Social Expectations
| Social Expectations | |
|---|---|
"Did you take Javier Reyes into the Hedge?" | |
| Players | Adler Planetarium Razi and Solomon run into each other at a charity fundraiser. |
Most of the time, the Adler Planetarium is open to the public for all of its varied educational purposes. But sometimes, its purpose becomes Hosting the Rich and Raising Money. That's when various organizations tend to start getting sent invitations. That's how Razi ended up here, at any rate, glad-handing in his polite and efficient way. He's a reserved soul, but he's not without his charm when he's in need of it. But he's managed to slip away for a few of the speeches, glass of champagne all but forgotten in hand, to find himself in one of the sections of antique scientific instruments. He's grown quite engrossed in some of the displays, leaning in to inspect an ancient astrolabe through its glass case. There are three lobes to the tenure track process, for those who wish to pursue it: research, teaching, and...service. That last one is how they get you. Solomon has had the good (mis)fortune to be on the advisory board for a local science non-profit, and guess who are one of the beneficiaries of the Rich Who Raise Money? Thus, here he is, dressed in a nice suit but still managing to look like Professor Snape with better hygiene. He's made as nice as it's possible for him to make for the last hour, and now has fled to the quieter areas of the Planetarium to catch his breath. As soon as he hits the display area, two fingers snag in the knot of his tie and he tugs on it to loosen it. He doesn't have a drink, but he does have eyes. Seeing Razi, he drifts in that direction. "I thought I saw you somewhere amidst the crowds," is his greeting from behind, and nevermind that Razi is studying something and might not even realize he's not alone anymore. Solomon will have the great satisfaction of seeing Razi /startle/, at least the tiniest bit. His spine stiffens, and he straightens rather swiftly to turn about before his memory catches up with the rest of him. Of course, it means there's a /hint/ of annoyance in his eyes when his gaze finally settles on Solomon. "You can't harvest off of /me/, you know." Solomon's grin flashes out, and his feelers twitch at the corners of his mouth. Razi's annoyance only makes him that much more cheerful. "Not everything is done out of a desire for profit, Razi. Some things are just entertaining." He steps to one side to peer at the antique instrument. "Fascinating, aren't they? So many ways we've tried to answer the questions of the universe...and so much that's still hidden from us." Razi smoothes down the front of his very nice suit, much as he smoothes down those figuratively ruffled feathers caused by Solomon's startle. "Well. I hope you've enjoyed yourself." His next exhale comes a bit more evenly, and soon enough he's himself again, taking another sip of champagne before he looks back at the display. "I'm not any sort of expert or even an actual hobbyist, but it seems impossible for the stars to not be fascinating. I suppose no one's ever been satisfied with just the one world." Solomon doesn't respond to that first remark with more than a chuckle, allowing Razi to draw his own conclusions on that front. "Did you ever read any sci-fi as a kid? I was crazy for it. The classics - Asimov, Heinlein, all of that. It's hard not to look up at the sky and dream there might be a better place, if only you had the will and ability to reach it." His smile slants sideways, before he adds, "Sometimes we end up with _too many_ worlds." "A bit," Razi replies, a faint tug to his smile. "Do you prefer the era of optimism in science fiction, then? There was something of a shift, wasn't there? From space becoming wondrous to it becoming terrifying?" The memory, dim as it is, leaves him thoughtful. "I always liked -- the order of it. The cleanness. White halls, sliding doors opening on a whisper. Although I can't really imagine that's how it would all end up, now that I'm grown." "When I was young, I did," Solomon says, with a shrug. "It seemed plausible, then. That somehow, with time, we would learn how to be better than the people I saw around me. I figured, if there were infinite worlds to travel to, then everyone could find one that would make them happy. We'd all have Star Trek replicators, and there wouldn't be any reason to fight over anything." He snickers. "I could be a dumb kid, sometimes." He gives Razi an up and down look, and nods. "I could see that. I'm sort of surprised you didn't go into chemistry or something. You seem like you'd enjoy making order out of molecule chaos." Razi's laugh comes quite low indeed, dark and wry. "Everyone's a dumb kid," he says. There's something rueful, there. Thinking back. Considering Solomon's estimation of him. "I used to be more ambitious," he finally says. "Top of my class. Big Law in New York City. Partner track. I liked...the fight of it. The back and forth. The competition. It's not that I hate that all now, but -- a lot of it became less important. After." Solomon's eyes widen a little, an involuntary expression of surprise. "That's a hard path to walk. Even harder after," a gesture of his fingers in the air. "Although you'd probably be a beast in trial. Cool, calm, quietly eviscerating your opponent's logic." Another flash of teeth, and his faceted eyes gleam. "Glad we've got you here, honestly. But a lot of things warrant a rethink after." "I was just starting to be, yes." There's something sharp in that muted humor. Like it's not really funny at all. "As I understand it, the fetch was absolutely vicious. A star of the firm. They couldn't understand at all why I suddenly wanted to leave." His gaze shifts away with a brief shake of his head. "Were bugs another childhood fascination?" Solomon grimaces something like an apology, and runs one hand through his hair, an instinctive, nervous gesture. There's a quick shake of his head. "Not at all. I always liked science. All sorts of science. But I mostly chose a Biology major out of spite." He admits this without notable shame, and even with a certain amount of pleasure. "By the time I escaped, the fetch had done most of undergrad, and done pretty well. Well enough to get me into a doctoral program and--insects seemed a natural choice, at that point." His voice is very dry. "Seems a curious selection for a spite major," Razi says, humor dry enough to almost be imperceptible. One hand slips into the pocket of his trousers, while the other is still occupied with his drink. The cut of his smile is sharp. "It's maddening, isn't it? The ways we've been shaped. We have power, and ability, but only from what they gave us. And so often, the way we were shaped was born from what we already loved. What we were already good at. So all of it is poisoned." He finishes off the champagne in one sudden toss. And then, his gaze settling fixed and steady on Solomon, he asks, "Did you take Javier Reyes into the Hedge?" "Doesn't it just?" Solomon grins. "Catch me sometime when I've had something a bit stronger than the champagne around here, and I'll tell you the whole story. You might find it mildly amusing." His grin fades as Razi continues. There's a thoughtful pause. "Is that truly any different than the rest of our lives, though? We're born with certain traits. Our environment shapes how - or if - those traits express. We have power and choice within that, but there's always someone more powerful exerting pressure - whether that's a person, an institution, or society as a whole. It's all poisoned, in a way. It's just a matter of understanding the system, then turning it back in their faces." He watches Razi down the rest of the glass. His eyebrows - what little there are of them - rise as that question is thrown out. "Yes," he says, simply. "Still seems a bit different," Razi murmurs. But his attention is fixed on Solomon now, and the answer to his question. His expression doesn't /visibly/ twitch, but there is a sense of it, maybe, in that tension. His voice, however, seems to go even more mild. "You don't think that was, perhaps, a touch irresponsible?" Solomon keeps his eyes on Razi's face, his own expression going carefully blank. Aside from the feelers, which withdraw into tiny nubs at the corners of his mouth and twitch just a little. His voice is - perhaps deliberately - mild to match Razi's. "It was risky. I disagree with irresponsible. He had skills I thought would be useful, and is one of the few people who is absolutely guaranteed not to be the traitor. Our enemies are well aware of fae abilities; sometimes other sources of power and information can be exploited to gain the advantage. And he was useful, well-protected, and came to no harm." "Exploited." Razi echoes the word with notable precision. It's abundantly clear, despite the mildness of his voice, just how displeased he is with the whole thing. Just as clear as the boundaries of his own perceived right to complain about it. He's quiet a moment, careful with plotting -- restraining -- his words, before he says, "I don't know that he appreciates the full risk of it." "Yes." There's no apology in Solomon's voice, or the reflective facets of his eyes. "And no, he doesn't. Not in the manner of having our knowledge of the dangers, at least. But he is aware that it is a dangerous place. And _Javier Reyes_," and here there's a dryly humorous emphasis on the full name, "has quite a bit of understanding of dangerous things. Even those in pretty packages." He continues to stare at Razi. "...why do you care? I didn't even know you two were acquainted." "As he emphasized to me," Razi says, tone drying. He looks, for a moment, like he very much wishes there were more champagne in his glass. Or, in all honesty, something more potent. "We're acquainted enough that I can recognize his instinct to help others is strong enough to put his own safety at a very distinct number in his priorities." He falls silent for a beat. "And enough to have recognized that he's an actual decent person, which is rare enough." He's on the edge or something else, finishing the thought, but he leaves it at that. Solomon is watching Razi with a keen interest, now. "He does have a way of making friends, doesn't he?" It's dry, but genuinely fond. Then his voice turns brisker. "But ignorance is no protection. Is that not the very foundation of our Court? His own exploits regularly put him danger. As you note. He's an adult. He made a choice. It was a choice that was useful to me, and I freely admit that. But I didn't deceive him about the danger, and I made it as safe as I could, under the circumstances. I think - if you asked him - he'd want his friends to treat him as an equal, not a child. Or a virgin teenager on their first date, getting the shovel talk from a stern and terrifying adult." "The /shovel talk/." Razi sticks on that for a moment, peering at Solomon. "Is this -- the traditional 'father threatens to murder a child who happens to be the teenage boy taking out his teenage daughter' thing?" He gestures, vaguely, with his empty champagne glass. "I was not treating him like a child. Just because he is equal in personhood doesn't mean he'll be equal in his ability to protect himself in there." It itches. Something about all of it itches. Leaves him discontent. "But I suppose there's nothing further for me to say. You'll both of you make your choices." Solomon fingerguns. "Got it in one," he says, at least outwardly cheerful. "Although the fact that you had to clarify does make me wonder if we need a pop culture crash course at some point. Rachel would be good for that. She does cosplay." Despite the light-hearted tone, he's continuing to study Razi. "He might not. Half the Lost who go in there can't truly protect themselves from all the dangers of the Hedge. It's why we don't go alone." He sighs. "But yes. We will. Perhaps you should come with us, next time. If you're worried." "I'd just never heard the phrase /shovel talk/ to describe it," Razi says, and now there's a /hint/ of exasperation in his tone. "I don't need /crash courses/." And there's a deep-set annoyance in the set of his mouth when Solomon points out the many /Lost/ who can't protect themselves, either. Most clearly because he can't dispute it. "All right," he says. "Fine." It's not quite mollification, but it's...whatever. It's in the realm of 'something.'  Solomon snickers openly, although it's hard to tell whether it's the exasperation about the slang, or the annoyance. Both are clearly pleasing to the bug man. "Excellent." There's a spark of that hard amusement, but it dies off and he adds, more quietly and seriously, "I consider Javi a friend. I won't endanger him frivolously." Then, less seriously, "Although I might endanger him for science. But. It's science." Razi's features flatten in the wake of Solomon's /open amusement/ with his reaction, and there's a moment -- when Solomon says he won't danger Javi's life frivolously -- that he reaches out. Not quite literally, not actually there, but the deeper sense of him, to seal the words with a subtle shift of the Wyrd. There's an upward tick of his brows, and he lets the silence lie for a moment before he says, "Try to restrain the worst of your experimental impulses." At the movement of the Wyrd, Solomon's eyes widen slightly. Not offended, clearly, but surprised. In the next moment, he slips the bonds of the Seal with a subtle flash of his own Glamour, but the way his expression changes says that he's recognized Razi's intent. And if he's perhaps surprised, he stops mocking it. "I have no desire to see Javi come to harm." Then, his head tilted to one side, he asks, "You seem surprisingly...attached. How long have you known him?" "I didn't think you did," Razi replies, quietly even. In lieu of immediately answering that question, he studies Solomon for a long moment, now that he's bullied him into sobriety. And then he exhales a slow, thin breath through his nose. "Not long enough to warrant getting my hackles up," he says, dryness lacing the words. "But he has a way of /making friends/, as you said. He's rather persistent." A beat. "He's the one that had me playing arbitrator between ghost and human." "Hmm." Solomon doesn't say anything more than that about that, although the corners of his mouth turn up. Then there's a full grin when Razi goes on. "Was he. I should have guessed that. I suppose I didn't account for the way the city tends to throw those of power at one another. And he didn't even know you were--" He makes a gesture towards Razi's everything, but from the other room, there's the sounds of applause. He grimaces as if in physical pain. "Damn. I think they're going to be expecting me to be social again." "Not at that point, no. I can't really imagine why he thought I wouldn't send him packing at the request." Razi's gaze shifts briefly towards the other room, and the sound of applause. And then he looks back to Solomon, and he actually -- smiles. He reaches over, to give his shoulder a warm, reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry," he says. "I'll introduce you to some /fine people/." Is it possible he's going to lead him back into the main hall and introduce him to the most interminable people he can find? Very possible. Solomon knows what it means when an Autumn smiles. He gives Razi a LOOK, and deadpans, "You know I can ensure that roaches fall out of your office vents for a week." But, that said, he seems to think that the lawyer has earned a little revenge, because he doesn't pull away, and even bares his teeth at the people he's introduced to. It is surely a mystery why those conversations end up shorter than one might expect. | |