours himself another glass, and takes a sip that looks bigger than it actually is. Wouldn't do to dull his wits right now.

"As one ruler to another, let's begin with expectations. I won't expect you to be anything but what you are, but I do expect to benefit out of this arrangement. What are yours?"

So easy to slip into the ruthless ruler. He knows that what she offers could easily be lies, and won't trust it, but it will be interesting to see her guess what he wants. A way of finding out more about her than the traits associated with the card.

[iseethe]

"Hakan Caesar is the one you call Emperor Emperor." Her mouth curves into a wicked smile. "I believe it was due to that alias which, knowing him, he thought to be entirely clever. He has very little subtlety--but then, men never do and he is perhaps the most male of all of us. So you see, as a monarch in your own right, he would have some claim on you."

She takes a sip from her wine. "I might offer you powers, O King of Cats, powers that fall under my idiom. The power to hide the answers of secrets, perhaps, or the power to share in the strength of my other Chosen. The power to keep from being caught in a lie. The power to reset others' perceptions of you, to become an entirely different person to them. These, and other gifts, may be marks of my favor to you."

[dreamingking]

"He would, but I admit, I would find the lack of subtlety distressing."

After all, he dislikes Cu Sidhe because they're so simple. Well, that and they're dogs, but beside the point. Tybalt takes a moment to hum contemplatively as he swirls the wine around in his glass, watching the liquid with more intent than is probably due to it.

"Some of those do sound tempting, but most I am capable of on my own. Still, depending on what you expect of me in return, it might be a worthwhile exchange. Additional methods of accomplishing the same ends are not to be dismissed, after all."

[iseethe]

"So I thought," she says. "And thus, it was necessary I take you under my auspices. I only as that you cultivate illusions, sow doubt, deceive and confuse, engage in fancy and fantasy. I think for one such as you, that will not be difficult."

[dreamingking]

"Difficult, no. But I am a cat, and while a perfectly straight answer would be beneath me unless I'm feeling particularly contrary, my whims are as changeable as the weather. Perhaps I will cultivate illusions one day and break them the next, confuse one and enlighten another."

Tybalt pauses with a hum. "I suppose if you count theater as fancy and fantasy, that you would always have from me. I do so love the theater, and I find it sadly lacking in these current travels. Perhaps I shall endeavor to start up a proper troup."

Tybalt is, of course, dissembling a little bit right now. He is a cat after all, and he half wants to do entirely the opposite just to spite her. But he can't deny that concealing his true thoughts and emotions behind varied masks is second nature. He takes a sip of wine.

"Is that acceptable?" As far as Tybalt is concerned, her answer doesn't matter. He'll do what he wants regardless, but the appearance of being agreeable is never a bad one to cultivate with such a powerful being.

[iseethe]

"It is," she assents.