"You are looking well." It was a flat greeting, made more out of habitual politeness than any sort of genuine concern. Said greeting was meaningless anyway: the Duskwight's attention was fully occupied by the large schematic on his desk, a slender blue-gray hand gracefully piloting a quill across the sheet. Despite the speed with which the Elezen wrote, there was no chaos in the movements. The motions were swift but contained a controlled complexity, like a ballroom dance.
"This is the first time we've seen each other face-to-face in moons, and that cold observation is all I receive?" Nero's trademark smirk accompanied his response as he leaned against the wall. Outside the secluded office, the blows of hammers and the shouting of workers could be heard.
"In all of our previous encounters, your initiation of contact was an action brought forth by practicality. An expectation of courteous pleasantries at this juncture is both superfluous and asinine." The chilly response was punctuated by the soft scratching of the quill on parchment.
Nero clicked his tongue. "I can't tell if you're blunt because of who you are or if it's because of my flippant attitude. A mixture of both, perhaps." The Duskwight did not deign to respond, merely brushing a hand past snow-white locks in a fashion suggesting that Nero's comment was not worth remarking upon.
The smuggler counted what lucky stars he felt he had left for having secured the cooperation of Arturieaux Bellamont. The pair of them had known each other during Nero's studies of thaumaturgy; the Elezen arcanist had spent a number of moons in Ul'dah studying the intricacies of thaumaturgy, and had been courteously escorted through the city by Nero when the latter was still an acolyte. To call them friends would be going rather far--the Duskwight's harsh rebuke, though masked in grandiloquent loquaciousness, was a sure indication of that--but they shared some measure of mutual respect between them. The arcanist was a certified expert in his field of aetherial flow and the principles of energy utilisation and conversion, and the smuggler even back then had a certain talent for obtaining rare and valuable materials without most people knowing. Given the Duskwight's rather ruthless nature in his scientific endeavours, the pair were a simple match.Â
"In any case, I had a rare moment of free time, and so I wanted to inspect construction for myself," the smuggler said nonchalantly. "Take a look at my investment, as it were."Â
The truth was far more petty and whimsical, and both men in the office knew it. Nero had traveled across Vylbrand to the hidden cove to distract himself. In the smuggler's mind, seeing the direct effects of his influence would help quell his wavering doubts. Roen had confronted him about the weapons shipment he'd brought to Scythe and brought to the forefront how often Nero had deceived others, including her. In typical Roen fashion, she'd managed to throw all of his thoughts and conviction into disarray. That was not to imply that it was purely her fault, but Nero deliberately tried to ignore her during their conversation and he knew it.
Speaking to Arturieaux was a subconscious effort as well, a silent cry for help. While Nero took pleasure in deconstructing the motivations and personalities of others--mostly to stroke his own ego--the Duskwight viewed people as puzzles to be solved. Speaking to Arturieaux was a way for the smuggler to unravel the mess that was his own psyche, and it was not the first time the former had done so.
"I fail to see the point. It is not as if you are qualified to properly judge such a monumental undertaking," Arturieaux responded, sniffing disdainfully. Nero raised an eyebrow. The Duskwight's phlegmatic disposition was not something that was easily adjusted to. Arturieaux was not being arrogant or insulting in his comment: in the arcanist's mind, he was merely pointing out an accurate observation.Â
Still, it wouldn't hurt him to adopt at least some measure of social grace.
"Even so, mayhaps it would be prudent for us to move again," Nero said, gazing out the office's small window.Â
The tone of the Duskwight's response was encompassed by a disdainful snort. "The foundation has already been laid out and we finally have set up the facilities to manufacture the necessary parts. Attempting to shift the location of construction now would merely throw everything into disarray."
"I realise that you don't like it when we make you walk--only the Twelve knows why they bothered to give you legs--but recent events have turned some heat on our activities."
"Your activities. And are you not the one who is used to evading the law? If you were less foolish then 'heat' is not something we need to be worried about." Their conversation was akin to a duel. The smuggler would broach a topic, the Duskwight would rebuke him with "foolish" this and "nonsensical" that, to which the smuggler would return with his characteristic sarcastic quips, only to be met with another cold, calculated response.Â
Nero put on an indignant expression. "In my defense, that was because Scythe had decided to strain against his leash."
"And you are the handler who put that boorish man on a leash in the first place. Is it not your responsibility to control him?"
"Controlling him is different from supervising him. I'm not a fussy mother who can afford to ensure that the children behave in school. If he decides to throw chalk and kick another child in the face, then--"
"Then it is still your responsibility, even within the contexts of this idiotic analogy."
The smuggler turned, leaning his back against the small window and folding his arms. "Worry not, I've spoken to him about it. Nothing has changed. In fact, he'll be able to buy us some time."
Arturieaux turned his head somewhat to shoot Nero an irritated glare. "I distinctly recall your statement saying that the 'heat' was on us. That is the opposite of what you are saying now, if you are unaware."Â
The smuggler merely smirked--a hollow gesture--and shrugged. "What can I say? I like to keep you on your toes. But yes, we had a little discussion and I took care of a problem of his. He'll behave how I want him to and cause some sporadic chaos. That'll be enough to turn the attention to domestic issues, so to speak."
"And yet, you are the one who supplied him with weaponry, so logically the focus of authorities will be on you." Arturieaux turned his attention back to editing the schematic as he spoke.
"The inherent problem with violence in Ul'dah is never the weaponry, it's who uses it. Even if I didn't supply them, someone else who is trying to make a profit would. If the Blades were at all competent, bandit gangs would never be a problem."
The Duskwight waved an idle hand. "Spare me your political ramblings. They are irrelevant. What is stopping you from having your paladin friend take care of it?"
Now it was Nero's turn to snort. "Roen is reliably competent but won't be able to take care of a problem like this. She has no authority. If what my contact in the Blades said was true, she can barely show her face in the city."
"And whose doing is that, I am forced to wonder," the Duskwight observed dryly. "Evidently this is becoming a running theme. Are you even aware of how capable you are of crippling your own allies?"
"Even so, you are still cooperating with me," Nero shot back in an attempt to divert the flow of the conversation. But Arturieaux had sensed the former's discomfort and had locked on to the target, ignoring the bait the smuggler had laid out.
"Ul'dah is her home and yet her association with you has made her a fugitive, and now you complain that she is unable to fix your problems for you. An exceptionally incompetent man you are, Nero Lazarov." On the one hand, Arturieaux's ability to not give a damn made the Duskwight incredibly capable of gaining the upper hand in a conversation, which is why Nero hated speaking to him at times. On the other hand, said "not give a damn" ability was what enabled Arturieaux to ignore all social etiquette and bring certain indisputable problems to the forefront, which is why Nero needed to speak to him at times.
The smuggler paused in his response, but the Duskwight did not relent.
"Do you love her?"
Nero's head whipped around at that. He was prepared for that line of questioning to come forth as soon as the topic of Roen arrived, but he was not prepared for it to be that blunt, even considering who he was speaking to. What was most surprising was that while Nero had mentioned Roen and her involvement to him, never had he mentioned any sort of affection or intimacy to Arturieaux.
"Why do you ask?" Nero responded carefully.
"Responding to a question with a question is a sure sign of an incompetent man, doubtful in his motives and flawed in his reasoning, and the most infallible downfall to most men is their shallow desire for a woman. She lacks the power to do what you wish to be accomplished, yet you keep her as an agent. You have told me that she insists on her idealism which clashes with your own principles and yet you remain involved with one another, to which I repeat my query. Do you love her?"
The smuggler folded his arms, turning his gaze down to the floor to gather his thoughts. "I...trust her. I value her. She is--"
"Why?" Arturieaux had put the quill down and ceased his work, turning his attention to Nero. The Duskwight's elegant white robe shifted as he too folded his arms, mirroring Nero's defensive posture. At this point, Arturieaux had evidently decided that he would not accomplish any meaningful work so long as he was forced to serve as the Hyur's emotional adviser. "You claim to trust and value her, and yet those ideas are different from love. She most assuredly has some manner of affection for you if she is willing to forsake herself from her home, but you yourself are not willing to make such a sacrifice for her sake."
"What I--"
"Would you throw away your plan for her?"
"No." The response was immediate, and accompanied by some sense of immediate regret.
"Then you do not love her. You are merely using her, and I've yet to decide which is more despicable: the idea that you are using her without being aware of it, or the idea that you are fully aware and simply do not want to admit it."
A long silence expanded in the room, with Arturieaux staring at Nero and Nero staring at the floor, his thoughts in turmoil. After several minutes of this stillness, the Duskwight loosed an exasperated sigh and turned back to the schematic on his desk.
"Do me the favour of vacating this premise, and take your emotional baggage with you."
Nero glanced at the Duskwight's back before wordlessly leaving the office.
"This is the first time we've seen each other face-to-face in moons, and that cold observation is all I receive?" Nero's trademark smirk accompanied his response as he leaned against the wall. Outside the secluded office, the blows of hammers and the shouting of workers could be heard.
"In all of our previous encounters, your initiation of contact was an action brought forth by practicality. An expectation of courteous pleasantries at this juncture is both superfluous and asinine." The chilly response was punctuated by the soft scratching of the quill on parchment.
Nero clicked his tongue. "I can't tell if you're blunt because of who you are or if it's because of my flippant attitude. A mixture of both, perhaps." The Duskwight did not deign to respond, merely brushing a hand past snow-white locks in a fashion suggesting that Nero's comment was not worth remarking upon.
The smuggler counted what lucky stars he felt he had left for having secured the cooperation of Arturieaux Bellamont. The pair of them had known each other during Nero's studies of thaumaturgy; the Elezen arcanist had spent a number of moons in Ul'dah studying the intricacies of thaumaturgy, and had been courteously escorted through the city by Nero when the latter was still an acolyte. To call them friends would be going rather far--the Duskwight's harsh rebuke, though masked in grandiloquent loquaciousness, was a sure indication of that--but they shared some measure of mutual respect between them. The arcanist was a certified expert in his field of aetherial flow and the principles of energy utilisation and conversion, and the smuggler even back then had a certain talent for obtaining rare and valuable materials without most people knowing. Given the Duskwight's rather ruthless nature in his scientific endeavours, the pair were a simple match.Â
"In any case, I had a rare moment of free time, and so I wanted to inspect construction for myself," the smuggler said nonchalantly. "Take a look at my investment, as it were."Â
The truth was far more petty and whimsical, and both men in the office knew it. Nero had traveled across Vylbrand to the hidden cove to distract himself. In the smuggler's mind, seeing the direct effects of his influence would help quell his wavering doubts. Roen had confronted him about the weapons shipment he'd brought to Scythe and brought to the forefront how often Nero had deceived others, including her. In typical Roen fashion, she'd managed to throw all of his thoughts and conviction into disarray. That was not to imply that it was purely her fault, but Nero deliberately tried to ignore her during their conversation and he knew it.
Speaking to Arturieaux was a subconscious effort as well, a silent cry for help. While Nero took pleasure in deconstructing the motivations and personalities of others--mostly to stroke his own ego--the Duskwight viewed people as puzzles to be solved. Speaking to Arturieaux was a way for the smuggler to unravel the mess that was his own psyche, and it was not the first time the former had done so.
"I fail to see the point. It is not as if you are qualified to properly judge such a monumental undertaking," Arturieaux responded, sniffing disdainfully. Nero raised an eyebrow. The Duskwight's phlegmatic disposition was not something that was easily adjusted to. Arturieaux was not being arrogant or insulting in his comment: in the arcanist's mind, he was merely pointing out an accurate observation.Â
Still, it wouldn't hurt him to adopt at least some measure of social grace.
"Even so, mayhaps it would be prudent for us to move again," Nero said, gazing out the office's small window.Â
The tone of the Duskwight's response was encompassed by a disdainful snort. "The foundation has already been laid out and we finally have set up the facilities to manufacture the necessary parts. Attempting to shift the location of construction now would merely throw everything into disarray."
"I realise that you don't like it when we make you walk--only the Twelve knows why they bothered to give you legs--but recent events have turned some heat on our activities."
"Your activities. And are you not the one who is used to evading the law? If you were less foolish then 'heat' is not something we need to be worried about." Their conversation was akin to a duel. The smuggler would broach a topic, the Duskwight would rebuke him with "foolish" this and "nonsensical" that, to which the smuggler would return with his characteristic sarcastic quips, only to be met with another cold, calculated response.Â
Nero put on an indignant expression. "In my defense, that was because Scythe had decided to strain against his leash."
"And you are the handler who put that boorish man on a leash in the first place. Is it not your responsibility to control him?"
"Controlling him is different from supervising him. I'm not a fussy mother who can afford to ensure that the children behave in school. If he decides to throw chalk and kick another child in the face, then--"
"Then it is still your responsibility, even within the contexts of this idiotic analogy."
The smuggler turned, leaning his back against the small window and folding his arms. "Worry not, I've spoken to him about it. Nothing has changed. In fact, he'll be able to buy us some time."
Arturieaux turned his head somewhat to shoot Nero an irritated glare. "I distinctly recall your statement saying that the 'heat' was on us. That is the opposite of what you are saying now, if you are unaware."Â
The smuggler merely smirked--a hollow gesture--and shrugged. "What can I say? I like to keep you on your toes. But yes, we had a little discussion and I took care of a problem of his. He'll behave how I want him to and cause some sporadic chaos. That'll be enough to turn the attention to domestic issues, so to speak."
"And yet, you are the one who supplied him with weaponry, so logically the focus of authorities will be on you." Arturieaux turned his attention back to editing the schematic as he spoke.
"The inherent problem with violence in Ul'dah is never the weaponry, it's who uses it. Even if I didn't supply them, someone else who is trying to make a profit would. If the Blades were at all competent, bandit gangs would never be a problem."
The Duskwight waved an idle hand. "Spare me your political ramblings. They are irrelevant. What is stopping you from having your paladin friend take care of it?"
Now it was Nero's turn to snort. "Roen is reliably competent but won't be able to take care of a problem like this. She has no authority. If what my contact in the Blades said was true, she can barely show her face in the city."
"And whose doing is that, I am forced to wonder," the Duskwight observed dryly. "Evidently this is becoming a running theme. Are you even aware of how capable you are of crippling your own allies?"
"Even so, you are still cooperating with me," Nero shot back in an attempt to divert the flow of the conversation. But Arturieaux had sensed the former's discomfort and had locked on to the target, ignoring the bait the smuggler had laid out.
"Ul'dah is her home and yet her association with you has made her a fugitive, and now you complain that she is unable to fix your problems for you. An exceptionally incompetent man you are, Nero Lazarov." On the one hand, Arturieaux's ability to not give a damn made the Duskwight incredibly capable of gaining the upper hand in a conversation, which is why Nero hated speaking to him at times. On the other hand, said "not give a damn" ability was what enabled Arturieaux to ignore all social etiquette and bring certain indisputable problems to the forefront, which is why Nero needed to speak to him at times.
The smuggler paused in his response, but the Duskwight did not relent.
"Do you love her?"
Nero's head whipped around at that. He was prepared for that line of questioning to come forth as soon as the topic of Roen arrived, but he was not prepared for it to be that blunt, even considering who he was speaking to. What was most surprising was that while Nero had mentioned Roen and her involvement to him, never had he mentioned any sort of affection or intimacy to Arturieaux.
"Why do you ask?" Nero responded carefully.
"Responding to a question with a question is a sure sign of an incompetent man, doubtful in his motives and flawed in his reasoning, and the most infallible downfall to most men is their shallow desire for a woman. She lacks the power to do what you wish to be accomplished, yet you keep her as an agent. You have told me that she insists on her idealism which clashes with your own principles and yet you remain involved with one another, to which I repeat my query. Do you love her?"
The smuggler folded his arms, turning his gaze down to the floor to gather his thoughts. "I...trust her. I value her. She is--"
"Why?" Arturieaux had put the quill down and ceased his work, turning his attention to Nero. The Duskwight's elegant white robe shifted as he too folded his arms, mirroring Nero's defensive posture. At this point, Arturieaux had evidently decided that he would not accomplish any meaningful work so long as he was forced to serve as the Hyur's emotional adviser. "You claim to trust and value her, and yet those ideas are different from love. She most assuredly has some manner of affection for you if she is willing to forsake herself from her home, but you yourself are not willing to make such a sacrifice for her sake."
"What I--"
"Would you throw away your plan for her?"
"No." The response was immediate, and accompanied by some sense of immediate regret.
"Then you do not love her. You are merely using her, and I've yet to decide which is more despicable: the idea that you are using her without being aware of it, or the idea that you are fully aware and simply do not want to admit it."
A long silence expanded in the room, with Arturieaux staring at Nero and Nero staring at the floor, his thoughts in turmoil. After several minutes of this stillness, the Duskwight loosed an exasperated sigh and turned back to the schematic on his desk.
"Do me the favour of vacating this premise, and take your emotional baggage with you."
Nero glanced at the Duskwight's back before wordlessly leaving the office.
