tampered | LOG; Ongoing

Current Mood: giggly

LOG; Ongoing

When; April 2nd, Late Evening
Rating; PG (you can never tell when naughtiness will happen over tea, after all)
Characters; H. Vetinari (

stylish_bastard) and Mirka Fortuna (

mirka_fortuna)
Summary; Vetinari's been hit with a lot of hard curses within a short period of time, laments his state (and has as close to a public temper tantrum as he's ever had). Mirka invites him for consolation-style tea, and he ~~stares in dumbfounded surprise at the Network message~~ accepts.
Log;

The Patrician made his way along the street with a slow and steady pace, leaning every so often on the cane and taking careful note of the ticking. It had been a point of interest for him immediately upon arrival, but he'd done nothing about it yet. In fact, he'd done nothing about anything, short of make himself look a fool in front of one of the Gods. Havelock frowned. It was something he'd not felt for a very long time, the sensation of not having even the vaguest possibility of the upper hand...

Ah, but that would change. He was older now, and wiser, but what he wouldn't do to have Vimes there. Rincewind really was nothing at all like Sir Samuel.

He broke out of his musing upon arrival outside the corresponding apartment door, and knocked three times, before stepping back and taking a deep breath.

Another thing he'd not felt for a very long time: the sensation that a meeting was not strictly business.

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The Duchess had been expecting him, and at the sound of the knocks she gave one of her servants an expectant smile. It wouldn't do for her to open the door herself, of course.

Her hands were calmly folded in her lap as she sat upright in her favourite armchair, waiting to greet him once he entered her apartment. There was no need for her to look into a mirror one last time to check her appearance; she might seem to be a young girl, especially when dressed as she was now, in a frilly dress cut in the Empire's style and with a pink ribbon in her long light-blonde hair, but she was no child to fret over her looks when she was perfectly confident in them. She looked, as befitted her position, regal.

The charming smile which always graced her face, no matter the situation, brightened even more as she looked with satisfaction over the décor of the room. It might not be as luxurious as her mansion at home, but it was elegant and imposing without being stifling. A most suitable place for her to receive her guest.

Especially when it was a distinguished guest who was well versed in politics. Someone whom Mirka might very well find to be a valuable ally. But first, she would need to get to know him better.

Never one to waste truly good oration, Vetinari nodded to the servant and stepped inside. He let his eyes wander across the furniture, and smiled faintly to himself. A room's interior design could tell much about the occupant, but in this case, the tyrant considered that the room told more about what she would have him believe.

There were no such women in Ankh-Morpork. He reminded himself firmly that he was not, currently, in Ankh-Morpork, and felt a twinge of amusement. He'd fallen into a habit, and he had worked so hard to avoid having those. At least he'd still kept to the habit of research, and he was most intrigued by the lady Fortuna.

"Good evening, your Grace."

"Good evening." she replied with a coquettish tilt of her head. She rose to her feet, naturally graceful, and offered him her hand. "I am so pleased you were able to accept my invitation." Her words had a pleasant, laughing intonation to them. She was used to sounding teasing even when being completely serious. It amused her to see people wonder whether to take what she said at face value or not.

"I do~ hope you are feeling in better sorts than earlier?" It was an honest inquiry, she disliked seeing people as disgruntled as Vetinari had seemed. Unless it suited her purposes, of course.

In any case, she was sure her company would be enough to make him feel more cheerful.

Lord Vetinari took her hand, apropos of deserved etiquette, and kissed the back of his thumb, (a full barrier of flesh and bone, of course, was the only truly polite way to kiss anything, and Vetinari had been a most attentive student of the classical arts.

He drew back to take note of her face, falling easily into the politician's examination of her words. Amused? Oh, it was very likely. He could tell just from looking at her that she was a woman accustomed to having her own way.

"I am, madam," He smiled thinly at the recollection of the tirade, which had not been fully appropriate, true enough, "It was most kind of you to extend your invitation as you did. I will try not to impose too greatly on your time."

Mirka definitely approved of his manners, more so as it was a rare case indeed in the City to find someone who knew how to conduct himself properly. "I am glad to hear you say so. While the City is very trying at times, one does become accustomed to it."

She noticed that he was observing her, something which she was used to back home, every word and gesture analysed by those around her. It almost made her nostalgic for the political intrigue which was a constant at the Empress's court. Her meeting with Lord Vetinari was promising more and more to be a very interesting one.

"Oh, you are not imposing at all~." She turned to show him the way into the room where they would be taking their tea. "If anything, I find myself often searching for ways to occupy my time. I'm used to being far busier than merely managing a household and dealing with whatever new curse the City decides to place on us."

((ooc: ugh, sorry for taking so long to tag, am a bit busy right now and it might take me a while to reply sometimes. Hope you don't mind backlogging a bit?))

He reflected that The City's curses were not entirely unlike being back home in Ankh-Morpork, where temporal paradoxes and rifts in space-time were commonplace, but he'd never before had to speak haiku, for the Gods' sakes. Still, it could be worked around, she was quite right.

His smile became genuine. Despite her very youthful appearance, something about her put him in the mind of Lady Margolotta; a woman either with wisdom beyond her years, or years beyond her appearance... or quite possibly both.

"Very good." He followed her at a respectful distance, shifting his grip on the cane to cradle it in the crook of one arm. He had no intentions of insulting her with the feeble elderly routine that so many seemed eager to see. Her second remark was met with more reflection, "I have been looking into the politics of this place with great interest; it would appear that the majority of individuals ascribe to no faction, although there are a great many more nonhumans than I am used to."

This was not strictly the truth, but nor was it entirely a lie: Vetinari's sort of nonhuman were dwarfs, or trolls, or, occasionally, Nobby. Some of the creatures he'd encountered here had almost defied definition. He was also nursing the suspicion, planted by being reminded of Margolotta, that Miss Fortuna was very much not a human woman.

[ooc; absolutely not a problem at all, take your time. ♥ And my own apologies extended for the above TLDR. XD I'm enjoying myself too much.]

She was not surprised to see that he apparently did not need to use his cane. It was in his favour, from her point of view. Methuselah were, after all, not accustomed to seeing people who were weak, at least not because of old age. And while Mirka had met her share of aged Terrans, she did not like reminders of how frail they actually were.

She graciously indicated the place prepared for him at the table while taking a seat herself. "Yes, I must say that I was surprised at the variety of people who inhabit the City. I've made a few very interesting friends." She remained deliberately vague on what exactly made her friends 'interesting'. It just didn't do to give away too much information at once.

"However, I too have noticed the lack of politics here. It seems that people naturally group together with those they were allied with in their own world, but beyond that..." She gave a little shrug. "Though I suppose I am not one to talk; I have remained closest with those of my household, who are all Imperials from my world." Mirka offered this in hopes of hearing more about Lord Vetinari's own world. She would never commit such a faux pas as to display her curiosity too openly, but she was curious nonetheless.

Her smile turned conspiratorial. "But one is always on the lookout to form alliances with like-minded people."

((ooc: tldr is shiny :3 and sorry again for my horribly extreme fail in answering quickly))

Vetinari sat with care that seemed almost intrinsic to his nature - even out of the habitat of his Oblong Office, he seemed rather comfortable, perhaps owing to the company. "Indeed?" He smiled, steepling hands on the table, "It is always best to have a varied social network." And varied indeed was the City's offerings; Vetinari was endlessly amused by each newly discovered inhabitant.

"It is a pity," He smiled slowly, "From what I've observed, there seem to be a handful of considerably powerful groups... several in opposition to one another, but none particularly organised." Well. There were exceptions. Vetinari thought briefly to the Major, and the smile flickered a moment.

"I cannot blame your tendency," He added delicately, "I am rooming with--well, I suppose if one must torture the definition, one would call him a wizard--from my own world. And I would sorely appreciate meeting with Commander Vimes again. I suppose you could say that I matured in the presence of individuals from my homeworld, and I am confident I know what to expect from them." He raised an eyebrow at her delicately, "That is, you see, if any of them had ...peculiarities, I was well aware of them."

[ooc; XD Take as much time as you need, srs. This are pretendy fun time games, after all.]

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LOG; Ongoing

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