![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
For Honey to Feed Them
Jedao only somewhat resembles himself. All the footage of him as Heptarch, even the live feeds for the Heptarchs in conference, is edited into a composite of all his doubles, and none of them look quite the same either. Instead of being surgically indistinguishable, they switch variations around from time to time. He rarely attends his official duties in person at all. He gets copied on everything, and his doubles know to cede to his secretaries or to communiqués when necessary.
Instead of forgeries, the Shuos seat under Jedao is a shell game.
When he was twenty-two and terrified out of his mind, it was a way to let people who had a clue what they were doing handle the day-to-day management. Now that he knows exactly what he's doing, it means he can move around with more impunity than most of his predecessors. Jedao could have sent a dozen agents for this. But for a piece this important, he likes to see who he's dealing with in person.
The garish neon-speckled dimness of the bar conveniently obscures everyone's shadows. He isn't even a Shuos here, let alone the Shuos, and Vidona Sinjir doesn't have to be a ray. Something he's needed more and more, lately.
Jedao slides into the seat next to him to puncture that inadequate sanctuary slightly, stealing a sip from Sinjir's drink and making a face.
"Hard day?"
Instead of forgeries, the Shuos seat under Jedao is a shell game.
When he was twenty-two and terrified out of his mind, it was a way to let people who had a clue what they were doing handle the day-to-day management. Now that he knows exactly what he's doing, it means he can move around with more impunity than most of his predecessors. Jedao could have sent a dozen agents for this. But for a piece this important, he likes to see who he's dealing with in person.
The garish neon-speckled dimness of the bar conveniently obscures everyone's shadows. He isn't even a Shuos here, let alone the Shuos, and Vidona Sinjir doesn't have to be a ray. Something he's needed more and more, lately.
Jedao slides into the seat next to him to puncture that inadequate sanctuary slightly, stealing a sip from Sinjir's drink and making a face.
"Hard day?"
no subject
"I want," he says after a contemplative pause, with a kind of deliberation that makes it more than innuendo, but not too much more, "To get to know you better."
no subject
no subject
"I may not like what I learn, but I still want to know." The more eyes the better, after all. And this, too, is the truth. Sinjir might already be too broken to be of any use, might be a willing heart still too full of the barbs of doctrine on one side or the rot of guilt and self-indulgence on the other. Or his agents might have misread the man completely, although he considers this less likely. No matter what, Jedao very much wants to know.
"I saw how you looked at my hands, earlier," he adds, with the faintest of smiles, and a gold button suddenly flipping between his fingers. "Unfortunately, I need those."
no subject
He waves a hand, again. "Pick your game." A half-truth has been given; time for Sinjir to fulfill his side of the bargain.
He doesn't give a damn what game it is. He expects Shuos to stack the deck, weight the dice, what-have-you; at any rate, he's not sober enough to make a good, coherent run at a tactical victory. He expects to lose. May even lose on purpose, just to see what happens.
no subject
no subject
He keeps an eye on Jedao's hands. Telltale signs that say a card's being palmed, or kept on the top or bottom of the deck. Not that he'd necessarily draw attention to it or object. He just wants to know if it's being done.
no subject
"So, yes."
no subject
Sinjir is, really, truly, on the scale of things, just easy. But he's feeling cranky and contrary. He's not sure if he'll roll over at one stroke of those lovely long fingers, but he hasn't yet, all right?
no subject
He lays out the cards, one by one.
"Unless you don't know what you want."
He says it quietly, thoughtfully. There's no trace of smugness; even the playful insinuation that's been near-constant until now fades away.
no subject
He is strongly inclined to end this encounter here. It's becoming an interrogation. Disloyalty looms like a spectre over them both; shadow and cold.
"Stepping onto dangerous ground there," he remarks. "Like a swamp. One wrong step, and slurp! Quicksand. What are we playing?"
no subject
"Jeng-zai, unless you have any objections?" Not that they have anything convenient to bet. But they've agreed to other stakes already, haven't they.
no subject
"None."
Sinjir plays well. Recklessly, but well, allowing the alcohol to unbalance a Vidona's natural, precise caution. Which doesn't mean he's without tactics -- his tactics are late surprises, undermining twists.
He even lets the game get his attention. Engages in it as a flirtation, as well, because the more he lets himself be caught up, the warmer Jedao's attention makes him feel.
He probably loses. Perhaps deliberately, if he thinks it will make him gains in a... different way.
no subject
"Well, I've certainly won something." He announces cheerfully, gathering the cards up to shuffle again. "But it was a very good game. I'll let you pick - a question answered, or a kiss?"