Old October 14, 2010, 05:06 PM   #1 (permalink)
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He's Out of Your League [Private, Ragz]

Autumn, Junctior XXVIII, ERA XVII PF

Democracy. Oh, Democracy. Merely pronouncing the world touched at the hearts of many Eunesians, be they from Olympia, Secyclion, or wherever else that didn't really matter. As far as this particular Secyclid could care, the only thing that currently held any sort of weight in mind was the recent state of affairs. Ever since the scandalous scandal (which shall go unnamed and unmentioned) of the 'retired' Thane, Charon Von Dimosthenis, much of the city had been torn between the disgraced fellow and another potentially more powerful player in the game of statecraft, Baron Ajax Xanthos. The split was something of a troubling matter, with neither side really caring to give any leeway. Either you were a firm traditionalist and supporter of the dishonored Count (often from Toichos), or you were a sympathizer of the Baron (oppositely from Arthro Galanos). Or you were one of those fortunate individuals who were caught in between (from Neos Megalis). A right fine mess, one might have said.

And what ended such debates, such scuffles: the impasse of opinions? Well, it was really difficult to say. The political situation's unraveling had only tumbled into more bitter struggle, boiling down to more draws of thought. Someone, or something, needed to tip the balance. Who, or what this would take the form of was up to anyone's guess, as for now the prospect of a Thane taking the thresh hold once more seemed far from the present. Naturally, there were ways of helping. Small pushes and nudges towards a certain end. While each side would inevitably be throwing their full weight towards a desired end, the smallest and subtlest additions of power could in fact throw the balance. Such was the potential of the current affair, and that was the idea which had begun to brew in the mind of a particular young noble who claimed familial tie to one of the most powerful (and rich) men in Secyclion.

It was one of the most opportunity bloated ideas he'd ever constructed, and after much careful deliberation, seemed quite.. possible. The city had always stressed its desire for nobility to enter into civil services, and it was the highest form of civil service which governed over the city. What better chance was there to pursue, and press a goal than to be apart of this organization? Unfortunate as it was, the current League of Secyclionia was full to the brim of its prideful and nationalistic members, but this was nothing but an obstacle. There was possibility, fortune, and a hand of considerable influence that the hot-blooded youth could call upon. It only took a few sufficiently powerful words to cause even some of the most steely minds of the city to balk and retreat, and there were more than enough lesser links that could be preyed upon. Of course, all of this was mere speculation and wild ambition in its base form. A cloud of eager (likely power-mongering) fruit of an unrestrained mind. But Drakon had thought upon it enough that he had requested an audience with the man with the tools to make it happen, Ajax.

"Chairete." Drako extended his greeting to the secretary whom long since briefed most of those who sought a moment of his senior's time. Much of his time was called upon by business, the multitude of companies he owned, and other starry-eyed entrepreneurs whom suggested deals, pacts, and all which could line their pockets that much more. "I have a query, if I'm not disturbing your work. When would adelphos be finished his next errand?" Drakon looked up once, as if to scan the surrounding area with his eyes, before referring back down. "I have a matter that is partially urgent to be discussed."
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Old October 22, 2010, 05:24 AM   #2 (permalink)
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The secretary was a charming, lithe creature, reminding Drakon no less of a wide-eyed doe who perhaps found her life made when the Baron himself decided to hire her to be one of his numerous personal assistants. An aspiring politician herself, she was sharp of mind, though the curse was that she was a woman born in Secyclion, and traditions and social expectations was her greatest obstacle in her realization of her dreams.

"The Baron...-" She replied, her sentence cut short by the creaking sounds of the doors being swung open.

The doors to the Baron's office opened as the familiar visage of his brother emerged from behind those large dark Ariosian wood, accompanied by two fair skinned Mainlanders. They both sprouted dark hair and light colored eyes, and were dressed impeccably from head to toe. The woman was at least two decades younger than the elderly man, clearly quite overwhelmed by the magnitude of the discussions that were taken place in the room before.

"Adelphos, ah, fortuitous timing. This is Master Remington of the House of Praeserta, Kaldira. And this is his lovely wife, Lady Lorena. And this is my brother, Drakon Xanthos." The Baron Xanthos obviously quite surprised

"I look forward to our next meeting then, Baron Xanthos." The elder Carmelyan murmured with a polite tone, casting an eye towards the younger Xanthos with a nod of acknowledgement, seeming ready to stretch out a hand to formally greet the man, though seeming to catch himself as he remembered that Eunesians did not shake hands.

"Farewell and Chairete, Baron Xanthos, and to you too Lord Xanthos." The charming wife curtsied as she practically beamed at the Baron, much to the discontent of her husband, who was casting eyes between the two, yet all he got from the Eunesian was the charming smile of innocence. Once again, it seems that his elder brother's charms had potentially devastating effects. After motioning for his secretary to show the two guests the way out, the Baron then resumed his gaze back onto his sibling as he smirked, clearly in good spirits. The previous meeting had likely netted House Xanthos another good deal that would fatten their already large coffers.

"Well, well, adelphos, what winds bring you to my offices this Brightening? I don't assume it is a simple social call?" The Baron ushered his younger brother into his office as he pulled the doors shut, gesturing to the bottle of prized Ouzo that was placed on the table, indicating that Drakon should pour himself a glass while freshen his brother's one up.

Outside, the autumnal showers fell like a dream around the Arthro Galanos, so that the buildings glowed with a soft, lurid blue that often only did so during the Darkening when the air was much more moist.

It was a beautiful Brightening to talk business.
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Old October 22, 2010, 03:20 PM   #3 (permalink)
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Lives had been constructed (and demolished!) at the whim and fancy of nobility, and this particular woman was a symbol of positive result. Her life, and very well career might have been made just by being hand-picked by what was likely the richest man in Secyclion. Of course, a more cynical portion of his mind suggested that Ajax would not have selected this woman in some random fluke of charity. Undoubtedly, there was some other inspiration behind it. Likely, that same inspiration also played a due part in all the other lovely women his senior had as aides and assistants. When you were wealthy enough, it was a viable option, and one his adelphos seemed to regularly indulge in. If for mere amusement's sake or otherwise. Still, he kept his manners and polite attitude about the more recognizable faces of the estate's administration. There was no cause to be condescending, after all. If any of them had a brain, they'd likely figured out the situation and were using it to their advantage.

And, just as the woman had begun to explain the details of what would most inevitably a delayed appointment, both her words (and his thoughts) were interrupted by the creaking of the doors leading into Baron Xanthos' personally study/office. They were large, imposing pieces of wood. Quite expensive, and a definite indication of the depth of the Xanthos' pockets, as well as the power and prestige that they held. Subtle impressions could do very well and were just as nice, but sometimes a direct notification of the true breadth of the host's grasp were just as effective, if not more. Regardless, a smile (a mix between a formal gesture, and genuine pleasure) spread across his lips at the sight of his brother and the following entourage. Drakon gave a curt nod of the head as immediate greeting to the two foreigners, as well as his brother. While he hadn't intended to exactly sneak up on the party, he apparently had, at least from the sound of Ajax's voice. "A pleasure to you make your acquaintance." Drakon smoothly interjected in between the introductions, fit with that political smile. While he would have very well been reasonably interested in meeting and understanding the finer details of both Master Remington and his wife's reason of business, they were leaving, and he had business as well.

With due place in mind, he merely stood off to the side and bid farewell to the couple with the required gestures. Oh, and he caught that little over-the-top gleam in the eyes of Lady Lorena, directed straight at his suave older sibling. The man knew how to pour charisma on like it was some sort of palpable syrup, sweetening all of those around him and drawing many in to the appealing flow. Yet, that could be dangerous as well. Remington had not entirely missed that amorous glance, and the colors of emotion painted on his face were nothing of amusement or joy. Turning to his brother with a glance that almost questioned 'even her?', a entirely well humored smile followed suit, and he shook his head in disbelief. He said nothing on the matter, merely for the sake of the lack of current privacy, instead allowing himself to be brought into the office. It was a rather beautiful room, set well, and impressed upon its guests the strength of the surroundings.

"While I do take immense elation out of our everyday conversations, you are correct in your deduction, brother." The Secyclid noble did take his senior up on the offer, clasping the glass in hand whilst pouring a moderate portion of the likely high-quality wine. As if he were waiting, perhaps concerned that even in the close quarters and privacy of the office, one might hear them, Drakon paused. After a few more seconds had passed, he took upon a serious expression. "I believe I would be right in stating that we both know very well the current situation that our beloved Secyclion lies upon, the thin bed of The League and its cohorts. Moreover, I would go on to say that I might very well be on point in presuming that this civil limbo our nation-state lies in is no kind saddle to either the mount or rider." A little smile of jest at that metaphor, before he continued on. "If you would indulge me, brother, I have had a recent revelation. An idea." A sip of the wine. "It is frank and fact to say that House Xanthos has never been as powerful and esteemed as it has under you, adelphos. Only your skills brought us this far, and I am fully confident they will drive us that much farther. But, why stop there, brother? If I may be so bold, House Xanthos should not wait and bide its time. If this disastrous power vacuum continues, the League could do something radical, the people could rise up. We could have a civil war. Secyclion would become the embarrassment of Eunesia." For all his dire predictions, Drakon chose to pause there.

"I would say no. I would not allow tragedy and strife to peel our nation of its dignity and pride, I would not permit the failures of our League to cripple us. I would make a stand, and make a difference. Brother, you are a man of reverence, but I am nothing. With your genius, I could be made into something so much more. In its weakened state, The League reaches out for leadership, for a more vigorous approach. It requires fresh blood, and new hands to take accord. And, we, you and I, should be the two to take the reins of our flailing country." What had likely been a tasking monologue was ended, and Drako took a drink from the wine to wet his throat. "What say you, adelphos?"
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Old October 31, 2010, 04:44 PM   #4 (permalink)
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"You know I have no interest in the politics of our realm." Ajax murmured thoughtfully, and indeed, Drakon's elder brother had always seemed to dissociate from the intricate politics of the island, even though he wrought an invisible influence. The choice candidate for the Thane, his constant refusal to take the position, almost an Era after the Charon had been deposed showed his promise that he had no inkling of a notion to assume that position.

Knowing Ajax and his mind, it would be more favorable if there was someone in power that he could influence without having to deal with the heat and pressure that would encumber his life.

"I shall, however, allow a meeting with you with Symboliandras Penekrates. You'll remember him, from the dinner hosted in the honor of your return from Olympia." There was a vague tone in his voice as if he was warding for eavesdroppers that may be present, one could never be to certain about things and issues like that -- and out of all of the descendants of the Secyclids, Ajax Xanthos was one of the shrewdest and most calculating and cautious. After all, one did not rise to become one of the most powerful man in Eunesia by being careless.

"I've heard that poor health has ailed him for months now, and perhaps a new Symboliandras may be in order to best represent Arthro Galanos' interests." It was a curse, that being of high nobility ensured that even amongst their relationship, politics had a very real place in their life. His eyes indicated that he wished for Drakon to attempt to unseat the elderly Eunesian from his seat by his own means, be it coercion or persuasion.

Drakon would remember the elder Councilmen, who was largely ineffectual due to old age. He was a simpering fool who should have retired long ago, but there was no one to replace him. He wasn't bedridden by any chance, but from his brother's purposeful choice of words, it was clear that it was the Baron's wish that the position within the League be replaced by someone such as Drakon.

"Quite coincidentally, I have invited him to our Manor this Brightening to discuss business, it would be fortuitous if you would attend with me." He murmured thoughtfully, stroking a finger across his hairless chin as he shifted his gaze over at his sibling.

.sorry for the crap post >.>
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Old November 2, 2010, 03:26 PM   #5 (permalink)
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His brother's frank answer of his opinion of politics was naturally very unsurprising. The man was a born entrepreneur, one made for the higher things in the merchant kingdoms. And, as of yet, he was already ruling over the monarchy of the Secyclid trade. Regardless, Drakon was not off-put, and was prepared to press as much as was required to convince his brother of the necessity to act and capitalize. The fear of someone or something interrupting was high in his mind already, and while he took a great risk in saying the things he had, there was an even greater danger at biding time. It did reveal some of his more opportunistic qualities, this was admitted. But his education had been no mistake, and of the things he'd learned (amongst other shrewd techniques) was to never leave a proverbial door open for too long. Otherwise it might shut, and the chance would be forever lost.

Drako, however, knew that his brother would see advantages to the offer posed. His brother would think it a high boon to have someone he could directly influence and 'control', to sway the markets in his favor, to curtail annoying political nuisances. Why not have a member of his own caste on the governing council? Another voting for the Xanthos House, arguing for the city's benefits, ever-provided by their own lineage. He hoped, nay, prayed that this would swing his adelphos' opinion towards the greater choices. They had lain dormant and subservient to Charon and his body of repulsive sycophants for long enough, and now they were being dominated and dragged backwards by a bunch of windbags clothed in robes and filled with blustering criticisms and competition. The new generation had very well arrived.

It would have been hard to describe in short wording the surge of pure glee which rushed about his body as he heard his brother provide permission to see to a member of their ah, beloved League. His senior was still as clear and properly minded as ever! It was only now a matter of seeing to that precious event, carefully choosing his words, impressing the necessity of matters.. There had to be some method of convincing any of the seats. Most of them would have settled for a hefty retirement fund alone, or some sort of benefit that was long-lasting enough to convince them to keep their mouths shut and to disappear into the hedonism induced portions of their city. Penekrates? The name did spark a flint of reminiscence, perhaps something read, or a word overheard in the past.. Ah! Yes. Drakon quickly nodded following Ajax's reminder, his excitement quite present in the new glimmer that seemed to have formed in his eyes. This younger sibling, although not as refined and matured at his older brother, had no shortage of raw aspiration backing his motives and intents. There was almost a dangerous amount of energy in those eyes, a sort of reckless force ready to be unleashed. The only thing chaining it down as of yet was the reminded need for tact, patience, and planning.

Penekrates would not require much, at least, this was what he assumed. The older Secyclid was quickly approaching an end to his partially glamorous existence, and as soon as he passed, a void would need to be filled. If that happened, anyone could very well try and elect themselves, and that would fold into a display of chaos and management issues. Neither Drakon, nor his brother, he thought, cared to have to win a spot on the League the fair and straight forward way. When there was a potential to enchant the older man with charm, subtly insert a few hints, and then perhaps make a 'kindly' offer at the right moment. Force was too much of a gambit, and could end in a messy way. Diplomacy would be the key factor here. Grinning elatedly, the younger of the two clasped his hands together. "Fortuitous indeed. I would adore an opportunity to meet with the Symboliandras. A man of his history deserves recognition for service." Rising from his seat, perhaps in a rush to prepare, Drako cast a last highly pleased glance to his senior. "I shall go prepare for the occasion. I look forwards to meeting our esteemed guest." With that, and a bow of deference, Drako began to make his exit.
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Old November 10, 2010, 09:19 AM   #6 (permalink)
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At the anointed time, a young male serf was tasked to inform Drakon that their guest had arrived and was settling down by the patio overlooking the bay -- one of the more scenic spots on the Manor reserved for a modicum of privacy; for nothing was truly ever secret and private on the Isles, where news, rumors, be it falsified or had any truth in it traveled like a the wild surfs of Markalin -- swift, and often deadly.

The elder Councilmen seemed ill at ease at being in the presence of the richest man on Secyclion, perhaps not understanding the true intent of why he was being summoned this Brightening. There were after all, few who would dare reject such a very direct invitation from the Baron -- such acts would prove to be disastrous for their political careers, whether or not they liked it.

Food was laid out in typical Eunesian fashion, with a variety of fruits draping an hanging on from one large table laid with a silk cloth. There were a decadent amount of meat, traditional Secyclion eats and bottles of wine laid out to tantalize every senses on the tongue -- it was designed for a feast, not a simple gathering. Then again, Ajax's mannerism of handling his guests had always been to impress, indulge and lastly, it all else failed intimidate.

They were sitting on two of the traditional chairs that Eunesians used, with their curved stands and wide base, with an empty chair set aside, presumably for their latest arrival when he did.

"Symboliandras Penekrates, you'll remember my adelphos, do you not? Drakon, meet Symboliandras Penekrates." Ajax did not stand as Drakon approached, merely gesturing his younger brother to come forward as he waved away the serf that had escorted the young master to the private gathering.

An uneasy smile fleeted across the elder Secyclionian's face as he stood up and moved into position to greet Drakon the traditional way. The palms of his hands were shaky and clammy and his eyes were indistinct and distracted, seeming surprised by the turn of events, almost ready to speak up, but instead chose to keep his thoughts to himself.

"Of course I do, Chairete, Drakon. How goes your adaption since being home?" Drakon's prodigious return had of course created quite a stir amongst the elites of the Red Isles, mainly because of his heritage and credible reputation for simply being a Xanthos. It won't be long before tongues start to wag as to his aspirations in the future, and the mate he would take or not.

Whether he liked it or not, being associated to one of the most powerful men on Secyclion meant that his every step was watched, analyzed and criticized.
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Old November 14, 2010, 03:13 PM   #7 (permalink)
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When the Serf arrived to beckon him to the patio, he was quite nearly prepared for the occasion. Instead of dressing in a particularly impressive manner, he had chosen to be a deliberate moderate between two worlds. Instead of being overbearing in cloth, he had struck up instead an acceptable feyanella, with a sharp aqua blue color to match it, and his attire in whole. The single piece of jewelry most often wore, the medallion which revealed his house and the affluence it held, was strung about his neck. This time, he had chosen to accompany it with a pair of shimmering bracelets which clung tightly to his wrists and forearm. It was nothing meant to intimidate, because after all, he was to attempt diplomacy and sly wordplay if at all possible. Unhinging the Symboliandras was an endeavor which would best be performed with tact. If it were a mutual agreement, and a consent on his part, then it would be so much easier for the both of them! Drakon would be unhindered with political liabilities, and the older man could retire with enough crowns to pay for his steep medical bills, and give inheritance to any other relatives who were still alive.

Soon after adding the finishing touches, Drakon allowed himself to be escorted to the patio itself. As usual, it was nothing to scoff at. Laid out in a manner in which only lords and nobility could appreciate, the pure essence of the meal impressed upon the guest the affluence and prowess of the host. Only a fool would find reason to disrespect any individual whom could produce such a result so effortlessly. It seemed almost regular for Ajax to unveil such things. Even without a party of the highest society, feasts which could feed dozens were prepared for a scant handful. He quite honestly doubted that their honored guest would be eating much, if only for his condition, and the notable discomfort in which he sat. It was clear from his posture and body language alone that he was offput, uneasy in the face of so much lavish and good faith. Drako might have considered it a slight affront to not truly appreciate all they had prepared for him on any other occasion. But for this one, he would keep his manners about him.

"Ah, Symboliandras Penekrates!" The tone of the young noble was absolutely ecstatic, as if he were encountering a highly idolized icon. "Chairete! It is such an infinite pleasure to see you able to attend." Instead of taking any note of the older man's surprise, and further lack of happiness over the turn of events, Drako chose to avoid it completely. He met the elder in the traditional greeting, privately repulsed by the iciness of their guest's hands, and how they actually shook. Was he so unnerved? It would take some time to lower all that apprehension. But then again, oh, how he could use that fear and lack of adaptability.. But no, no no. He would not be vicious in this affair. Politeness, respect, and a note or two of deference would be all that was required. "Far better than I could have possibly predicted. You do myself a great honor in appearing before us, I have long wished to see the example of a truly dedicated civil leader." The smile on his face was absolutely 'genuine' (although Ajax might have been able to see past it. "It can hardly be argued that you are that. Please, sit. I would not ask you to overtax yourself for my account." Drakon almost led the man back to his seat, so full of reverence and courtesy was he.

As soon as the young nobleman had seated himself, he set into an amiable stance, giving a smile of due notice to his older brother. Soon after, he returned the attention to the uncomfortable man once more. "So, kyrio Penekrates, if you would allow me to query, how are political matters for a man of such high esteem as yourself?"
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Old December 7, 2010, 02:53 AM   #8 (permalink)
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Drakon's amicable demeanor did little to sooth the elder Eunesian's nerves, instead, doing the opposite and seeming to make him more nervous, given his furtive glances to his sides, a natural human instinct when threatened, as if attempting to locate the nearest exit or escape if ever required.

"You flatter me, Kyrio Xanthos. It is my privilege to be able to serve the people." He was threading cautiously, using the spoon-fed party line even if everyone present knew that it was never so simple. A political office in Secyclion represented a voice and a vote, and bore great honor and respect for their family. Ajax's empire mirrored those of the Ieffreonian merchants, who also wrought the greatest political clout in the White Island of Eunesia. Now with his finances firmly secured, he was now eyeing the political seats within the City.

Some families took lifetimes to establish their empire, the Xanthos took only one.

Sitting as the offer was extended, the elder Eunesian eyed Drakon in a manner most suspicious -- Eunesians were known to be an effusive lot, and such display of emotions were not considered offensive, merely the manner in which they interacted with one another. The Councilman had displayed distrust, and it was up to the Xanthos brothers, specifically Drakon to alleviate his anxiety.

A cursory glance from Ajax indicated to the younger Xanthos that Ajax was deign to play the role of a supporter in this round, interjecting only when needed. In short, it was a test that the elder had planted upon his junior, to watch and access if he was indeed ready for office and that he had the ability to back his previous claims.

"What specific areas of politics are you inquiring about, Kyrio Xanthos?" He was purposefully evading the rather general question, avoiding answering too much, but at the same time forcing Drakon to commit to his question so that the elder Councilman could find out the intent of his line of questioning.

This was after all, a serving politician in one of Eunesia's oldest form of governance, and it seemed the man wasn't such a doddering idiot after all.
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Old December 30, 2010, 02:28 PM   #9 (permalink)
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It was unfortunate that the display of assurance did little to calm the man's nerves. Then again, it was unlikely that there would have been any sufficient line which would have dispersed any thought of trickery or surprise. It was a double-edged sword, their Secyclid political world. As filled as it was with intrigue, it was rather difficult to win over any man's complete trust. After all, everyone had their own minor agendas to put into play, some far more ambitious than others. In a more romanticized realm of view, that would have fit well into the glove of his own plans. But, they were hardly on that pedestal yet. One step at a time would need to be climbed, and the best rewards were those slow in the making.

The blank slate of a reply that the Symboliandras provided only brought on an easy, and well practiced smile. It was a social mask intended to work the ploy just as much as dabble into that art of fine intent. As long as he could manage to keep some manner of inconspicuous air towards the desired outcome, there might be a fragmented opportunity to try to derive some honesty or weakness from the old man. Still, it was likely to be no easy chase or catch. He likely had a suitable defense mechanism available for whenever he felt attacked, and there was always the rare risk of his attempted departure. As much of a raw insult it would have been to the Xanthos household to try to escape a invitation, it might just have been within Penekrates' arsenal.

"Hardly just that, honored Symboliandras. Any man who could earn the respect and trust of so many people is to be awed." There was a moment of a pause, and an almost boyish thrall to his expression and tone developed. "I've always been ever so dedicated to learning as much as I could to help the city," There was that palpable tint of childhood ambition in that quip, almost innocent in its vulnerability, "and there ought be no better opportunity to glean the slightest bit of knowledge than from a seasoned veteran such as yourself, ne?" In his newly seated position, he hunched his elbows forth on the edge of the table and leaned in, eyes gleaming with a sort of open-ended rapture. How could this youth, who so clearly idolized the man mean any sort of harm?

Well, perhaps Ajax knew better.

As to the politician's follow up, Drakon did take a deliberate moment of thought, as if rolling the question around in his mind. "Perhaps just the decisions you yourself might be involved in? I imagine you wield much Dúnamis in the League, but if there would be any acute current events.." The youth allowed the statement to trail off deliberately, eyes glued to the older man, hardly blinking. It was clear enough that he wasn't about to let the senior politican escape from the question, as raptor-eyed as his gaze was. While his words might not have yet held any of the raw power or intimidation prowess that his adelphos' rhetorica did, he was voracious to learn such tactics. He wouldn't be much help to the household if he couldn't learn to make himself useful, after all.
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Old January 14, 2011, 02:48 AM   #10 (permalink)
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By now the Councilman was rapidly realizing that this was more than a simple social call. His upright and rigid posture reveals his threatened position, and Drakon's practiced and poised smile did nothing to allay his unease; in fact seeming to draw him deeper into discomfiture. This was a senior politician who was used to be the nuances and basics of Secyclion politics and could recognize instantly when he was being used, or the lead up to it.

"I take it then, you wish to venture into the political Governance of the City as part of your civic duty. Good choice, Kyrio Xanthos. New blood are always welcome." A small lie, of course, given how the Councilmen horde their position almost to the point of open nepotism in some, and others had tried, unsuccessfully for Eras to simply garner an audience such as this transpiring in the Manor of the Baron Xathos.

Whoever said power was not addictive had never truly experienced it.

Penekrates, sensing that there was little way but to comply with the question slowly cleared his throat while he finally reached for the goblet of watered wine, taking a large gulp before continuing.

"Personally I have cast the vote to outlaw the Trelochaae completely from our Shores and beyond," Drakon would be familiar with the Trelochaae, one of the more primal forms of the Secyclionian Mysteries, with rituals and concepts that would be considered even radical this Brightening and age.

The cult had incited a widespread riot during the last Festival of Love, causing property damage, injuries and in some cases, death. While Secyclion was self-reliant in most cases, the tourism boom in the recent Eras had seen greater revenue flowing into the pockets of the lower-class citizenry, as well as much more upgrades and improvements being committed towards the public amenities.

Such acts of atrocity by the Trelochaae only served to undermine the political stability of Secyclion, and thus affecting the flow of tourists in and out of the City.

"At the same time, I have also insured Arthro Galanos' stance of not reinstating our former Thane against the other Symboliandras of the Toichois Kikkimos district, who remain firmly loyal to the Count."
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Old January 14, 2011, 07:31 PM   #11 (permalink)
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If eyes could have pinned and kept an opponent from weaseling away from an overly intricate question, Drakon was making a very good go at an attempt of it. The young noble was very nearly leaned over a fair distance of the table in his nigh-outright gaze. While his voice might have (emphasis on the might) dissuaded the from the very fact that his stance was absolutely taut and composed dangerously, those eyes were the very ventures of the Eunesian's soul. And, as Penekrates might have been able to see, the home team was most definitely focused on its quarry. It was unfortunate that in regards to their seniority in the craft, the Symboliandras could pick through his guise of modest admissions and the boyish demeanor. In a fantastical world, he would have enjoyed to play the role to whatever fruits it might have had to bear, but Penekrates was no fool. As old and feeble as he was, there were yet a few crowns flicking about the politician's head, and he made use of them. Admirable, in a sense, the resistance he was putting up. However, in the same instant, there were openings. Openings that Drakon intended fully to exploit.

Uncoiling from his especially rapt pose, the youthful Secyclid's eyes rolled to his brother for a moment before returning to the Symboliandras as the most recent events were unfolded. Penekrates' guess was hardly off the mark, but perhaps by bringing the matter to the forefront the man had made a mistake. While it had certainly dashed the need for foreplay of the sort of social musings, now there was poised the task of rounding the topic to an appropriate ends. That gulp of wine, gorged as if it were some precious hydrating resource drew a watchful eye. It was no act born of a cool-headed politician amidst foes, no. It epitomized the unfortunate victim caught amongst lions, faced in their den, with only feeble mewls to protect itself. There was a brief wonder which crossed his mind, then. Perhaps in his heyday, Penekrates would have been as able in the degree of verbal fencing to manage his way out of this particular trap. Oh, it would have been a treat to see a true opponent. A small, amicably amused smile made its way onto the lips of the co-host, before that faded in wake of the mention of the Trelochaae. Ah, yes. The would-be anarchists and incredulously minded cultists whom had managed to cause a truly remarkable amount of damage, and even incite a riot on a day which was usually considered sacred (for perhaps the morally erred reasons, but Drakon was no Secyclid to judge).

"Truly, the step can be admired, Symboliandras. It saddens me, that in our day, we find ourselves so enfeebled against threats which seemingly rise up from the mass to strike at us. While they cause only superficial damage, the small bites and nibbles of those who we would view as villain and enemy alike only increase their hubris." Drakon's tone, for a moment, was truly venomous and legitimate of its intense dislike. The aspiring noble saw a fairly easy face to hate in those whom would oppose their nation with such ridiculous acts, but also in the administration which had failed to predict or halt the devastation before it had effectively snowballed out of control.

"We are in the need of those willing to come forth and suggest action." Outlawing the Trecholaae was indeed, a step, but it was not the full yard that should have been covered. 'Outlawed'? Surely, no group of radical cultists were about to heed a legal act forbidding their presence, or at the very least not take it kindly. No, rabid violence could only be diverted and made submissive through a show of power which would find it docile. They had taken very well the initiative to strike, and now that the preemptive was done, Secyclion merely intended to sit and talk about banning it? "And, I believe I can speak for many of us when I say I am greatly relaxed by your wise decisions. Decisions which, I might add, can be very taxing." A sympathetic face then passed over Drakon's expression, as his words slowly meandered into the realm of sympathy. "Honoured Symboliandras, out of all of us who have worked so hard and so tirelessly, your presence is a banner in which we may flock for vestige. Your veteran's eye and experience at the craft is undoubtedly an impressive device in these troubled times. However, I admit a certain concern for yourself. Like any individual of so many years, there must be an innumerable amount of problems merely waiting, hitched behind and ready to snap at the most unfortunate time. The stresses of office are a troubling thing, and I would confess a certain melancholy at the prospect of such a fate befalling any member of our League." The noble took a few moments to lift his own cup, a measured sip derived from the bittersweet wine. He took his time to allow those words to sink in, and all of their vague and yet so demanding meanings to take root.

"Thus.. And it just so happens that, It might be within the Xanthos House's ability to ensure that a more accommodating existence would be available to any esteemed example of our political prowess." The smile that notched on the end of his sentence was something which was most definitely a thinly veiled example of a hint.
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Old February 6, 2011, 06:46 AM   #12 (permalink)
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When flattery no longer worked, Drakon began his verbal challenge in a much more aggressive manner, comforted by the betrayal of Penekrates' not so subtle body gestures to reveal his innermost discomfiture.

While Drakon continued his offense, his brother merely watched, smiled and nodded knowingly, as if to reaffirm his brother's observations. Penekrates would realize only too late that he was but one of the first stepping stone to the Xanthos brothers to their own aims and machinations for the future. While Ajax had plainly made it clear that he had no greater aspiration into the political system of Secyclion, it has been made even more vivid that such aspirations were not shared by his younger brother.

This did not mean that Ajax however, was unfamiliar with the rules of politics, because running a business enterprise, in many ways, was not dissimilar to running a City. Unknown to Drakon, this was very much a test by his elder to judge if the junior Xanthos had the ability to back up his own calling, and in many ways garnering the quiet approval of Ajax Xanthos as Drakon superbly weaved the words and forced Penekrates into a corner.

The unsuspecting Councilman, even if he did ward himself cautiously, found his own situation precarious and he was all too hapless to save himself.

"I thank you for your concerns, Kyrio. I will be sure to convey your wise words to the League when we convene, perhaps it will even be better if you would attend a session at the Court..." One last attempt to salvage his rapidly deteriorating advantage as a senior official of the City as the elder Eunesian threw out the suggestion that would reverse their current roles, having the younger Drakon speak publicly at the Court of Rams and to be slowly and meticulously picked apart by the other members of the League. Penekrates was playing the oldest game of numbers, wallowing in empty comfort amongst his peers.

It was Drakon's last sentence though, that eventually sealed the purpose of this Brightening's meeting, and a man like Penekrates would know when he was licked. Taking a sip of his wine, with a mixed gesture of seeming resign, he turned a cautious eye towards the Xanthos finally, swallowing gingerly.

"What... are you, proposing then, Kyrio?" The elder Councilman murmured warily, understanding that Drakon had somehow maneuverer him into a situation where he had to reaffirm his position once and for all without being able to find safety upon sitting on the fence. His wizened features seemed to harden slightly, though his smile continued to be stiffly polite.
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Old February 7, 2011, 09:58 PM   #13 (permalink)
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Ah, how the mighty had fallen. The translucent nature of the one great Symboliandras' suggestion at having him actually attempt a speech in front of the entire political body of Secyclion? He might as well have slit his own throat in front of them for as good as that little ploy would have taken him. Hah! Invite the entirety of the city's high life and movers-and-shakers to destroy another. While it might have worked on some more optimistic, or perhaps narrow-minded politician, Drakon was no such fool, and nor did he have any intent on appearing before the League before he was one of them. And if there was anything to be said about this current objective, it was that he would not be dissuaded, regardless of any attempt the official across from the table might have attempted to formulate in regards to saving what remained of his disemboweled political spectrum. If it had been any other situation, he might have truly placed a hand of sympathy on the older man's shoulder. But if it was a fight to be brought to the war of words, he was more than up to the task.

Reclining back in his chair, he briefly cast a glance in Ajax's direction (if for more than anything else, to demoralize Penekrates further), before swinging his head back towards the older man. He took a moment to collect his hands, pining his fingers in a makeshift point. How would he put this delicately? There was hardly any way he could go about this without writing a warrant which would effectively end the unfortunate part of the evening. Drakon rather wished to cease the poor man's anxiety and scurrying about, but to put him into the arms of comfort once more. The poor portion of the situation was that ruthlessness was a necessity to achieve this aim. Ah, well, the ends did justify the means, did they not? A cliché to be applied, but sometimes the most effective excuses were the simplest.

"Allow me to paint the picture more vividly, honoured kyrio. I am suggesting a very plausible chain of events, one in which the story of a someone ends in a happier manner than a depressing one." He drew a circle in the air, as if to indicate the meeting of a conclusion. "I am suggesting that any particular man of a wise mind, and a stoat heart would see that there is an availability, a position, shall we say." A thin smile. "Where, instead of living out the final twilight hours of his life, riddled with economic and health problems he cannot solve, unable to be helped by the men and women he once called friends, and living a very sordid and unhappy existence." Drakon's mouth twitched, "Alone." Placing his palms on the surface of the table, he leaned in once more. "No one deserves such a fate. And I would vow that our House would prevent a miserable tragedy from occurring. I think my brother can agree with me on that." He nodded once, firmly.

"Benefits, social placing, and money take one very far, Symboliandras. Very far. Farther into life, a prolonged existence, and a happy one." There was that smile again, full of life and the vigour of youth, an appropriately superficial expression. "So what do you say, Kyrio Penekrates?" For the first time, he addressed him as merely that, his name. No special status, no honourifics, merely Penekrates. It was a position which would brook no fence-sitting. No neutrality. Either he was with them, or against them. To go with them was an existence of prosperity, to go against them.. well, many might have had ideas about the consequences of displeasing the House of a Trade Prince.
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Old February 21, 2011, 05:54 AM   #14 (permalink)
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"You choose your words carefully, Kyrio Xanthos." The words that Drakon had just uttered seemed to have a rather sombering effect in the atmosphere. The elder Eunesian fidget once, revealing his further discomfiture. Drakon was playing a dangerous game, and he could not let the man call his bluff. True, the Xanthos wielded powerful economic clout on the Isle, yet should Penekrates chose to share the details of such information with his peers, or perhaps even make graver accusations on the Xanthos, it would severely damage the reputation of the Xanthos, no matter what manner of man Ajax was.

All Secyclionians after all, loved a good scandal, the deposing of their former Thane a stern reminder to the younger Xanthos.

"Yet I am certain you are not unfamiliar with the Secyclionian way, Kyrio." The elder Eunesian seemed ready to make his own stand now that Drakon had made his desires clear with a rather well-concealed but still effective threat.

"Riches and wealth are but transient things. Secyclionians are not vain creatures like the Olympians, neither are we as carefree as the Craetons. We yearn for a kind of intangible success -- to create a legacy that shall live on when we are no longer living."

"You wish for my seat upon the League. Such is not impossible. You are wise for starting with me." Such self-importance seemed a recurring theme within the Secyclionian politics. While the League had been created at first to abolish the inefficiency of the Prelacy that had ruled Secyclion so long ago, it seemed that the current system, while holding promises to the same ideals that were set up by the forefathers were essentially morally bankrupt and not much more efficient.

The senior Official shifted on his chair, seeming to gain more confidence now that he had sussed into the true purpose of this Brightening's meeting. It was always the 'not knowing' that was the most frustrating and the main aspect of making one uneasy. He turned towards the elder Xanthos, and then again to the younger one, to whom he directed the next statement to. His fingers reached for the wine goblet with more fervor than before and as he sipped the rich liquid, it was clear that the wheels of possibility spun within his head.

"Make me a deal then, Kyrio Xanthos. What is wealth and social standings to an old man like me? Make me a deal I cannot refuse." And so it seemed this one was shrewd, but the question was, "How shrewd?". He seemed unwilling to establish his true desire, yet was leaving it to be offered, perhaps in hope that the younger and more inexperienced Xanthos would suggest a deal that could perhaps exceed his own expectations. He was trying to figure out the kind of opponent he was dealing with without actually drawing fists.

It seemed the elder Penekrates wasn't as senile as rumors claimed him to be.
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Old February 21, 2011, 01:22 PM   #15 (permalink)
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In a sense, he was indeed walking the metaphorical tripwire of political intrigue. For all intents and purposes, Penekrates could just decide enough was enough and make his way out of this little arena of dabbling and offers. He could then blab on about the very deal Drakon had offered him, and oh, how many people would be so up in ropes about it. Of course, they would use their resources too to disgrace and otherwise disprove him, but it would turn into a mess. Penekrates would surely regret it more than he, but the factor was that he would still find something to remorse about that course of action. That was unacceptable. That needed to be avoided. So, the young Secyclid put on that cherished community smile that was flashed to so many of the citizens and tourist alike, intent on winning heart and mind with a social mask of optimism and friendliness.

"Let us both be fair and honest, Kyrio. We are both creatures of the same web of hubris and ego. We both weave or own little patterns and designs - as beautiful as they may be - but yet are only available to our eyes while we greedily store them away in our zone of interest. However, some of us are provided more room than others to build, and architects are not ones to be bound to simple areas of work. Such might finely hone an artist's skill, and allow them to improve and improve and improve yet.. But where are the eyes to admire its creation? Where are the observers to say 'Yes, this is truly great!'? They do not exist." The noble shifted in his seat, raising his palms as if he were preaching to a non-existent choir. "Instead, once in our life time we are provided a chance, usually by either the gods or mortals. We are shown a path that allows us to forge a truly great tapestry. Yet our arrogance makes us hesitate, forces us to be jealous of the work of others. It is unfortunate, no?" The smile on his face had turned viperous once more, shifted even in a dramatically short span of time.

But then, there was a pause, he took a sip from his wine, as if somewhat taxed by his monologue. "The deal I have to make for you, Kyrio is one that any man of your status must have once eyed. Yes, that apple in the eye of all politicians." Drakon spread his arms, as if he could illustrate such an item or concept with metaphysical connotations. "Like you said yourself, we wish to be remembered and live on when we are no longer living. It is an apt thing to note. But for myself, I can make it a reality. I can make the name 'Penekrates'," this name was said with a particular feathery illumination, "stamped across the pedestals of greatness." With this, he rose, and began to slowly stride about the table's confines, speaking with great enthusiasm. "When I ascend, nay, when your history as having sealed yourself in Secyclion for an aion more comes, the whole of Secyclion will forever realize that you were the man to create this. That you, and you alone opened the doors that were sealed shut by the paranoid, the afraid, the weak. You, Penekrates, were the man to refuse this conformation." With this, he approached the man's seat itself. "And I know you have something greater in mind. I know that you, against the opposition of all the League, wish not to see us doomed to the hounds of bureaucracy, but to flourish."

With this, he loomed over the man himself, a fire in his eyes, a torch long having burned. He extended a simple hand. "Take my hand, join me in this future. All it takes is that, Symboliandras. One gesture." His gaze was fierce, but not cruel or malicious. Indeed, he needed him not speak words, but merely clasp him as a comrade. Then, true to his promise, he would make it so. Perhaps not in the immediate, but soon. After all, what was a man who could not reward or keep a promise? It was his oath, and he would have signed it in blood if it were to satisfy the politician. Could the old man yet see what what might be in store for his name?
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