Contact (Clement & Aru)

[Ifran]

64th Spring, 510 A.V. Aru wore simple clothes, layers of linen that breathed in the heat, and a dark brown, hooded cloak over everything, cowl pulled up to make a positive identification more difficult. He had taken a roundabout path from the House of the North Winds, through town, by various unrelated locales, and finally into the Pillars of Dust. He spoke to a person he knew who was always in the know, and followed that lead to a certain place, a certain man. *** "Aru," Ifran said, "I need a favor." Noting the basic mode and all his friend's hands held in plain view, Aru allowed himself a small smile. The pon merely nodded. "An assassin nearly killed me in my bedroom. I negotiated for my safety. She requires more money than I have available to me just now to divulge the identity of my rival. Go down to the Pillars of Dust and speak to Anubis. I need the information now." *** When he found him, he said just one word: 'jackal' rendered with an undermode of finality and ferocity. "Anubis."

[Clement Reijnder]

The problem with Eypharians, as far as Clem was concerned, started with Arumenic. The language was built, at its fullest, to showcase the superiority of their race. For what he could figure, after being in Ahnatep for so long, was that the only things Eypharians really excelled at beyond humans were possibly in the realms of pleasuring oneself and coming off like pompous cows. And while being a far cry from fluent in High Arumenic, he had this strange feeling that the majority of their undermodes were in fact those belonging to said cows. He had a theory that walking into Talboa and proclaiming oneself to be a vegetarian would garner a more desirable response than being a human and trying to get away with speaking High Arumenic. So really in the end the problem with Eypharians was that they were a dirty necessity for his line of work he’d found himself in. Only because they were the ones with the mizas. Otherwise he would have been more than happy to just work with slaves and occasionally get pleasure out of arranging for some six-armed shyke to get eaten. Of course, he didn’t say any of that out loud. Those were the sorts of opinions you kept to yourself in Ahnatep. Instead he stood up, hard blue eyes watching those around the Pillars go about their business. “Yes,” he said coolly as he pushed up from his crouch in one graceful motion, tearing himself from his philosophic moment that he wasn’t getting paid to have. His arms crossed over his chest. He waited. No one ever came to see him about needing a hug.

[Ifran]

"I do not know the identity of her agent or agents, but he or she will be a key to keeping her on my side." Years ago, Aru would have corrected with: "Our side." But he was a tool of logic now, and his only goal was balance. Ifran could count on him so long as his rise to power found balance. He was quiet, thinking as ever. "I think it likely her agent or primary agent will be male." "Agreed; there are too many things with which she would have trouble as a woman in Ahnatep. It would behoove her to contract a male to expedite her affairs." *** "Well met, sir." Some of the natural Eypharian superiority complex was dampened in Aru; he had learned valuable lessons from teachers of other races, and was detached enough intellectually to see strengths and weaknesses in all races, including his own. Unfortunately, the very detachment he had worked to achieve was often seen as a form of arrogance from people used to the hauteur of his people. Regardless, he was unfailingly polite. "I come on behalf of one who has recently reversed a contract with your client. I would speak privately with you if you are amenable."

[Clement Reijnder]

Clement, on the other hand, was an arrogant man. Born into wealth, afforded a better education than most, and generally managing to survive despite these things, he knew most of the time when he had the upper-hand on people. Yet the man’s words kept this attitude at least slightly tempered. He pushed off the pillar he was leaning against, turning easily with his foot in the sand. He motioned for the man to follow him.

[Ifran]

"I will need as much information on this agent of hers as possible," Ifran said. "Of course." It hardly bore saying, but he acknowledged the detail all the same. He had known Ifran for a long time, and as they had grown and the necessity for Ifran to keep his true self hidden also grew, the more he seemed to relish laying things out in plain speech to Aru, his confidant. Even things that were obvious, they were a relief from the masquerade. *** Follow him, Aru did, noting details about appearance and manner, using mnemonic devices to capture an eidetic picture of the man to later relate to Ifran so that it might be as if the man himself had been there all along. There was, of course, a chance that this was not the appropriate man, in which case he might be in peril, but there were always perilous chances with such subterfuges, and Aru accepted them.

[Clement Reijnder]

Clement led the man along, down around the pillars, away from the crowd, to the nearest buildings and then into an alley. He looked around slowly, making sure he could see no signs of anyone but the Eypharian and himself. Once he felt confident that they were along, he crossed his arms over her chest and stared at the man.

[Ifran]

And then Ifran had looked out the window, staring into space, into the wide matrix of possible futures. Aru knew this look well. He knew all of Ifran's looks. The eyes were an improbably vivid blue, and when he was distant like that, they were not made for looking outward but for steeping themselves in the cerulean essence of dreams. *** As Aru regarded this man, he wondered sometimes at Ifran's choice of messenger. He was able, of course, and could dissemble well enough to fool most men, though it was more difficult with his fellow cultists. He did not have Ifran's charm and charisma. He had seen the way people reacted to Ifran, women especially, but men as well. When that gaze was fixed on them, they preened a little, they warmed to him. Not so much that they would necessarily behave foolishly, but they were aware of him with a heightened intensity. Ifran had the seducer's gift; dangerous. Aru's dark eyes remained fixed on the man. He smiled. "You have authority to broker deals for Anubis?" he asked in polite, clipped Common.

[Clement Reijnder]

“I do. How might I be of service to you, sir?” he said in calm Arumenic. He spoke the language well enough that he rarely faltered in it, at least to the point where he could speak easily on business. Love poetry? Perhaps not. Discussion of murder? There was a bit of a poet’s soul in him then. One didn't fare well in the land of the many-armed without a descent grasp on their language - Which he personally felt sounded more like a bodily function than words. “Your master hails well?” His master wasn’t a man Clement trusted, though Cyrah said he was good for the money. He’d found that it was best not to trust people that one had been paid to kill. They were supposed to be dead for a reason.

[Ifran]

Aru smiled. He weighed the benefits of correcting or not correcting the man's mistake in his status vis-à-vis Ifran, and decided that for the time being it would be better for this man and the assassin he stood for to think that Ifran of the House of the North Winds was powerful and influential enough to have a pons of the Ano Cult doing his bidding. That was, if the man figured out who and what Aru was. He nodded. There was no need to name the man or his House, not here. "He has paid off the contract against him, and would like to develop a business relationship with you and your partner to facilitate future dealings."

[Clement Reijnder]

Clement moved to spread his hands out, a few knuckles broken and cracking in the desert heat, to show them empty – A sign that he was willing to deal with the man. His shoulders lifted up in a slight shrug. For only having two arms, he was typically rather good at taking the gestures he understood and managing to make them clear to understand on his own terms. He offered then a smile that could charm a snake. “I am here, am I not? Anubis is quite willing to keep regular clients in trade, though I am afraid that I am the one that must be dealt through. What does he have in mind?” He was clearly a rake, but in a sober state he made quite the curious creature. Combined with his careful pronunciations and quick tongue, the man presented himself in chiaroscuro.