eastbound | Audio / un: of corpse not

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Audio / un: of corpse not

[ Originally recorded the day of the senator's ill-fated party.
Jacob's voice is sore, rough from coughing, and throughout the recording he coughs periodically, as if he's just escaped a fire. ]

It's a snake. The Chained God. A great big fucking snake, covered in... in bits of paper. With writing on. Couldn't read it.

The chains are too. We were chaining him up, the the floor. It was broken, full of fissures. Not the chains, the floor.

We were chaining him, and he was... he said he someone else had... broken the womb? Birthed destruction? Not him. Or they'd taken up the mantle, because they'd chained him up.

[ He coughs then, and keeps coughing until someone seems to pass him a drink, and he murmurs thanks.]

That priestess. She asked me afterwards. If he was still a threat, I think. Told her that he was a bloody god, and they'd chained him up, so if he got loose then they'd be fucked.

That's... that's what I rememeber. Before the fire started.

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[Wen walks softly, shoes hardly making a sound, the fabric of his robes a sigh of silk. If you're distracted by the noises in the Jug, you might miss it, but Jacob is listening for them, eyes closed, breathing slow. He doesn't open them when the door opens either, only when the smell of the mint hits him and he picks it up off the desk. He examines it a second, but Wen is already grabbing for his wrist.]

Didn't you tell me not to take any more drugs from pretty people?

[But he submits to the examination anyway.]

Not proper assassins. Just killers. I've seen better.

If I wanted to drug you I'd do it without your notice. ( A sideways glance, prim. ) Fortunately for you it's not exactly my style. It's just mint, it should help soothe any irritation on your throat.

( His pulse seems fine, but still Wen Kexing is frowning as he lets go, finds a cup in his desk drawers to pour the water into it. )

Anything other than the fire?

Now where's the fun in that?

[ Jacob knows its mint. He rememebers it from his grandmother's garden, growing like a weed and threatebing the other herbs, like some sort of bully taking up all avaliable space. He picks off a leaf from the sprig, chewing it while he watches Wen fuss.

He seems so grumpy. Is he upset he missed the fun? Did the girls get caught up in the fire?]

There was a murder. A few, I think. I wasn't in a fit state to tell who. Are your people okay? They got out?

All accounted for. They know to run if things turn south, there's no amount of coin around to risk losing a life for.

( He'd been sure to tell them all so since the matter with Allir had come to light. A few still seem to believe he might turn on them were they not to bring in the requisite amount of money but truthfully Wen Kexing does not care. Corners can be cut elsewhere, as long as everyone is safe. )

What turned the tide, do you think? Did anyone say anything during the attack? The why's, more specifically.

No. But there's too many rich sods in the world that will push your people in front of a blade.

[ People are like that everywhere. Ephes is no different from London in that reapect. ]

Turned the tide? That's an assumption and a half. There was a lot of screaming Wenny, people didn't stop to make hypotheses. But considering where it hapoened? Politics. And all this shit with Messalina will be the root of it. Most of the big players were there.

( Guilt sits in the hollow of his throat - how many innocent people have died because Wen Kexing set his own monsters out in the political landscape? Zhang Chengling's family for one, but there are countless others out there too. He is no less awful than the people here. )

You don't send assassins on a whim, and more often than not the deaths are part of a message. You might be right though, Messalina has everyone acting poorly. ( He nudges the water towards Jacob more pointedly and then wanders off to the other side of the room to find wine, bottle clinging. ) Did you see their disagreements before? The senates, I mean.

You might, if you're mad. But I doubt that's what happened here. This was a convenient time and place, and yes there was a message. But I think the fancy bastards that got killed might well have been to stop them voting. I'll get their names in the morning.

[ He should be doing it now. But he knows that he's not fit enough to try. Besides, there are other ears listening tonight, and he can find out what he knows from them.

He pulls the water closer, making a face. ]

Didn't you say you had beer? And yeah, I saw that debate. If you can call it that.

Drink your water first.

( He leans against a chest in the corner of the room, popping the cork from his wine with easily. Taking a long, pointed gulp, Wen Kexing eyes Jacob from where he is, something thoughtful in his expression. )

You'll tell me the names, when you do? If you could find which way they intended to vote, that would be useful too. ( A pause. ) Be careful, though. I fear we're involved in something far bigger than ourselves. ( Another gulp of wine. ) This is why I hate politics.

Yes mother.

[He picks up the glass and then downs it, swallowing each gulp and keeping his eyes on the other man. When it's empty, the glass is set down again. If Wen is having wine, Jacob gets it too.]

Of course we are. That's what politics is. A lot bigger than us, but it's going to royally screw us all up if we don't do something about it. The people in Ephes are going to suffer, the rest of the people in this world are going to suffer, and we might never go home. Which may or may not be suffering, depending on where you're from.

What's in it for me? Giving you the information?

( An overly dramatic sigh and then Wen Kexing is going back to the crates to pull another bottle free, shorter, a little rounder - beer, like he'd offered. He carries it over to Jacob without a word, setting it down in front of him before he lifts his own wine bottle to his mouth. )

Coin, as per. Unless you're more into drugs nowadays. We do have those here too.

( Not that he's ever tried it himself. Wen Kexing might be desperate to see the world in all its shapes and colours but the idea of losing himself to something unfamiliar puts him off. Oh, drinking to excess is fine, he's used to that, nobody's killed him yet, but anything else he's shy of. )

And what does Master Frye think we should do then?

[The sigh has Jacob raising an eyebrow.]

Are you considering a life on the stage? You may need a little more practice.

[But he mutters thanks anyway when the bottle is handed over, uncorking it and pouring the measure into the glass- careful that the foam doesn't spill over.]

Money is fine. You can pay the rent with it, for a start.

As for what I'd do? Find out who was dead, what they were going to vote for, find the correlation. Then go pay a visit to any known enemies, watch them for a while, and look through their paperwork. We'll work out who is at fault, but whether that changes the outcome of the vote or not... that much I can't promise.

You think I wouldn't be a natural?

( With a smirk, an eyeroll. )

Oh, it will certainly change the outcome of the vote. Fear is a wonderful motivator. It will make people second guess no matter way they were planning to go. We'll be lucky if they don't all abstain. It's a mess, and we're all stuck in the centre of it.

To play a put-upon housewife? An annoying sister? Without a doubt.

[He clears his throat again, smoke still causing a strange unpleasant sensation, and sips at the beer. Maybe it's the mint, maybe the water, maybe the beer, but it does begin to ease that unpleasantness.]

Oh, I doubt they'd abstain. That's what cowards do, and they don't want to be seen as cowards. They're proud Ephians. But... you know, maybe if we offer them some reason to trust us, they could still vote the way we want. Bodyguards and protection? They might go for that.

We'd have to all agree on a course of action for that, though that might be useful.

( Thoughtfully. )

You're very eager to offer yourself up, Master Frye.

We have one already, our dear friend Petronius. He may want a new bodyguard, or an assistant. And if his colleagues are told "well Petronius has one of those new strong, brave outlander guards" they may choose to have one. We don't need to have all of them come on side at the same time. Simply... start a fashion.

[He takes another sip of beer, slowly letting it ease his throat.]

I didn't say I'd do it. Can't be in two places at once, alas.

I meant more within our specific group.

( Those who have been taken. )

This one voiced some concerns over the ... network, isn't it? It would appear the majority hope to coast by this whole affair by doing whatever it is Messalina wants. It's been interesting, to say the least. Those voting against her might not get the same protection as the others.

( Wen Kexing could offer himself up, but he has long stopped being someone else's lackey. He's more interested in working behind the scenes. )

I do not know what could be a good enough incentive to have them risk their lives. The threat of the undead may seem paltry, compared to an assassination.

[ Jacob makes a face throughout Wen Kexing's assessment. Hes right unfortunately, which is the unpleasant fact they have to face.]

I suppose we can't all be on the same team.

[ A shrug and another swallow of beer.]

Then we focus those that we think are inclined to vote our way, and ensure it. If there's only a few other outsiders we can count on, then we use them.

What do you think?

We could try. It may require more than either of us have to give. We might not strike it quite as lucky as we did with our friend.

( But! He is willing to try. )

If it were up to me I'd set the whole undead camp on fire. ( Another sip of his wine, Wen Kexing's sudden viciousness more of an unhappy grumbling than anything else. ) You think containing something means it is better controlled, but no. Better to annihilate it.

( He is, quite possibly, reconsidering his entire Ghost Valley plan. ) 3

Speak for yourself.

[Dying isn't preferable, of course it isn't. But Jacob's had to face the possibility of dying in service of the Creed every day of his life, and he's well aware at some point his luck will run out. If it runs out here, saving these people, is it any different if it runs out in London?]

Why can't we? Burn it all down? They'd probably go up like a dry barn.

I don't exactly want to become an enemy of the state.

( Also he is a very self-serving creature. )

Encouraging people to take their own action is all well and good, but their survival has not much else to do with me.

I suppose your patron probably wouldn't like that. I don't have those concerns, so... if that's an option.

[He'll leave it there, on the table.]

If it's all the same to you, I should be going. Early bird catches the worm, and I want to know what the rumours about all this will be. I'll be in touch if it's something worth knowing.

Try not to get yourself set on fire again, Master Frye. It would be unfortunate to have you out of action.

( And then, a cheerful grin, the flash of teeth as he takes another step away to open the door to his office. )

Or did you want to use the window again?

It wasmt me that set that fire.

[ It rarely is. But unfortunately Jacob has an association with fire that will not end here.]

Better use the window. Could be people watching the door, they'd be surprised they didn't see me go in.

They'd probably assume you were so sex-drunk that you'd merely forgotten to put your disguise back on.

( Because people come here in certain clothing and leave in significantly less more often than not. It wouldn't be surprising. But he waves Jacob off either way, half stepping through the door himself. )

I'll let you see yourself out then.

[ Jacob nods, patting the other man companionably on the shoulder before making his exit.]

Don't stay up too long Wenny.

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