From Attuned to Ascended to Ancient, Kiada Njovu-Reyes has been reborn several times throughout her short life, but her fighting spirit has never once been diminished. With beauty, grace and a quick wit, Kiada is the whole package wrapped in an infectious smile. Recent endeavours have found her in the heart of the Hollowed Grounds, aiding the region and bettering it for her new Ancient kin, and whatever she does next, we know it's sure to pack a punch.
Congratulations, Kiada!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
Finn has gotten Cian's letter. Despite the events of the past few days (events which have seen him markedly more at ease, sleeping like a rock through the night and smiling without realising it), he can tell a bad omen when it arrives on his desk. And so rather than replying and risking the letter being intercepted - or really, rather than having to wait uneasily for a response - Finn makes an appointment to see the Eye, finding himself outside Cian's office one morning soon after receiving the correspondence.
He looks surprisingly put together; his clothes are clean and pressed, his curls still damp from the shower, and maybe he's even wearing a touch of cologne. (I know, right?) Reaching out to knock at the door, Finn waits for the order to be given before he steps into Cian's office to discuss this trip he's apparently going to be taking.
'Come—' It's as customary a greeting as one might expect from Cian. However, when the Spyglass enters, it won't be to see the Eye sitting at his desk. Instead, he's seated with his back to the door before a roaring fire. There is a glass containing a dark liquid that smells vaguely of cloves in one hand, as Cian taps his foot along with the music of his own mind.
"There is water, tea, and brandy on the cart." He adds belatedly, and it sounds almost as though there is a bit of a smile in his voice, but of course, his posture and the high-backed chair in which he sits precludes Finn from confirming this.
Finn clicks the door shut behind him, tilting his head as he notices that the Eye isn't in his customary place behind the desk. With his back to the Spyglass, Finn goes ahead towards the cart once the drinks are offered, carefully making himself a cup of tea. "Thank you," he says, stirring in a little honey (another departure from the norm, for him to indulge himself in the presence of another).
Once everything is ready, he approaches Cian by the fire, standing in the other man's eyeline, but with his gaze on the crackling flames as well. "Your letter mentioned my leaving Stormbreak, without contact. What is the assignment?" At least that is something that will never change about the Spyglass; he will never be one for small-talk or introductions.
One of Cian's shoes, perfectly polished of course, continues to tap out a rhythm apparent only to the Eye as he waits for Finn to take a seat. He doesn't of course, it having not been offered to him. "Have a seat, Finn."
Silence stretches out, and it appears as though Cian is lost in thought. Or perhaps he simply wants to make Finn squirm. Such is never clear with the Eye; how much of what and who he is is intentionally intimidating and how much is simply an emergent property is not a question anyone will likely have the answer to. "There is another child of Safrin, born to the governor of Torchline." The Eye begins. "Ordinarily I would think this a good thing, solidifying Torchline in our favour, but I am not so optimistic."
Turning toward Finn now, Cian's gaze the colour of denim left in the sun for far too long, the Eye swirls the liquid softly in his glass. "Tell me Finn. Your experiences aside, as much as you can set them there, what are your thoughts on brothels?"
Finn has a seat. And, unlike in previous times where the silence between him really would cause him to squirm, the Spyglass contents himself with the heat of his teacup between his palms, the way the leaves smell laced with the sweetness of the honey, the fire that warms his legs. He has just taken a sip of his drink when the Eye finally breaks the silence and draws his attention in again. "Another Safrin child?" He doesn't sound surprised, but he similarly can't deny its importance.
"What worries you about it? The Governor would not turn on the mother of his child, surely." It isn't unheard of, but the mother of a child is not normally a goddess, either. None of that makes for an understandable segue into brothels, and the Spyglass glances across at Cian, visibly surprised. "They are... necessary," he says slowly. "They are also a law unto themselves."
"Fathers turn against mothers all the time." Cian says with a wave of his free hand. "But I am more worried about the ripples it has caused in his family dynamics. Ripples that I worry will secure the Voice's hold on Torchline. Or at least keep her foot in the door."
Nodding at Finn's assessment, Cian raises his drink to his lips, but doesn't take a sip. "A law unto themselves." He repeats, before downing what is in his glass. "A...complicated ecosystem, wouldn't you agree? The sort of environment that demands...a very certain type of touch. No pun intended."
Knowing nothing about what ripples this child of Safrin must have caused throughout Torchline, Finn can't really offer much by the way of an opinion. He can only take Cian's word for it - and the Eye is not in the habit of being wrong. "It sounds as though that is something that could use some intervention," he says instead. Finn is smart, but even he has no idea how to connect the dots between what Cian is saying and what this has to do with the assignment he is expected to carry out.
"The most complicated ecosystem I have ever encountered," he admits. "It requires no touch at all. It is all about listening, understanding. Being available." Being everything, to everyone who visits. A shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen. And, of course, a hole to fuck. "It is not a role I would wish on anyone."
"Yes. That it isn't always about sex is...something not everyone understands." As Finn would soon learn, it would be both a detriment to him and a boon to Cian that the Spyglass knew so much about their current topic.
"I do not fully trust our newest Order member. The installation of Skyboats in Torchline is stalled because of the weather, and I fear too much might happen during monsoon season to simply let the month go by." Turning properly now toward Finn, the Spyglass receiving the Eye's full attention, Cian pauses. Harsh though he might be, Cian's intention is never to be cruel despite what others might think.
"The Governor is not immune to the charms of the Halenani. Its Madame, to be precise." Reaching into his breast pocket, Cian withdraws a small and delicate looking charm on a thin golden chain. "This would allow you to change your appearance once. You could place yourself in whatever body you choose. I will leave that to you, given what you know. But I can think of no one else better suited to infiltrating a brothel and gaining the information we need." Finn was the spyglass, after all. "And as you said. There is often no touch required."
"Would that I did not understand it." Suddenly the tea starts to taste sour, despite the addition of the honey, and Finn hasn't noticed, but his grip has grown tight around his teacup. It's like a held breath between the silent flash of lightning and the roar of thunder; he is waiting for Cian to strike. And strike he does - whether or not his intention is to be cruel doesn't matter, not as Finn's eyes fall on the thin golden chain, not as the realisation about what he's expected to do hits home.
The teacup hits the hearth and shatters with a tinkle that is far too quiet for what Finn feels. He doesn't try to catch it, and he doesn't try to clean it up - stormy eyes are fixed upon Cian's, never leaving his face. "You wish for me to be a prostitute again," he mumbles. "You want me to--" Already the Spyglass is shaking his head and sitting back in his seat, surprising himself with the ferocity of his refusal.
"I am not a whore, Cian. That is not my job. If I were a Spyglass without the past that I have, you would not dare ask this of me."
The sound of shattering glass doesn't seem to register at all on Cian's face; he does not jump, does not move to clean it up, does not ask if Finn is alright. "Of course not. I would ask whoever it was who had the past best suited for the task." Cian replies mildly.
"Perhaps I have jumped too far ahead. It is monsoon season, thus activities in Torchline will be mostly ones held indoors. Given Sunjata's connections with the Madame and the information the staff acquires during their days, stationing someone there seems the logical choice. Of everyone, you best suit such a task. And," Cian has the nerve to softly smile. "You said you would not wish it upon anyone else."
That only leaves you, Finn.
"I never said anything about sex." The Eye points out, unhelpfully.
"I said I would not wish it on anyone. That includes myself," Finn corrects. His mouth is very dry all of a sudden, and he regrets letting the teacup slip between his fingers. With cheeks flushed pink, it's not entirely certain whether it's anger or shame that has him feeling hot all over. But, still as he is in his seat, there is no doubt that the Eye has managed to touch every nerve that Finn possesses.
"You never had to. It is a brothel," he reminds the other man. Just because Cian hasn't said sex doesn't mean that it isn't a requirement of the role, if that is what he's being asked to do. And Finn hardly thinks he is going to be infiltrating a brothel as an accountant.
"I can't do this," he says simply. "You may not care for my wellbeing, but I will not put myself back in that position. I am sorry Cian - you will have to find someone else."
The Eye shrugs, as if that detail is up to Finn to reconcile. 'Cleaning up, perhaps. Changing sheets and whatnot.'{/asy} He offers with a wave of his hand. Surely such tasks needed doing?
Finn continues to decline, to even say he's sorry which of course he isn't, and the Eye still seems as unmoved by his refusal as he was about the shattering of the teacup. "You are a smart man, Finn. It is why you were made my Spyglass. But if you cannot provide the information that I need, what are you to me, then?" And, this is where Finn's cleverness surely comes in, what need have I, of you? No longer a spyglass means Finn is likely a brothel-worker just the same.
How can you, who claims to know so much, know so pitifully little about this? It's what Finn wants to say, and it is of course what stays caged behind his teeth. He swallows hard, his stormy eyes growing cold and hard as Cian paints him so exquisitely into a corner. Because what is he, really, but a tool for the Eye to use? A whore just the same, without his fancy glasses and special titles.
His jaw feathers, and he eyes the charm that the other man has produced to change his appearance. The little good it would do, because it's still Finn on the inside. Blinking quickly, he finally looks back up at Cian. "This will destroy me," he says softly, keeping his tone as frank as he can. "Do you know that, or do you just not care?"
"Two very different questions." The Eye replies in a tone equally as measured. "So tell me, what about this will destroy you? You are not the man, the boy, you were when I met you all those years ago. Will you really still let him dictate your life? What you're capable of?" Cian looks almost disappointed, as if having measured Finn wrong somehow.
"Whether or not I care doesn't matter. Would it change things were I to offer you my deepest sympathies? To hold your hand when I had asked?" The Eye shakes his head ever so slightly. "What I wanted or care about had never mattered. This is not a role that permits such luxuries."
