She has never found this space, grand and opulent and well, overkill, to be a prison. It is freedom in a strange sense, it is power in the true sense. Power is not just impossible things, it is not just the ability to flick her wrist and summon shadows to hold him or fire to consume her enemies. Power is perception, it is making others believe that you are in control regardless of whether you are or are not. Sometimes the magic makes them believe, sometimes just the atmosphere, the sight of things that scream money. In the end, her power comes because she can sway them in any possible way, not just one.
She will only offer him one, because she is no fool. To give anyone else too much is to take away her own power, but to give them just enough sustains her.
He is not rattled by her question, which she appreciates. They chose well (at least so far) in sending this one. Though a few things had caught him off guard (she’d be suspicious if they had not), he recovered quickly and didn’t seem remotely rattled now. He knew what he wanted, and that was what she was looking for.
Her grin widens as he goes on, mentioning how the activity of his association has struck fear into the hearts of those fat, grubby men. There’s some predatory in that grin, something clearly pleased. “I’ve rather enjoyed watching them scramble,” she says, with an amused purr. It was quite funny to see them running in terror from someone other than herself (though it was funny when they ran from her too).
As he continues to speak, she reaches a hand to the side of her chair and presses a small, barely noticeable button. On the table between them, a panel slides open and a small vial moves up out of the hole. Many of the senators and politicians had tried to get this from her, though they rarely did so to her face (she might have almost been inclined to agree, had they actually been brave). Still, she has learned to be cautious, not that she hasn’t always been cautious because you do not get to her position without such a trait. She cannot simply give away her secrets to just anyone who answers a question well and catches her attention.
No, they must earn it.
She nods at the vial, not entirely sure what it will contain. Iris did an excellent job at creating samples, and though there were a few rules, otherwise it was always a bit of a surprise. The effects of the vial were temporary - a few hours - and the powers were always nominal - extra strength or speed, or things of that nature - but still, it was enough of a taste for this process to work. “Take it,” she says, nodding at the vial. “Your association impresses me, but still, you must earn it. I have a man currently out on a job and, let’s just say, I do not think he will get it done. He can be found at the Metropolitan, most likely failing miserably.”
The Metropolitan was a usual target of hers. Most of the art in there was fake anyway, the real stuff long in circulation in the underground market, but Straia still found that people were foolish enough to buy fake art. If she ever found the real items, she tended to slip them back into circulation in the museums somewhere far enough away that no one would trace it back to her or New Tomi. “I would like you to steal his target for me. You can leave him alive though. He’s far too chicken to ever do anything that would come back to me.”
@[Wolfbane]
She will only offer him one, because she is no fool. To give anyone else too much is to take away her own power, but to give them just enough sustains her.
He is not rattled by her question, which she appreciates. They chose well (at least so far) in sending this one. Though a few things had caught him off guard (she’d be suspicious if they had not), he recovered quickly and didn’t seem remotely rattled now. He knew what he wanted, and that was what she was looking for.
Her grin widens as he goes on, mentioning how the activity of his association has struck fear into the hearts of those fat, grubby men. There’s some predatory in that grin, something clearly pleased. “I’ve rather enjoyed watching them scramble,” she says, with an amused purr. It was quite funny to see them running in terror from someone other than herself (though it was funny when they ran from her too).
As he continues to speak, she reaches a hand to the side of her chair and presses a small, barely noticeable button. On the table between them, a panel slides open and a small vial moves up out of the hole. Many of the senators and politicians had tried to get this from her, though they rarely did so to her face (she might have almost been inclined to agree, had they actually been brave). Still, she has learned to be cautious, not that she hasn’t always been cautious because you do not get to her position without such a trait. She cannot simply give away her secrets to just anyone who answers a question well and catches her attention.
No, they must earn it.
She nods at the vial, not entirely sure what it will contain. Iris did an excellent job at creating samples, and though there were a few rules, otherwise it was always a bit of a surprise. The effects of the vial were temporary - a few hours - and the powers were always nominal - extra strength or speed, or things of that nature - but still, it was enough of a taste for this process to work. “Take it,” she says, nodding at the vial. “Your association impresses me, but still, you must earn it. I have a man currently out on a job and, let’s just say, I do not think he will get it done. He can be found at the Metropolitan, most likely failing miserably.”
The Metropolitan was a usual target of hers. Most of the art in there was fake anyway, the real stuff long in circulation in the underground market, but Straia still found that people were foolish enough to buy fake art. If she ever found the real items, she tended to slip them back into circulation in the museums somewhere far enough away that no one would trace it back to her or New Tomi. “I would like you to steal his target for me. You can leave him alive though. He’s far too chicken to ever do anything that would come back to me.”
@[Wolfbane]