maskormenacelogs | The devil he wore such a fine, fine shirt

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The devil he wore such a fine, fine shirt

WHO: Rincewind & Lord Petyr Baelish
WHERE: The Iron Throne, Maurtia Falls
WHEN: Night
WHAT: Just two BFFs hanging out in a gentleman's club. .....Hahahaha except no, actually they hate each other, and this will not end well for one of them.
WARNINGS: Talk of topless ladies, intimidation
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-No, no, I'm not leaving, not until I bloody well get to talk to - BAELISH! Where are you? We've damn well something to discuss, you and I!

[Rincewind boils like a frothing pot, his body radiating offense as he stalks across the floor. The receptionist's attempts at protest go ignored, and he barely even registers the scenery of the unfamiliar club around him. It's been hardly any time since he finished texting with Miles Vorkosigan, since he made the decision that confronting the slim Lord over the phone wouldn't be good enough. Oh no, betrayal needed to be discussed in person. Preferably with the Luggage along to back the man into a literal corner, but it can't use the Porters; he'll have to wait at least an hour for the sapient guard dog to join their conversation.

No matter; he's not going to need it to wring this scrawny man's neck - metaphorically or otherwise.]

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[ Petyr Baelish is reclining in one of the velvet cushioned chairs like a king on his throne. His eyes are on two beautiful young ladies in their early twenties in the midst of auditioning for him -- up on stage, partially nude and dancing a provocative dance to a sensual beat. ]

You call that enticing? I call it reenacting every well-rehearsed scene a pornographic film would depict. Men might get off to it, but you will never stay in their minds that way. And the whole point is that you want them to come back. You want them to request you. That is what it means to be truly desired. Try again from the beginning. And this time perform as though you wish for me to be part of the experience rather than merely on the outide looking in.

[ The girls climb off the stage to restart the music just as the obnoxious cries of Rincewind ring throughout the nearly empty club. Petyr doesn't move from his spot when Rincewind bursts in, although the girls stop what they're doing and cover their chests with their arms. ]

Don't worry, ladies. It's the town drunk making his rounds. Go to the back room and I will be with you momentarily. This will not take long.

[ His eyes shift toward Rincewind fully, then. ]

You have ten minutes to say what you need to say and get out of my sight.

[the sight of two topless women nearly derails Rincewind's (admittedly loosely gathered) plans altogether. The wizard's jaw, open for another round, snaps shut. He can feel his skin heating, smacked in the face with his embarrassed flush, and it's entirely possible he might have tugged his hat over his eyes and tripped over himself in his hurry to flee the room -

- were it not for Baelish's insult there to ground him again. Downright reliable, that man; like clockwork.]

The town - ? [the women move past and Rincewind pauses until they've left, eyes averted. They swing back up, glaring, only once he's heard a far off door click shut.]

Miles. Miles Naismith. You told him. So what I need to know from you first - the very first thing I want to hear from you - is if it was idiocy or intention?

Which answer would anger you more? Because I will go with that answer.

[ Baelish slyly retorts, crossing one leg over the next. He gestures a hand to the chair at the edge of the table if Rincewind chooses to sit. But he could also continue to stand for all Petyr cares. ]

Honestly, I figured he already knew. [ He shrugs, unapologetic as he pours himself a glass of water from the pitcher beside him. ] And since he is what Lucifer wants in the end, why not let him take your place? I told you I would figure out a solution when I was helping you. But now since I no longer am helping you, perhaps you should worry more about who else I might tell? Perhaps Lucifer himself may be interested in yours and Doctor Chilton's attempts to undermine him.

Would it not hurt you dearly to see Doctor Chilton earn the mark Miles once bore...?

[Rincewind remains standing, of course - a coward will always stay on their feet when given the choice.

Indignation flares, stoked by the open enmity of Baelish's admission, and he's all ready to launch into his speech - to ask if the Lord has any idea what could happen to Rincewind if Lucifer thought he was stirring the ashes of a battle already fought, trying to work Miles and the army he's gathered into giving the angel another grievous headache.

We're done, Rincewind was ready to proclaim, smugly justified. We're done and I'll make sure that doctor you think you have in your pocket slips right out.

The speech - and any other words he might have, for that matter - die abruptly in his throat then. He stares down at Baelish, sitting so primly on his self-made throne, as if seeing him for the first time.]

In - in our attempts? As if you weren't a part - [he's practically choking on his attempt to string together a comeback.] You would - you wouldn't dare -

I would dare.

[ Petyr appears mockingly scandalized to poke fun of Rincewind's sudden shock. ]

You've done all you can to ensure I dislike you. I gave you ample warning that you did not heed about the type of man I am. You cannot say I did not. And even now, you think you can march into my establishment and threaten me. I would think as cowardly as you are, you would exercise far more caution when poking the most venomous of serpents.

[ His leg uncrosses and he rises to his feet, stepping closer to the wizard. ]

So now I'm telling you how it's going to be, friend. [ A beat. And a smirk spreads dangerously across his face. ] And why don't you kneel before your new lord as I lay out my terms?

[ Sure doesn't hurt to get a little bit of subservience while he's at it. ]

[of course he'd dare. Rincewind had regretted the protest as soon as it left his mouth simply for the taste of the cliche. This is a side to Lord Baelish he hasn't seen before, but he'd guessed it was there early on, hadn't he? "A grand vizier in the making" is what he'd called the man to Chilton. Clever, ambitious, cruel - the sort who saw people as game pieces but would rather set the board on fire than allow the other side victory.

You got complacent, he thinks bitterly, listening as Lord Baelish neatly lists the reasons to absolve himself. Regular meals, friends, and a proper home - you let your instincts dull. You walked into this the moment you accepted his 'help.'

Rincewind steps back the moment the other man steps forward, mirroring him. He must be quite the miserable portrait: body coiled tight as a spring, wearing an expression like someone's filled his mouth with pins and tacks.

It looks like he's being made to swallow them, when Baelish suggests he get on his knees.

Defiance (and a second's consideration of flight) flares in Rincewind's eyes before making a sullen retreat. He knows the part expected of him here; he's played it before. Only a knife at his throat could make this feel more familiar. He consoles himself with a particularly nasty and utterly silent curse in Trob before he sinks to the floor, grimacing.]

Go on then.

Edited 2016-06-04 15:29 (UTC)

[ It's a wonderful feeling, having that power here and moreover seeing someone bowing so deeply to him. As though he truly is a king. Petyr glances down at Rincewind with amusement. ]

I am running for Maurtia Falls ambassador. And you will become my most adamant and vocal of supporters during this time to make up for how you attempted to slander my good name. For some unknown reason people like you. They may listen when you tell them to vote in my favor. You will not speak out against me. I will find out if you do. And you will, from hereon out, give me the proper respect I deserve.

In return, I do not enlist Lucifer's aid against you. I do not drag Frederick Chilton down because of you. I do not seek to destroy everything you hold dear in this world.

[ He regards Rincewind, unapologetic as he says: ]

We could have been great allies, you and I. You often blame your luck for getting you into these situations, but it was your actions that inspired this -- your foolishness that has you prostrated before me.

[Foolishness? he thinks with scathing sarcasm. Oh yes. That and a megalomaniacal bastard will do it every time.

Rincewind has been on his knees for others before: for the Patrician, for soldiers, for pirates, for power-mad wizards, Kings of Hell, and, yes, viziers - but generally, the position becomes the springboard for a sprinting escape. It takes little effort at all for a kneel to become a seasoned runner's starting crouch.

Running won't save him from extortion. He finds himself glad the Luggage hasn't turned up yet. Having to order it not to devour Baelish whole, lest the Porter bring the man back, would leave one hell of a sour taste in his mouth.

The wizard flicks a momentary, baleful glance up at the noble's looming figure. This isn't right - this isn't how it's meant to go. With the exception of run-ins with slavers, the threat against his person has always been straightforward and literal, the solution a likewise literal run and jump out of reach. No one outside of this bloody world has ever bothered to play the long game with Rincewind, and now here he is facing it on two fronts; it's madness.]

...Yes. All right. [brittle, miserable acceptance in his voice while he looks anywhere but at Petyr, just so he doesn't have to see the man's smug satisfaction.] I'll talk about what a lovely leader you'd make, and how people absolutely aren't making an enormous mistake by giving you power. And I'll leave you be; no more insults.

[out loud, anyway.]

Does that about do it? ...And is that what you were after from the start, with Dr. Chilton? A bargaining piece you could trade to others if it suited you?

It's no more a mistake to give me power than it would be to hand it over to Count Dooku. Perhaps worse, in the end. From what I have heard about that man, he seeks absolute power and control. Lucifer even endorses him, so that should tell you something. I, on the other hand, rather enjoy the freedoms and liberties of chaos.

[ He reaches down to touch Rincewind's elbow, guiding the man to his feet before taking a few steps toward a table. He pours a glass of wine before offering the rest of the bottle into Rincewind's hands. Every drunk must have his drink. ]

Doctor Chilton is far more to me than a bargaining piece. Contrary to what you believe, I do view him as a friend. He is a man who shares the same ambitions and motivations as I. I admire him for his accomplishments and the way he views the world. It's surprising to me, really. That you would despise me so but have a great fondness for him when we are essentially the same type of man. He would throw you to the wolves if it meant he could rise above.

[ Baelish takes a sip of his glass. ]

But I suppose you've always had a bias against me from the very moment I told you I was a lord.

Well, let's be fair - Lucifer hasn't met you yet. [but he bites his tongue on anything more, recognizing that a trespass this early would be unwise. 'The freedoms and liberties of chaos', though, gods what a platform. Is that the idea for him? Just set a fire and see what burns?

Rincewind flinches from the hand at his elbow, wide-eyed for a moment as he expects some painful grab. When it doesn't come, when he's on his feet again, he only rubs at his arm and frowns. The frown deepens when he's passed the bottle. A shadow casts briefly over his eyes as he stares down its neck, reminded of another time.

He doesn't drink.]

A friend. [looking back up, wearily resigned. He considers asking if Lord Baelish threatens to turn all his friends over to devils, or if Chilton is just special. Baelish certainly seems to think so, from the way he's talking about him.]

You can see in him what you like, I'm sure. [if he's not just outright lying, trying to mess with Rincewind simply because he can.] But you're wrong. He's putting himself at risk trying to help me. Won't let up on it. It'd be less dangerous to him to cut ties with me, but he hasn't.

...And yes, I suppose I did. [he won't deny he found Petyr's title relevant even on the first night they met.] Because I know them. You could have proved me wrong, you know. You didn't. Every little chance you had to insult me, you took.

[Rincewind shakes his head, setting the bottle of wine back on the table, untouched.]

Never mind. It doesn't matter.

[ His eyes follow the bottle when it's returned to the table. A subtle sign of Petyr's influence on Rincewind. After all, the wizard would have been all over the alcohol under normal circumstances, would he not? But now, after having given him the chance to drink, he's suddenly choosing sobriety.

The remark about Chilton as Rincewind describes him earns a roll of his eyes. Why. That is what Baelish struggles to understand. What about this pathetic nobody wizard has piqued Chilton's interest? He's useless in the grand scheme of things. So what about him is even worth saving? ]

I am not wrong. But you won't believe me, of course. You won't believe me until you see it for yourself. Self-preservation will always win out in the end. And from my understanding, it is a psychiatrist's job to lead his patients to believe he is their friend. After all, how best does one earn trust?

[ Petyr is back on his self-made throne, crossing one leg over the next. ]

But you're right. It doesn't matter. It never did. What you call insults, I call banter. I said those things to you. Not to others. Not about you. And therein lies the difference between our infractions.

[it would be disingenuous to say some part of that doesn't reach Rincewind. The wizard is made of less sturdy stuff than he'd like to be, and a bit of that insinuation - that he's being used, being led, that Chilton's care for him is either professional or nonexistent - burrows like a beetle into the already fertile ground of his self-doubts. As to whether it will nest or stay buried - who can say? Still, Rincewind only grimaces; he shakes his head once. Refusing.]

I know a little something about self-preservation. Sometimes - [he licks his lips, glancing away.] - rarely... you find something more important.

[shoulders hunched, arms crossed, Rincewind wanders towards the edge of the empty stage, inspecting the room. Mostly because he still finds it easier to talk without looking at Petyr directly. He can't figure out if the brothel lord is trying to somehow convince him to take responsibility, or if he really believes it himself.]

Infractions, were they? And this is - you doling out punishment then?

[ Doling out the punishment. Putting Rincewind in his place. Establishing hierarchy over the wizard. Petyr merely smirks in that irritating 'I'm not telling' way of his and then glances toward his glass of wine. ]

And most of the time, that thing of importance is one-sided. Rare is it that people share equivalent feelings toward one another. How nice it would be if there was a world where love -- familial and romantic -- or friendship conquered all. But those are worlds for the truly delusional. People such as Princess L'Arachel who are not grounded in reality. You and I, however, live in worlds where this...

[ He gestures between them as though referencing their very relationship in the invisible air. ]

...is our reality.

[Rincewind would throw it all back in Petyr's face if he could, consequences be damned, just to wipe that insufferable look from the nobleman's face. But there's nothing to throw. That's Rincewind's own philosophy being used against him, and even recognizing that he can't deny it. People like Twoflower believed that good would always win because that's what good's meant to do, but Rincewind knows better. Sees better. "Good" men suffer and die all the time, and all the friends and family in the world don't stop it. More often than not, it just means more people fall with them when the final blow comes.

The world - all worlds - runs on brutality and chance. There's no more logic to it than that. Sometimes you get lucky; Rincewind certainly has in the past. Mostly, though, people who aren't quick, clever, or strong enough to prevent it get crushed or used. That's how the world works.

And they both know it.

Rincewind's shoulders hunch further in on themselves. He looks back towards where he came in, clearly yearning for an exit.]

...I suppose we'll see which one of us is right about him then. Eventually. [because if Petyr is wrong, if despite the danger to himself Chilton finds a way to help Rincewind slip the devil's lead - if Lucifer ceases to become a concern, and Petyr's threat against him crumbles...

Well, they both know the reality of their relationship, don't they?]

I'll leave you to your evening then, shall I?

[ Petyr shrugs, but again it's with the arrogance of a man who truly believes he's right. A more concerning reality would be the devil porting out well before Chilton would be able to slip Rincewind from his clutches. But with Peter Pan on his side and the ability to call in a favor if need be, he isn't too concerned about all of this blowing up in his face. He merely makes a grandiose gesture for the door and with a shit-eating smirk, he says: ]

Do feel free to visit at any time, Rincewind. You could use what my club has to offer. I would even waive the entry fee for the first visit, since we are to be such dear friends.

[ And, as though to emphasize that point, he calls out for the auditioning ladies right before the wizard leaves so that the last image he can have is of two topless, beautiful women. He figures for a man who vowed celibacy, such a sight would be more torturous than any of the words or blackmail shared between them. ]

[it's funny - it's Lucifer who started all this, cornered the wizard and branded him with his mark - but it's Lord Baelish who finally churns Rincewind's stomach with bitter, nauseated hatred. It's his mocking smirk framed by topless women the wizard will remember after he leaves, pink-eared and thoroughly cowed.

How no one else can see the truth of this man peeking around the edges of his charming, humble mask, Rincewind doesn't know. He's angry with himself for not seeing it sooner - because it was there from the start, wasn't it? All the signs laid out for anyone with the desire to see them.

When you're the sort of man who sells flesh for a living, you're going to look at people and see price tags.]

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The devil he wore such a fine, fine shirt

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