The Cost of Favors
| The Cost of Favors | |
|---|---|
| Players | Small Park ...is cinnamon sugar donuts. |
It's a hot, clear summer morning in Chicago. The air is filled with the dulcet tones of car horns and sirens, and the breeze carries the scent of Lake Michigan and gasoline as it brushes over the tiny bit of green space not far from Omega where Razi and Sol have agreed to meet. Sol is here early, and has staked out a small bench near a fountain. As he waits, he's reading a newspaper and keeping an eye on passersby. It is HOT. The sort of heat that doesn't play well with suits. So when Razi arrives in the park, he's left his jacket behind and loosened his tie a bit, leaving behind just vest and shirt. And even that shirt has had the sleeves folded up a time or two. (Hot!!) He finds Solomon readily enough in their prearranged spot and meanders on over. "Afternoon, Solomon." They're suit buddies! Sol must be teaching today, because he's also in one - although it's a shabby, off-the-rack sort of thing, and his jacket is off, but draped over the back of the bench rather carelessly, and his sleeves remain all the way down. He glances up as Razi approaches, and grins. From beside him, under a shield of newspaper, he lifts up a box of fresh, hot cinnamon and sugar donuts. "Best donuts in town, for my money," he says, and offers first pick to the lawyer. He _definitely_ wants something. "And quite a few, at that," Razi says in the mild tone of someone who who immediately recognizes he's being bribed, but is letting matters play out for the time being. He settles on the bench next to Solomon, at any rate, and maybe there's a hint of curiosity beyond the more primal lure of donuts. "So am I being paid ahead of time for this favor, then?" To be fair, if there's anyone who can generally be trusted to follow through after receiving payment in advance, it's likely Razi. "We all need a little sugar to get through the day," Solomon says. He shifts so he can sit comfortably and watch Razi at the same time. "Mm. Something like that. You're mostly being paid because I'd like you to give me your word you'll keep it confidential. Including from the Queen and her advisors. For now, at least. I think, once I explain, you won't consider the actual favor so much a favor as a necessity." Razi's brows twitch subtly, the suggestion of an upward lift. The amount of time it takes him to reply, the thoughtful, studious cast to his gaze, suggests he is giving the request the weight it deserves; he doesn't give his word lightly, ever. Finally, though, he tips his chin in acknowledgment. "All right." (And then he reaches slowly for a donut.) Solomon waits without visible impatience for Razi to think it over; he knows what he's asking. Still, there's a hint of relief when Razi agrees. The donut box is held for him to take his pick (and they are VERY good), before Solomon also takes one. He takes a first bite, chews it, before saying, "I'm sure you remember Barnabas. I and a couple others wanted to look into his accusations, and the obvious place to start was at the scene of the crime. So to speak. So we visited the Zoo...and the old Freehold on the other side." While Solomon chews and then speaks, it gives Razi time to take a bite or two of his own donut. He does not become /visibly/ overwhelmed with the deliciousness, but that's only because he's Razi; even his chewing is careful and methodical. But he definitely keeps eating. His gaze, though, is close and attentive on Solomon's face as he begins to explain. He doesn't interrupt as of yet, but simply gives him room and leave to continue. He knows there's more. Solomon takes a few moments to enjoy the donut, then brushes off the clinging sugar crystals from his fingertips. Only once they're clean does he go on, "We found a few things. Nothing explosive, but...curiosities. A broken spear that seems to point to a specific group of Huntsmen; likely our direct attackers. They're called the Verdant. A Token that seems not entirely fully formed, but may have been used to pass messages to somewhere else. And," he reaches for his jacket, rifling through it until he can bring out sheets of paper - slightly scorched, "these. An agenda for that gathering, meant to end on a 'Special Announcement'. I don't know if they got there, or what the announcement was, but it might be worth pursuing. Since you've served as notary, I thought you might recognize the origin or be able to remember anything around that time that could point at what that announcement was." Razi has also finished off his (first) donut, and carefully brushes his fingertips off as well, to make sure they're clean before any /evidence transfer/ occurs. Only then does he take the papers, looking over them slowly. "Thomas would have undoubtedly been the master of the agenda that evening," he murmurs as he reads through. But there's a grim set to the line of his mouth that makes it clear he understands why Solomon can't ask /him/. "I will have to think. See if I made any notes of anything that might indicate what it was meant to be." There's a quiet moment, a beat. And then he says, "A Token capable of passing messages could have called for an attack." "It could have," Solomon says, equally quiet. "It could also be a trifle someone picked up to communicate with their Motley that was dropped in the attack. I don't mind a little healthy fear, but we don't need a witch hunt. That, more than anything, is why I want to keep this on the down low until we have something that speaks to actual malicious action. Fear is a good advisor but a poor master." "As we well know," Razi says quietly as his eyes continue to absorb every detail of the singed agenda. He inhales slowly, carefully, through his nose. "The question that has been on my mind since Barnabas's arrival is...why? Or rather, what would the Court have to gain? That is generally a reliable route to answers. Marybelle was already in power, and she has seemed to fare rather worse since the attack. If they are lying about something, perhaps they know more detail than they have shared with the rest of the Freehold?" They are all thoughtful, stream-of-consciousness thoughts, a ready and active brain beginning to gnaw on a problem. MAIL: You have a new message from Job Tracker. Subject: Job 35: Changeling: Zoo Trip Solomon nods. "I've wondered the same. But I only came to town towards the beginning of the year, and I don't know how the old group worked. What hatreds or fears might have lurked under the surface. Barnabas is mad by his own admission, and I do suspect the advisors are keeping something from us. They may have good reason for that. But," his grin flashes out, "I just can't resist a mystery. Can you?" "Keeping secrets is a necessity of leadership," Razi says simply; the general idea of it does not bother him, only the specific possibilities. "Queen Marybelle can also be...sentimental. Mercurial. As we have seen. Another possibility is that someone was involved, with or without malice and intention, that she wishes to protect. Good intentions have little particular correlation with good results, however." He does not have the sort of flashes of smiles and humor Solomon does, but perhaps his expression...lightens. The smallest amount. "It's not in my nature to try. There is clearly something dark lingering from that attack, and the safety of the Freehold will remain at risk until it's rooted out." A beat. "For however safe we ever are." "She needs something that I'm not sure any of us are qualified to provide," Solomon responds, with a sigh. "I don't know how much she understands of anything that's going on. Mind you - I don't care if the Freehold is run by the advisors in the day to day. As long as one of them doesn't want to run us into the jaws of the hunt." He grimaces. "I wish we could just get everyone to vow their loyalty. But even raising the question could fracture things further." Razi does smile then, but it's something sharp. Humorless. "We could hold a meeting where I invoke a contract that allows me to sense when someone is lying, and then have each and every person just /casually/ indicate they've done nothing to harm the Freehold." That will go over JUST as great. "Truthfully, I'm surprised that a change of Court hasn't occurred in response to everything that's happened, but maybe there's simply too few of us left." Solomon chuckles. "Who wants to take that on, Razi? You wanna go for Autumn King? With the way the Freehold is right now?" He shakes his head. "I think most people...the ones who stuck with this group, not the south side folk, they just want things to feel like whatever they felt like before. Marybelle and the rest at least provide a sense of stability. Anyone we replaced them with would have to earn trust on top of trying to put things back together." "Do you /truly/ think that the Queen inspires a sense of stability from anyone right now?" Razi asks, voice uncharacteristically frank as he levels a look upon Solomon. "I do not know that an /Autumn/ monarch is what's needed. But right now, the Queen is failing to recognize her own limitations. Maybe she's not capable of doing so anymore. A monarch in sounder mind would have recognized the need for another Court to rise for healing and rebuilding." Solomon spreads his hands and shrugs. "Honestly, as long as we aren't getting snatched by Gentry and nobody's trying to leash us, I'm happy." He reaches for another donut and nibbles delicately on it. "I don't have any suggestions for regime change. But if we find out what happened that night, and if any of them had a part in it...well." Another shrug. "Then we'll fucking see." "There are always people content enough to stay uninvolved until they forced to do otherwise." Is that a hint of...disapproval? MAYBE? There's a certain set to Razi's mouth, even if he is hardly lobbing judgments around. A moment later his breath seems to escape him, and he reaches for another donut, seeming to find his point unproductive after all. "There is only forward," he says in milder agreement. "But we can only move forward with the truth. Without it, we're simply...dancing in Pompeii moments waiting for Vesuvius to erupt." Does Solomon notice that subtle hint of disapproval? From the way his eyes narrow, just a little, he might. But he says, with another shrug, "We all have our priorities." But the next assertion is something he can clearly sign onto with more heart. "Yes. If the questions are allowed to fester, they're likely to cause problems in the future. Plus...the trod." Now his expression goes grim. "No one deserved what happened there. We can't punish those ultimately responsible, but their agents should answer." Razi chews slowly on another bite of donut, because sometimes you just need cinnamon and sugar to /survive/, okay. He doesn't speak until that mouthful is safely swallowed. "Barnabas's interruption is unlikely to be the last," he says. "I'll look back through my notes and see if I can determine anything about what was planned for that evening, in any case." Solomon nods. "I'd agree there. And something has to be done about the south side folk. Rachel has suggested we present a fait accompli of a diplomatic measure to the court at the next meeting." An arched eyebrow towards Razi seems to be waiting for some sort of response. Razi's gaze has slipped away from Solomon, and he's not /actually/ studying the passers-by, it's just that's where his eyes have settled as he considers. "Perhaps they know something we don't," he says of the south side group. "There's surely some sort of reason for their attempts." As for the next Court meeting, he looks back to Solomon. "Fait accompli seems the only way to effectively handle it. Assuming we have enough answers by then, if there's anything implicating the leadership, it would need to be presented openly." "And someone should probably talk to them, see what they know. And what sort of things might induce them to return - or if we all need to abandon ship." Solomon continues to stare at Razi. It's not hard who he thinks 'someone' should be. "Ahhh." The sound comes with a new level of comprehension, and Razi's gaze dips briefly to the box of donuts before lifting once more. "Is that the reason for the size of the box, then?" he says, not without humor. "/Two/ favors." Solomon chuckles. "No. It's a favor and a delicate suggestion that if such overtures were made, you would be an appropriate person to make them. You're not gonna lose your temper, you know how to question people, you've history with the freehold, and you don't seem to be about to lose your goddamn mind and start thinking you're the reincarnation of Robespierre or something. Any one of those things puts you ahead of most of the survivors. All of them together?" He shrugs. "It just a thought." "No, you're right," Razi says, his soft exhale near to a sigh. "And it's not even a favor, really. It's questions that need to be answered, and beyond thinking I might be able to help answer them, you knew I'd recognize the necessity of doing so." He /tries/ to slant a somewhat beleaguered look at Solomon, but he doesn't quite manage. There's a weight of responsibility around him, and he just plucked this new one up and settled it comfortably with the rest. "I'll have to consider how best to approach matters with the south side. It's a delicate affair." Solomon snorts. "I usually am." Then he winks - although it doesn't sound like he ENTIRELY thinks it's a joke. He adds, thoughtfully, "It's possible we'd be able to bargain with releasing Barnabas. If he's not dead, then he's clearly fine with being where he is, or Rook has him in iron." And this, this clearly doesn't sit well with Sol as a possibility; his little feelers at the sides of his mouth droop and sag. From the sudden flattening of Razi's mouth, it's possible he finds the idea distasteful as well. For now, though, he rises from his seat. "I'm afraid I have to get back to work," he says. "But I'll let you know as soon as I have more." There's another moment, a little pause, and then he adds, "Thank you for trusting me with this." Solomon looks flatly at Razi, the other man reflected in his compound eyes. He lifts the box. "Take the rest. I did promise them to you. And Razi...don't make me regret it, hmm? I'll be pissed if you end up being the traitor." It's another of those jokes-that-isn't, and his smile is narrow and flat. Razi's brows shift subtly upwards, and he considers Solomon a moment. "I imagine you would," he finally says, before reaching for the box of donuts. "Have a good afternoon, Solomon." And then he turns to head back the way he came. | |