I come here in the hopes of a pleasant reunion with you before I'm sent out to a mission once more, and you immediately shove an experimental serum at me.
[he is laying it on thick.]
I feel the love.
[he is laying it on very thick.
silverash crosses one leg over the other, having made himself comfortable by using gnosis' bed as his personal armchair... just without the arms required for him to show just how much he owns this space, while still seeming effortlessly relaxed. but he's sure the sentiment is there, with his tail sprawled all over the bedding and surely shedding little hairs here and there for gnosis to find later and collect, especially when he's planning on getting even more fur everywhere. well, if gnosis would even let him. it seems his former cto has only one thing in mind today, and it's something not aligned with the only thing that silverash has in mind.
what a shame that is, but given silverash's set of skills, he's sure he can negotiate.]
[ the love: the long, lean line of gnosis' back as he perches over the sheathe of documents beneath the splay of his hand. his pen continues unabated to silverash's barely-veiled complaints, the lamplight doing not much else but to illuminate the single point of gnosis' focus. the trouble with having a cat, he thinks to himself, is that you have a cat. they meander, they don't come when they're called, they show up when they're not wanted, and they shed.
gnosis knows that silverash knows that gnosis is going to have a deeply unimpressed time at discovering snow leopard hairs in everything he owns for the next two weeks, but that's a thought barely worth parsing. it is silverash. it is gnosis. this is the way between them, and it's also why gnosis keeps a lint roller in the second drawer to the left. ]
Take one ampule of the serum now, and the second one in twelve hours. [ gnosis says, his pen continuing its persistent scratching across the page. he is immersed in result calculations and methodology refinement, the reporting of which he finds useful as a post-lab debrief. he doesn't even bother to look up. ] Use the 14-gauge needle. Then, take seven milligrams of the nifurbendazole, and lie down. I trust that you still remember your basic medical training?
[of course silverash remembers. such an important piece of knowledge to have-- only fools would purge such a thing from their minds. but why bother telling gnosis something that he already knows?
he wonders, what would gnosis do if he were to get up and rub his chin on the liberi's head to scent mark him? only one way to find out. but first, he does as gnosis asks, because there was never any doubt that the feline would. just as gnosis would do anything he asked, so would silverash, because that's just how they are. it has always been both of them against the world-- the "world" back in the day being kjerag. silverash makes no indication that he cares about the prick when he slides the needle into his upper arm. it might be on the large side, but the scars on the snow leopard's skin are evidence that he can take much, much more than that.
he sets the small kit on the bedside table when he's done and stands, moving to lean his broad chest against gnosis' back and rub not just his chin but also his cheek in the man's hair. feels a little dry-- has he been bathing properly?]
Are you not coming to bed? [an implication that he has no intention of lying down until gnosis comes with him.] How am I to enjoy my time here without you?
[ the liberi inclination to groom and be groomed is an outdated instinct tracing back to biological imperatives that worked for a climate and culture that the current world order no longer relies on. gnosis knows, however, the cavernous workings of his own mind better than anyone; you could not control yourself if you did not understand yourself.
silverash slides his chin and cheek across gnosis' hair, and gnosis allows his eyes to half-lid as the endorphins begin their slow wake-up call. he thinks, it will take weeks to wash off the pheromones so that every passing feline no longer scents him. this is not, however, a problem so much as it's a mere footnote. it is, after all, the way things are. ]
Are you not able to follow simple instructions? [ but the clinical, absent-minded rebuttal is just that - another performative throwaway that exists between gnosis and silverash. his right hand reaches up to card the side contour of silverash's face, a brief wordless admonishment, before it drops back down onto his papers. his left hand continues to write. ] And don't give me such drivel. You stopped by the Victorian bunkers on the way here. They will be impossible to speak to in the coming weeks.
[ a different kind of enjoyment, though whether from their inherent wariness of silverash or because he's managed to win three of them over in a truly obnoxious way remains to be seen. it is, however, none of gnosis' concern. ]
[gnosis' caress of his cheek is far too short, and it causes silverash's mind to work that much harder to come up with yet another plan to make the liberi abandon his work and come to bed.
he begins to thread his fingers through dark hair, only just barely brushing feathers, but he does pause at the beads and feathers that all members of the clan wear.]
When has that ever stopped you from performing as you always have? [anyone close to silverash has had to learn to deal with him and his eccentricities. as a rich, highborn man, raised the way he was and schooled the way he was, and a feline, there are a lot. part of that is gracing others with his presence and watching how they deal.
besides, networking is an important part of running a business.]
Has Gnosis Edelweiss finally lost his wall of ice and become vulnerable to the words of others?
[ greedy cat, covetous towards ruin. gnosis ought not spoil him. but the night is quiet, the research had born fruit, and silverash's hands are warm through the dry, brittle strands of his hair - gnosis allows it. there's a little noise of derision there as he continues his report. ]
Now that you have spoken such an absurd premise aloud, does it seem any less farcical? You seem to enjoy the sound of your own voice tonight. [ if there was ever such a thing as rolling your eyes without moving them, gnosis would be embodying it right around now. ] I have been assigned to the mission in Victoria; I wish to communicate with those Operators as little as needed. They now have questions, and it will be your fault. What do you have to say for yourself for setting up such a waste of my time, Enciodes?
[as he pretends to think, silverash leans most of his body weight against gnosis, tail creeping into the liberi's lap. ah... it's warm, for a man with such a chilly disposition. it's a comfort, especially when he thinks the effects of the serum are beginning to kick in. if gnosis meant for it to give him some vertigo... well, it worked.]
If you were to keep me company in bed, I shall shield you from prying questions. [he tucks his fingers behind one of gnosis' ears, brushing over the tender skin.] I am, after quite valuable to any squad-- I only need ask and I'll be added immediately.
[ the crucible of silverash's self control, gnosis thinks, is a manmade contraption that he would like to take apart someday, pry open the steel jaws of its machinery so that he may examine the ruthless workings of its churning gears within. he feels, rather than sees, the press of silverash's chest against his back, broad and warm and terribly annoying in jts unsolicited weight, and would have sought to move it had it not been the faintest flicker of an errant pulse.
gnosis' pen pauses for the first time tonight. he turns his head, deliberately allowing his lips to skim along the pulse point of silverash's neck. indulgent, exploratory. ]
Is that the only symptom so far?
[ he doesn't need to name it. after all, silverash has never failed to follow along. ]
Yes. [he doesn't even attempt to lie, or hide it. why should he? that would be a true offense to gnosis' perception.
especially when the room feels like it's swimming, even if his vision still holds steady, for now. his head feels like a half-filled water balloon specially made for higashi's summer festivals, that wobble and bobble with every movement. he tilts his head into gnosis' questing hand and the water rushes to the lower side, turning him dizzy.
if this is just the first symptom, whatever the liberi has managed to cook up will not be pleasant. on the other hand, if he's put out of commission with just this, a bruising to his pride notwithstanding, silverash might just be able to sleep through everything else.
silverash takes a deep breath to steady himself, then leans over to nibble at one of gnosis' fingers.]
Won't you come to bed and nurse me back to health?
[ both of them are aware of the stakes. a night mission, kazdel in flames. an aslan ascending. that silverash is involved at all bears political considerations. but before that - silverash's life in gnosis' hands. silverash takes a deep breath, and gnosis feels the air drawn as if from his own lungs into the broad caverns of silverash's chest. he listens for a moment, noting its depth, then lets his fingers flicker at silverash's offending mouth.
still, if it's beginning, then he ought to take a closer look. ]
If only you cared for your health as much as your mouth claims you do. [ he says. he takes off his glasses. the thin, red rims rest on the last segment of his unfinished report, similarly abandoned as he takes silverash's hand into his own. he pushes him into bed, then slides off the white of his labcoat, leaving behind the black of his inner, embroided vest. ]
[silverash allows himself to be led, half because this is a rare treat from gnosis, and half because his vision is swimming, making putting one foot in front of the other difficult. closing his eyes, he's just going by feeling now, from the hand around his own, and the directions he's being given.
in bed, he still doesn't attempt to open his eyes, but he does blindly tug his tail into his arms, fingers sinking into the plush coat.]
Will you tell me now, what this serum was meant to do? [and why a robust feline like silverash was needed to test it.
well, it's perhaps because silverash is quite robust, and resistant to many illnesses.]
Surely you're not planning on making people ill. Whoever managed to anger you that much?
Whoever would dare but you? [ and the unsaid: who else would gnosis allow? he is ice beneath snow beneath ice, the worst parts of kjerag distilled down into cold and fathomless frost. gnosis wouldn't burn if held to the torch. but those years ago, he had grown up side by side with a cat that had a mind as sharp as a scalpel and hands as warm as a hearth. he had made a decision, back then, and the edelweiss did not go back on their word.
tonight, he slips onto the bed, his knees carefully straddling silverash in such a way that he does not disturb the long curl of his tail. ]
The Sanguinarch, or so he is called, utilises his Arts to disrupt blood cell membranes, causing them to erupt and feeding him with ever-growing amount of ammunition. [ this, he explains, with uncharacteristic patience. his medical penlight is at hand as he tilts silverash's head back, carefully pulling up the lids of his eyes one at a time. the pupil dilations are there, as expected. his cool touch ghosts the side of silverash's neck, measuring his pulse. ] It's a troublesome ability. The serum counteracts that by tempering your body to it in two, incremental doses, limiting his effects to outside of the body.
[ satisfied, his penlight is set by the bedside table. ]
The serum has been tested; the results are within an acceptable range of side-effects versus protection. However, as you know, the way biological-based serums interact different depending on race. [ gnosis observes silverash from his perch, like something about his experimental condition could fascinate him. ] The serum has yet to be tested on a feline. I selected you.
[with the soft click in the air making one ear twitch, and the way gnosis moves him, silverash can tell that his face is being examined. but he can't quite see, he only sees a light-coloured blur pass over his vision and then all he can see are blurs of grey once more.
does that keep him from attempting to grab at gnosis? of course not. he reaches out with one hand first until his palm finds a liberi's wide but delicate chest, and rubs a circle on it.]
I should feel honoured. There are no other Felines as robust as me, are there?
[only two or three could give silverash a run for his money in certain situations, but this particular feline is secure in his ability to fit into any squad for just about any role.
and neither of those people would trust gnosis at all.]
If anyone else were in my place, they might have expired by now... Ah, at least I can still feel you. [even if his hand feels as if it were full of fur, the sensations muted as if someone were touching his tail rather than his bare skin.]
[ two drinks in, the modest little gala is starting to feel worth his time. kjerag has been a cold, humourless affair leading up to this point. despite cliffheart's ardent reassurances and the faraway blessing of a saintess herself, the majority of kaveh's time spent since arriving at the foot of the train station beneath the gaze of a winterlocked mountain has been being shown to various unfashionable disapproving old men in long fur coats who have opinions about outsiders and terrible judgment for what kaveh already considers untenably heavy winter wear.
in truth, he had been freezing upon arrival. alhaitham had already given him shit for choosing a patterned, feathered coat lined with fine black burdenbeast leather from northern sargon, and the judgment of the very first old, weathered man to lay eyes on him had kaveh prickling up like a defensive secretary bird, having decided that very moment that absolutely no-one will hear a single word of complaint from him about the cold or otherwise. but it had been cold, and it had been tedious, and by the time he had been passed along to be taken to the silverash residence, he was already ready to pack up and return to the comforts of rhodes island. as least some of them knew what fashion was, though doctor kal'tsit would have raised her eyebrow in a certain way that made him feel naked after all.
the promise of warmth and booze had been tempting. kaveh had been surprised by how little he wanted to join in on the festivities, if he had to be honest - he had spent some time on the train sketching the scenery and looking up local traditional kjerag wood treatments, but even the excitement for that had abated sometime between religious old curmudgeons #4 and #5. how unfriendly were these people, to treat outsiders like eyesores. kjerag has not been a purely isolationist country for years now, not since the incident that he'd gotten the doctor to brief him on in detail before he took the solo journey from rhodes island to the buttcrack of a holy mountain, but its people seem like the sturdy, hardened sort, the kind frozen in ice, the kind impossible to change. kaveh has been in places like that before - sami, the outlying villages of leithania, there was nowhere in the world where travellers were still welcome, but something about their gazes here said more than just get out - they said that he was a pawn in something that they weren't entirely sure of, but that they were looking to put him on trial regardless, and part of kaveh had realised that he didn't entirely disbelieve it himself.
still, the wine is good, and the warmth of the fireplace is fine. two drinks in, and the few nobility that he'd enticed over with a smile and a joke are now settled with him by the fire as he recounts a particularly harrowing story from his days in victoria on the great walls there. he gets to the part where he's standing on the edge of the wall, looking down upon the city blocks while the great cannons caught the light of the setting sun - when the sun proverbially sets and a shadow lingers along the sidelines of the party proper.
he hadn't met the patriarch of the silverash clan before. he'd seen his pictures; he'd done his due diligence in the briefing process, and the research that went into kjerag as a whole surrendered information regarding its political climate. you couldn't build a temple without knowing who wanted it there and who didn't; you couldn't build a bridge without knowing whose land you are bridging. he recognises a few traits from cliffheart: the colour of his ears and fur, the bright glance of his eyes. that is, however, where the similarities end. where cliffheart is a open book, heart-on-sleeves and sleeves-on-everything, enciodes silverash reminds kaveh a little of the unending mountains that he had crossed on his way here into the heart of the cold and the storm. he carries himself like the curl of a question mark, unasked and unanswered, pervasive and steady, but just on the cusp of a snowblind mystery.
his little party eventually part ways. kaveh lifts his mulled wine, third glass of the night gleaming in a jeweled hand, as he gets up to raise his glass to salute the owner of the manor. ]
And there's you. [ kaveh says, and the fall of his earrings jangle along the light of the lit flame. ] I was wondering when I would have the pleasure of meeting the owner of the manor, and the head of the household I am imposing upon. I am Kaveh, and I am very much enjoying your wine. Your taste is impeccable, Mister Silverash.
[this current endeavour may have begun thanks to ensia, but only the inner circle of the silverash clan really knows that the patriarch has wanted to get things either fixed or updated around kjerag for a while. at the very least, improve architecture in the silverash territory, because buildings eventually fall to the weather, no matter how well-built they are hundreds of years ago. they'll eventually show their age, the wear and tear from the seasons.
and the snow has always been the harshest of weather conditions.
karlan co's headquarters may be the most advanced building in the snow realm, and the silverash manor may have been updated, but other places need help. other structures need to be changed to withstand the snow and time.
this need, his sister's desires aside, is what makes enciodes silverash determined to protect this sargonian architect with all of the resources he has on hand. it helps however that the man is quite pretty, and with a brash sense of humour. enough to make enciodes smile wide enough to show his fangs.]
Nothing but the best for a distinguished guest. [the emphasis on those particular words is not an accident. there are listening ears everywhere, and he wants to make sure that people know there will be hell to pay if they do something to kaveh. a feather out of place, and all of that good stuff. but secretly, enciodes is hoping that his enemies make a move-- so he has an excuse to cut them down. the paleroches would be the more likely culprits if something like that were to happen. the browntails are more sedate these days.]
I hope there haven't been any major incidents so far-- I heard you came to the Snow Realm without an escort. I could have sent one of my retainers with you for the journey.
[he's close to chiding kaveh for such a reckless move.]
And impose upon you and Miss Ensia further? [ kaveh's voice rises with a musical lilt of a laugh, stepping forward to allow his long feathered tail to trail and tremble in the firelight. ] Nonsense. Your household is already putting up with me; I couldn't ask for someone to drop everything they're doing and follow me around as I sit on a train for sixteen hours.
Besides, [ he says, and his voice drops down to a conspiratorial murmur, pure theatrics complimented by a little gleam to the red of his eyes. ] I had quite the view on the way.
[ he had not, in fact, been born yesterday. before becoming a combat engineer, kaveh had been an architect. before being an architect, kaveh had whet the scalpel of his mind upon the greatest thinkers of the akademiya. those unaware often assume that he had graduated for his unparalleled vision, when in reality, you could not emerge from the crucible of the akademiya without your vision having teeth. kaveh travels alone because it offers him an unfiltered view of a country. the grouchy religious curmudgeons were as much of the scenery as the snow and the mountains and the firelight dancing in silverash's parlour. it told him who may not want him here, and why. 'distinguished guest', silverash says, and kaveh hears in its lilt the implications of thorn in someone else's side, a painted target with a purpose. it was alhaitham who taught him that.
oddly, the beginnings of interest stirs once more, more so than whatever the wine and the fire could have kindled. kaveh beams, a brilliant, refracted thing as he gestures for silverash to join him by the fire in one of these magnificent plush couches designed in the traditional victorian style. they really are quite nice. ]
Still, you are right to have called it a journey. I was in southern Sami not a scant three years ago, and even the snowfields there holds nary a candle to the size of the drifts I saw coming through the mountain pass. The elevation changes the very face of what snow is capable of; it humbles me. [ kaveh grins. ] Ah, look at me, holding one of your fine vintages while you're entirely dry. Will you do me the honour of having a glass with me tonight?
[enciodes gives kaveh a smirk-- as if to say I thought you'd never ask-- and sits down beside the man, crossing his legs. his massive tail on the other hand, relaxes on the couch behind and beside him, the end hanging off of the edge. the couch, despite the best efforts of the cleaners, is full of hidden white hairs thanks to the snow leopards living in this structure, and enciodes is about to add to that count.]
Had you agreed to a guide, I would have had Chester pick you up at the station. [he reaches for the wine glass kaveh is holding onto. not the wine bottle, but the glass. now that he's settled himself on plush cushions, why should he stand up just to get a measly glass?]
Still we'll escort you back to Rhodes Island. There are, after all, other Operators in Silverash territory, and some of them may just have official Rhodes business to attend to.
[weiss, matterhorn. himself. degenbrecher, even if she's not part of rhodes. she can still escort him, as long as enciodes sends advanced notice.]
[ like a man used to being served hand and foot, kaveh thinks, but it isn't terribly surprising. enciodes silverash has a carefully-crafted reputation. to his company on the ground, he is a down-to-earth leader who cares for his people, willing to step into the mire to move industry. for rhodes island, he is a benefactor and an agent beyond parallel, clever, and reliable, and reliably clever, with solutions to even the most stringent of operations. and here - the master of the household, a curl of amusement, here to entertain the feathery little sargonian architect dropped into the middle of what kaveh is beginning to think is a political fiasco in the making.
kaveh, for his part, smiles. ]
If that's the case, I'd be glad for the company. We'll speak of it when it comes to it; after all, we've yet to discuss the projects you had in mind, and what the timeline may be. [ of course he pours silverash the wine. the rich, red of a dossoles vintage aerates into a long, fluted glass. he recognises the flourish along its stem; leithanian glassblowers working with sargonian sand. he takes his own glass, still half-full, and raises it. ] Tell me, are there some Kjerag drinking customs that I should be aware of? Your party guests demurred, but they also seemed far too polite to tell an outsider like me the what's what.
[better dossoles red than chhaang, but that's because silverash gained an appreciation for fruit-made drinks when he was still a student in victoria, and sneaking bottles of whatever he could get his hands on into the dorm. his peers, of course, knew, but everyone kept quiet because they too were doing all the same things.]
It's proper to pour while holding the bottle with both hands, and that you do not pour for yourself until everyone has had their glasses filled.
Best not to get have a swig out in public, however. People look down such folk. [even if the sip was relatively harmless in the long run. ah, kjerag. too strict.]
But you needn't worry about customs around me. Drink as you please. [he taps his glass gently against kaveh's, like a proper victorian gentleman.]
[ pour with both hands in a society locked in ice, where even at a houseparty, everyone's formalwear buttons itself up along its seams. kaveh and his love for ostenatious plunging necklines in the sargonian style are on trial tonight, but he suspects the judgment so far has been well hidden precisely because of the master of the manor, who speaks of kjerag drinking customs while gracing him with a victorian tilt of his cup.
kaveh follows along, tilting victorian with his cup in turn, and taking a swig. dossoles red goes down smoothly. ]
We shall see if you or I first regret giving me unfettered permission to your wine. [ he jokes, laughter in his eyes. ] It will be a race.
[enciodes smirks. kaveh thinks he can make even a dent in his personal stash, can he? typical liberi confidence-- enciodes will have to watch and see if he really can.
and have a medic with experience in alcohol poisoning at hand, just in case.]
Architect Kaveh, if you manage to improve the infrastructure of my territory, I'll consider that well worth the sacrifice of my wine cellar. [after a long, deep sip of his wine, he gives kaveh a nod.] I do have high hopes for you.
[the other clans do not, skeptical that a man from the sandy deserts can understand what is needed to build houses and bridges that can withstand the snow. but silverash knows better than them.]
[ enciodes silverash, kaveh thinks, smirks much in the way that alhaitham doesn't. there's a striking similarity in the set of their arrogance, but while alhaitham is inward-seeking, silverash is outward-exuding, like a furnace within a snowstorm. you couldn't help but look in this direction.
misdirection, he thinks. he is a magician in his spare time, one of cards and dice. but what is he misdirecting, and how shall kaveh see it? ]
Master architect. [ he corrects, but the lack of true hubris is on display - a mere change in terminology, red for blue. he is what he is. his eyes sharpen. ] On my way in, I took liberty to look at some of the outlying temples. Your buildings are built on a foundation of stone, but the walls and roofs themselves are ceramic tile and an ancient kjerag woodwork technique, that seals the temples without joinery. Your buildings are without seams. Repairwork is not impossible, but it's both time-intensive and costly, and requires a degree of woodworking mastery that I estimate no more than five people on this continent would be capable of. I will need a team, time and resources.
[ his eyes glint, ] And permission to study your buildings up-close. I'm afraid I wasn't granted much time to take a look today.
No matter how well you join two pieces together, there will always be little gaps here and there, and traditional methods of filling those holes never stand the test of time. The best way to avoid this erosion is to have as few of these gaps as possible.
It's because of this that I allowed myself to be swayed by Ensia. ["swayed", he says, when he had his own reasons for approving his sister's requests, entirely detached from her. it's almost always politics for enciodes, always a way to get ahead. sometimes, it's also a desire to continue to modernize his slice of kjerag, but even then, it's politically motivated in some way.]
So, Master Architect... You shall have whatever you want, as long as the work gets done. [as long as the silverash patriarch is satisfied with the work, as well.] If you need to rip a structure from the ground and start over on the land, then you'll have the tools and materials to do so, and my full blessing.
But I insist on giving you guards. Life in the Snow Realm can be dangerous. [especially with the paleroches still plotting.]
[ kaveh had been expecting this. one wouldn't be allowed to gallivant around someone else's capital without being on a leash. it is, in fact, a fact of life when large amounts of someone else's capital is being put into buildings that only so far exist in your head. there is what kaveh prefers - the freedom of movement, the unfettered privilege to create, the autonomy to choose - and then there are the constraints that kaveh will accept barring any other reasonable alternative.
he had seen the snow drifts of the snow realm, and how deep they bury. at least sami's skeletons were on it surface, etched in ice. the glint in kaveh's eyes is mercenary as he leans in. ]
Give me someone that has an appreciation of the arts, then. I always find that it takes two people on the same page to have a good conversation. If I'm to have them follow me around, allow me to learn from them.
[very particular, is what enciodes thinks of kaveh's request in a guard. that rules out weiss, matterhorn, and degenbrecher, all three of enciodes' most trusted retainers who could reliably serve as guards. if he pulled some strings, he could have approached lara, but there's no guarantee that she would agree... or even have the free time to do so.
he drums his fingers on his knee as he thinks, before deciding that there's really only one body who could reasonably take up the job.]
I can think of one person who fits your requirements.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[he is laying it on thick.]
I feel the love.
[he is laying it on very thick.
silverash crosses one leg over the other, having made himself comfortable by using gnosis' bed as his personal armchair... just without the arms required for him to show just how much he owns this space, while still seeming effortlessly relaxed. but he's sure the sentiment is there, with his tail sprawled all over the bedding and surely shedding little hairs here and there for gnosis to find later and collect, especially when he's planning on getting even more fur everywhere. well, if gnosis would even let him. it seems his former cto has only one thing in mind today, and it's something not aligned with the only thing that silverash has in mind.
what a shame that is, but given silverash's set of skills, he's sure he can negotiate.]
no subject
gnosis knows that silverash knows that gnosis is going to have a deeply unimpressed time at discovering snow leopard hairs in everything he owns for the next two weeks, but that's a thought barely worth parsing. it is silverash. it is gnosis. this is the way between them, and it's also why gnosis keeps a lint roller in the second drawer to the left. ]
Take one ampule of the serum now, and the second one in twelve hours. [ gnosis says, his pen continuing its persistent scratching across the page. he is immersed in result calculations and methodology refinement, the reporting of which he finds useful as a post-lab debrief. he doesn't even bother to look up. ] Use the 14-gauge needle. Then, take seven milligrams of the nifurbendazole, and lie down. I trust that you still remember your basic medical training?
no subject
he wonders, what would gnosis do if he were to get up and rub his chin on the liberi's head to scent mark him? only one way to find out. but first, he does as gnosis asks, because there was never any doubt that the feline would. just as gnosis would do anything he asked, so would silverash, because that's just how they are. it has always been both of them against the world-- the "world" back in the day being kjerag. silverash makes no indication that he cares about the prick when he slides the needle into his upper arm. it might be on the large side, but the scars on the snow leopard's skin are evidence that he can take much, much more than that.
he sets the small kit on the bedside table when he's done and stands, moving to lean his broad chest against gnosis' back and rub not just his chin but also his cheek in the man's hair. feels a little dry-- has he been bathing properly?]
Are you not coming to bed? [an implication that he has no intention of lying down until gnosis comes with him.] How am I to enjoy my time here without you?
no subject
silverash slides his chin and cheek across gnosis' hair, and gnosis allows his eyes to half-lid as the endorphins begin their slow wake-up call. he thinks, it will take weeks to wash off the pheromones so that every passing feline no longer scents him. this is not, however, a problem so much as it's a mere footnote. it is, after all, the way things are. ]
Are you not able to follow simple instructions? [ but the clinical, absent-minded rebuttal is just that - another performative throwaway that exists between gnosis and silverash. his right hand reaches up to card the side contour of silverash's face, a brief wordless admonishment, before it drops back down onto his papers. his left hand continues to write. ] And don't give me such drivel. You stopped by the Victorian bunkers on the way here. They will be impossible to speak to in the coming weeks.
[ a different kind of enjoyment, though whether from their inherent wariness of silverash or because he's managed to win three of them over in a truly obnoxious way remains to be seen. it is, however, none of gnosis' concern. ]
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he begins to thread his fingers through dark hair, only just barely brushing feathers, but he does pause at the beads and feathers that all members of the clan wear.]
When has that ever stopped you from performing as you always have? [anyone close to silverash has had to learn to deal with him and his eccentricities. as a rich, highborn man, raised the way he was and schooled the way he was, and a feline, there are a lot. part of that is gracing others with his presence and watching how they deal.
besides, networking is an important part of running a business.]
Has Gnosis Edelweiss finally lost his wall of ice and become vulnerable to the words of others?
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Now that you have spoken such an absurd premise aloud, does it seem any less farcical? You seem to enjoy the sound of your own voice tonight. [ if there was ever such a thing as rolling your eyes without moving them, gnosis would be embodying it right around now. ] I have been assigned to the mission in Victoria; I wish to communicate with those Operators as little as needed. They now have questions, and it will be your fault. What do you have to say for yourself for setting up such a waste of my time, Enciodes?
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[as he pretends to think, silverash leans most of his body weight against gnosis, tail creeping into the liberi's lap. ah... it's warm, for a man with such a chilly disposition. it's a comfort, especially when he thinks the effects of the serum are beginning to kick in. if gnosis meant for it to give him some vertigo... well, it worked.]
If you were to keep me company in bed, I shall shield you from prying questions. [he tucks his fingers behind one of gnosis' ears, brushing over the tender skin.] I am, after quite valuable to any squad-- I only need ask and I'll be added immediately.
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gnosis' pen pauses for the first time tonight. he turns his head, deliberately allowing his lips to skim along the pulse point of silverash's neck. indulgent, exploratory. ]
Is that the only symptom so far?
[ he doesn't need to name it. after all, silverash has never failed to follow along. ]
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especially when the room feels like it's swimming, even if his vision still holds steady, for now. his head feels like a half-filled water balloon specially made for higashi's summer festivals, that wobble and bobble with every movement. he tilts his head into gnosis' questing hand and the water rushes to the lower side, turning him dizzy.
if this is just the first symptom, whatever the liberi has managed to cook up will not be pleasant. on the other hand, if he's put out of commission with just this, a bruising to his pride notwithstanding, silverash might just be able to sleep through everything else.
silverash takes a deep breath to steady himself, then leans over to nibble at one of gnosis' fingers.]
Won't you come to bed and nurse me back to health?
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still, if it's beginning, then he ought to take a closer look. ]
If only you cared for your health as much as your mouth claims you do. [ he says. he takes off his glasses. the thin, red rims rest on the last segment of his unfinished report, similarly abandoned as he takes silverash's hand into his own. he pushes him into bed, then slides off the white of his labcoat, leaving behind the black of his inner, embroided vest. ]
Lie down.
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in bed, he still doesn't attempt to open his eyes, but he does blindly tug his tail into his arms, fingers sinking into the plush coat.]
Will you tell me now, what this serum was meant to do? [and why a robust feline like silverash was needed to test it.
well, it's perhaps because silverash is quite robust, and resistant to many illnesses.]
Surely you're not planning on making people ill. Whoever managed to anger you that much?
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tonight, he slips onto the bed, his knees carefully straddling silverash in such a way that he does not disturb the long curl of his tail. ]
The Sanguinarch, or so he is called, utilises his Arts to disrupt blood cell membranes, causing them to erupt and feeding him with ever-growing amount of ammunition. [ this, he explains, with uncharacteristic patience. his medical penlight is at hand as he tilts silverash's head back, carefully pulling up the lids of his eyes one at a time. the pupil dilations are there, as expected. his cool touch ghosts the side of silverash's neck, measuring his pulse. ] It's a troublesome ability. The serum counteracts that by tempering your body to it in two, incremental doses, limiting his effects to outside of the body.
[ satisfied, his penlight is set by the bedside table. ]
The serum has been tested; the results are within an acceptable range of side-effects versus protection. However, as you know, the way biological-based serums interact different depending on race. [ gnosis observes silverash from his perch, like something about his experimental condition could fascinate him. ] The serum has yet to be tested on a feline. I selected you.
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does that keep him from attempting to grab at gnosis? of course not. he reaches out with one hand first until his palm finds a liberi's wide but delicate chest, and rubs a circle on it.]
I should feel honoured. There are no other Felines as robust as me, are there?
[only two or three could give silverash a run for his money in certain situations, but this particular feline is secure in his ability to fit into any squad for just about any role.
and neither of those people would trust gnosis at all.]
If anyone else were in my place, they might have expired by now... Ah, at least I can still feel you. [even if his hand feels as if it were full of fur, the sensations muted as if someone were touching his tail rather than his bare skin.]
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in truth, he had been freezing upon arrival. alhaitham had already given him shit for choosing a patterned, feathered coat lined with fine black burdenbeast leather from northern sargon, and the judgment of the very first old, weathered man to lay eyes on him had kaveh prickling up like a defensive secretary bird, having decided that very moment that absolutely no-one will hear a single word of complaint from him about the cold or otherwise. but it had been cold, and it had been tedious, and by the time he had been passed along to be taken to the silverash residence, he was already ready to pack up and return to the comforts of rhodes island. as least some of them knew what fashion was, though doctor kal'tsit would have raised her eyebrow in a certain way that made him feel naked after all.
the promise of warmth and booze had been tempting. kaveh had been surprised by how little he wanted to join in on the festivities, if he had to be honest - he had spent some time on the train sketching the scenery and looking up local traditional kjerag wood treatments, but even the excitement for that had abated sometime between religious old curmudgeons #4 and #5. how unfriendly were these people, to treat outsiders like eyesores. kjerag has not been a purely isolationist country for years now, not since the incident that he'd gotten the doctor to brief him on in detail before he took the solo journey from rhodes island to the buttcrack of a holy mountain, but its people seem like the sturdy, hardened sort, the kind frozen in ice, the kind impossible to change. kaveh has been in places like that before - sami, the outlying villages of leithania, there was nowhere in the world where travellers were still welcome, but something about their gazes here said more than just get out - they said that he was a pawn in something that they weren't entirely sure of, but that they were looking to put him on trial regardless, and part of kaveh had realised that he didn't entirely disbelieve it himself.
still, the wine is good, and the warmth of the fireplace is fine. two drinks in, and the few nobility that he'd enticed over with a smile and a joke are now settled with him by the fire as he recounts a particularly harrowing story from his days in victoria on the great walls there. he gets to the part where he's standing on the edge of the wall, looking down upon the city blocks while the great cannons caught the light of the setting sun - when the sun proverbially sets and a shadow lingers along the sidelines of the party proper.
he hadn't met the patriarch of the silverash clan before. he'd seen his pictures; he'd done his due diligence in the briefing process, and the research that went into kjerag as a whole surrendered information regarding its political climate. you couldn't build a temple without knowing who wanted it there and who didn't; you couldn't build a bridge without knowing whose land you are bridging. he recognises a few traits from cliffheart: the colour of his ears and fur, the bright glance of his eyes. that is, however, where the similarities end. where cliffheart is a open book, heart-on-sleeves and sleeves-on-everything, enciodes silverash reminds kaveh a little of the unending mountains that he had crossed on his way here into the heart of the cold and the storm. he carries himself like the curl of a question mark, unasked and unanswered, pervasive and steady, but just on the cusp of a snowblind mystery.
his little party eventually part ways. kaveh lifts his mulled wine, third glass of the night gleaming in a jeweled hand, as he gets up to raise his glass to salute the owner of the manor. ]
And there's you. [ kaveh says, and the fall of his earrings jangle along the light of the lit flame. ] I was wondering when I would have the pleasure of meeting the owner of the manor, and the head of the household I am imposing upon. I am Kaveh, and I am very much enjoying your wine. Your taste is impeccable, Mister Silverash.
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and the snow has always been the harshest of weather conditions.
karlan co's headquarters may be the most advanced building in the snow realm, and the silverash manor may have been updated, but other places need help. other structures need to be changed to withstand the snow and time.
this need, his sister's desires aside, is what makes enciodes silverash determined to protect this sargonian architect with all of the resources he has on hand. it helps however that the man is quite pretty, and with a brash sense of humour. enough to make enciodes smile wide enough to show his fangs.]
Nothing but the best for a distinguished guest. [the emphasis on those particular words is not an accident. there are listening ears everywhere, and he wants to make sure that people know there will be hell to pay if they do something to kaveh. a feather out of place, and all of that good stuff. but secretly, enciodes is hoping that his enemies make a move-- so he has an excuse to cut them down. the paleroches would be the more likely culprits if something like that were to happen. the browntails are more sedate these days.]
I hope there haven't been any major incidents so far-- I heard you came to the Snow Realm without an escort. I could have sent one of my retainers with you for the journey.
[he's close to chiding kaveh for such a reckless move.]
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Besides, [ he says, and his voice drops down to a conspiratorial murmur, pure theatrics complimented by a little gleam to the red of his eyes. ] I had quite the view on the way.
[ he had not, in fact, been born yesterday. before becoming a combat engineer, kaveh had been an architect. before being an architect, kaveh had whet the scalpel of his mind upon the greatest thinkers of the akademiya. those unaware often assume that he had graduated for his unparalleled vision, when in reality, you could not emerge from the crucible of the akademiya without your vision having teeth. kaveh travels alone because it offers him an unfiltered view of a country. the grouchy religious curmudgeons were as much of the scenery as the snow and the mountains and the firelight dancing in silverash's parlour. it told him who may not want him here, and why. 'distinguished guest', silverash says, and kaveh hears in its lilt the implications of thorn in someone else's side, a painted target with a purpose. it was alhaitham who taught him that.
oddly, the beginnings of interest stirs once more, more so than whatever the wine and the fire could have kindled. kaveh beams, a brilliant, refracted thing as he gestures for silverash to join him by the fire in one of these magnificent plush couches designed in the traditional victorian style. they really are quite nice. ]
Still, you are right to have called it a journey. I was in southern Sami not a scant three years ago, and even the snowfields there holds nary a candle to the size of the drifts I saw coming through the mountain pass. The elevation changes the very face of what snow is capable of; it humbles me. [ kaveh grins. ] Ah, look at me, holding one of your fine vintages while you're entirely dry. Will you do me the honour of having a glass with me tonight?
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Had you agreed to a guide, I would have had Chester pick you up at the station. [he reaches for the wine glass kaveh is holding onto. not the wine bottle, but the glass. now that he's settled himself on plush cushions, why should he stand up just to get a measly glass?]
Still we'll escort you back to Rhodes Island. There are, after all, other Operators in Silverash territory, and some of them may just have official Rhodes business to attend to.
[weiss, matterhorn. himself. degenbrecher, even if she's not part of rhodes. she can still escort him, as long as enciodes sends advanced notice.]
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kaveh, for his part, smiles. ]
If that's the case, I'd be glad for the company. We'll speak of it when it comes to it; after all, we've yet to discuss the projects you had in mind, and what the timeline may be. [ of course he pours silverash the wine. the rich, red of a dossoles vintage aerates into a long, fluted glass. he recognises the flourish along its stem; leithanian glassblowers working with sargonian sand. he takes his own glass, still half-full, and raises it. ] Tell me, are there some Kjerag drinking customs that I should be aware of? Your party guests demurred, but they also seemed far too polite to tell an outsider like me the what's what.
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It's proper to pour while holding the bottle with both hands, and that you do not pour for yourself until everyone has had their glasses filled.
Best not to get have a swig out in public, however. People look down such folk. [even if the sip was relatively harmless in the long run. ah, kjerag. too strict.]
But you needn't worry about customs around me. Drink as you please. [he taps his glass gently against kaveh's, like a proper victorian gentleman.]
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kaveh follows along, tilting victorian with his cup in turn, and taking a swig. dossoles red goes down smoothly. ]
We shall see if you or I first regret giving me unfettered permission to your wine. [ he jokes, laughter in his eyes. ] It will be a race.
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and have a medic with experience in alcohol poisoning at hand, just in case.]
Architect Kaveh, if you manage to improve the infrastructure of my territory, I'll consider that well worth the sacrifice of my wine cellar. [after a long, deep sip of his wine, he gives kaveh a nod.] I do have high hopes for you.
[the other clans do not, skeptical that a man from the sandy deserts can understand what is needed to build houses and bridges that can withstand the snow. but silverash knows better than them.]
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misdirection, he thinks. he is a magician in his spare time, one of cards and dice. but what is he misdirecting, and how shall kaveh see it? ]
Master architect. [ he corrects, but the lack of true hubris is on display - a mere change in terminology, red for blue. he is what he is. his eyes sharpen. ] On my way in, I took liberty to look at some of the outlying temples. Your buildings are built on a foundation of stone, but the walls and roofs themselves are ceramic tile and an ancient kjerag woodwork technique, that seals the temples without joinery. Your buildings are without seams. Repairwork is not impossible, but it's both time-intensive and costly, and requires a degree of woodworking mastery that I estimate no more than five people on this continent would be capable of. I will need a team, time and resources.
[ his eyes glint, ] And permission to study your buildings up-close. I'm afraid I wasn't granted much time to take a look today.
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It's because of this that I allowed myself to be swayed by Ensia. ["swayed", he says, when he had his own reasons for approving his sister's requests, entirely detached from her. it's almost always politics for enciodes, always a way to get ahead. sometimes, it's also a desire to continue to modernize his slice of kjerag, but even then, it's politically motivated in some way.]
So, Master Architect... You shall have whatever you want, as long as the work gets done. [as long as the silverash patriarch is satisfied with the work, as well.] If you need to rip a structure from the ground and start over on the land, then you'll have the tools and materials to do so, and my full blessing.
But I insist on giving you guards. Life in the Snow Realm can be dangerous. [especially with the paleroches still plotting.]
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he had seen the snow drifts of the snow realm, and how deep they bury. at least sami's skeletons were on it surface, etched in ice. the glint in kaveh's eyes is mercenary as he leans in. ]
Give me someone that has an appreciation of the arts, then. I always find that it takes two people on the same page to have a good conversation. If I'm to have them follow me around, allow me to learn from them.
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he drums his fingers on his knee as he thinks, before deciding that there's really only one body who could reasonably take up the job.]
I can think of one person who fits your requirements.
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