Ramblin' Queen RendezvousIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | PreGameLogs | Ramblin' Queen Rendezvous Yr +90, Johann/Petra ooc: This is set in late year 90. Johann will leave for Arden early in 91. Johann had packed a few essentials in a sealed waterproof bag and placed it beneath his shirt. He had ridden out, before the Queen launched, and prepared his rowboat. Rowing out ahead of the ship's passage wasn't especially strenuous, as he had left himself plenty of time. After reaching his target location, he looked up at the stars and rested. When he sighted the Queen approaching, he realized the time had arrived. He kicked off his old boots, and placed his jeans in a second waterproof bag along with his tribute for the Queen's Queen, and calmly tore the bottom out of his boat. He was a strong swimmer, and the currents would carry him directly to the Queen, but he cursed the weight of the tribute. As he reached the side of the mighty ship, he searched for the handholds along the side he had spotted through a spyglass days earlier. They were difficult to reach while already submerged in deep water, but he did not have especial trouble in hauling himself up over the rear. He moved out of sight of casual partiers, scraped the water off with the edge of his hand, and put his pants back on while he waited for Petra's security. He didn't have long to wait before four tuxedo clad men approached. Three from the deck he was on and one dropping down from the deck above to land in front of him. Two were clearly armed - including the swarthy swordweilder in front of him, the other two carried themselves like men who didn't need the such things as bits of metal to do their jobs. If Johann was surprised at the arrival of the men, he gave no indication of it. He simply buckled his belt and smiled as they fell in. The oldest held a hand up to stop the others with him and closed the distance to stand beside the olive skinned man. Vincenzo scrutinized him in the pale light of the moon. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked sternly at the intruder. "Humph. I don't care who you are, if you're here to cause trouble, you can climb right back over that rail behind you." "I've gone to great trouble to avoid causing trouble. I would like to meet with the proprietor, Madame Petra, and I would also like to avail her the opportunity to deny she ever had such a conversation if she wishes. This is not something I can do if I make an appointment and board at the docks. I propose to exchange this for her time," Johann said somewhat smugly as he revealed what his pants had been wrapped around in their waterproof bag. It was a statue of a woman, nude, with her arms stretched above her head. It was an elongated art deco style, such that the whole statue was over a foot and a half in length but only two inches wide at the hips and bust. Although silvery in color, when Vincenzo accepted it he could tell that it was denser than that metal... it was solid platinum, and weighed at least a stone. "Shall I wait here while someone asks if she wishes to speak with Johann?" He asked as he crossed one arm across his chest and stroked his chin with his right hand. Vincenzo realized that this was not the least aggressive posture he could have assumed. Vincenzo hefted the statue in his hands and then gave Johann an appraising look. After a moment he handed the statue off to one of the younger men with him. "Put this in Petra's private office." The weight surprised the young man and Vincenzo snapped. "Carefully!" He then waved all but the swordsman away. "Please inform her that she has a ... special guest." "She will see you. Interestingly enough, you are on her list." He smirked. "Something about a drawing of yours." He jerked his head towards the shadows. "This way. After you went to all this trouble, we can't very well go through the lounge. Quietly, please." Johann nodded. He stepped towards the wall and slide a previously hidden panel aside. Ramon. Lead the way." The disgruntled dueler sheathed his blade and vanished into the passage. Vincenzo motioned Johann in and followed him down the passage lit only by the lantern Ramon now carried. The floors were carpeted and muffled their footsteps. The hidden hallway was just wide enough for them to walk single file and it met a narrow and steep flight of stairs going up. At the top of the stairs was another door, this one opening into a cozy private study. There was a small writing desk on which already set the statue, a settee and a chair apart from the bar cart. Hanging over the settee was a lifelike painting of Tir by moonlight.. Johann moved to one side, to regard Vincenzo with one eye and the painting with the other. Johann padded after him, nearly silently, on bare feet. After a few steps, he no longer left damp footprints behind in the carpet, though his wet shirt had been placed in the plastic bag. He was still wet, but no longer dripping onto the floor. Vincenzo followed him and Ramon continued through to another door, saluting an annoyed Chief of Security, nodded to Johann, and left to return to the crowd. Vincenzo was starting to give him a hard look when the door opened and Petra walked in. She stopped in surprise when she saw her still wet visitor. "Vincenzo, please wait in the other room." She waited until he was gone, though he was none to happy about it, before saying anything. "There are towels in that bathroom behind you," she said with amusement. "Help yourself to a drink. I recommend the brandy." Johann smiled and nodded, and moved towards the bathroom. After drying his hair and upper body, he moved to the bar and poured himself a straight whiskey. "Brandy for you?" he offered. She shook her head to decline. While he did this, she turned to inspect this gift she had heard about. "You have excellent tastes." "I'm glad you approve... even more pleased that you'll have me aboard under the circumstances of my arrival. As I explained to your man, I wanted you to have the option of denying I'd ever set foot aboard tonight," Johann said before sipping his drink. "As I understand it... you do not sell sex here," Johann said as he indicated the ship around them, and the wall with the Tir painting in particular, "but rather an intimate environment. I had hoped to make use of that to have a... rather political conversation with you. Is that acceptable?" She looked at him and sighed. "Somehow, I knew that's what you wanted." Petra moved from the desk to the alcohol and poured herself a glass of wine. "Not my favorite topic of conversation. I understand that makes me a wretched family member as I don't play that game." "I sell lots of things here, Mr. Payne," Petra said as she waved a hand about to indicate the ship. "Food, drink, risks, adventure, sex. Intimacy, however, is on the house if everyone involved is willing." Petra gestured at the seating area. "Sit and tell me what it is that you wish to discuss. No one will disturb us in here." She smiled. "Unless Vincenzo hears things breaking." Johann sat and crossed his bare foot over his knee. He nodded agreeably as she qualified her first statment, and took another sip of his drink before beginning. "First and foremost, I came to ask you if you truly desire to be outside the game, or if this is merely your public position. It would seem that the former is the case?" Johann asked. "Then it would seem my self-appointed task is more difficult. I trust, the neutrality of your business not withstanding, you do at least have an opinion as to whether you would prefer Chaos within Amber, but not such a strong one that you would risk your life and livelyhood for?" he asked in much the same tone. She pursed her lips while running a finger over the curve of the wineglass. "You are asking for a lot of trust, considering I just met you. Expensive gifts do not make a man worthy of that." She paused for a sip of wine then set the glass on the small table beside her. Johann shrugged. Her eyes went to the painting over Johann's head. "Merlin was not the first person of Amber that I met." Hazel eyes flicked down to meet Johann's. "Caine was." She for his response silently. Johann smirked. "In the strictest sense, it is not correct to say I have never met Caine... he is my father," Johann said before taking another sip. His following shrug indicated he probably hadn't seen much of him since that time. Petra looked surprising unnerved at his statment of his paternity. "From this, I might conclude you have either quietly agreed to keep an eye on things in Amber, and to occasionally pass along word to him, or that he somehow ostracized you when you met?" Johann asked, his eyes not leaving her face as she replied. It took a moment before her eyes refocused on him. "Sometimes, I wish he had." "My concern is that things are not moving swiftly enough. In a hundred years, or two hundred, Caine may be ready to make his move... but by then, there will be only a few old men left alive who remember how Amber was. The children are being indoctrinated Chaosian. Revolution now, or purge later," Johann said with a sigh, and made a helpless gesture with his empty hand. This was not the optimist of his writings. He was either frustrated and conflicted, or doing a terribly good impression of those emotions. "But what can you do about it?" Petra asked, spreading her hands. "Don't forget I'm not the only one that never saw Amber in her heyday, and good luck finding a unbiased history book. Sometimes a client will open up and tell us about it, but they have stars in their eyes and only remember the good. The people who *do* remember, they need a tangible banner to rally around. Julian and your father are not that. They are vaguely "out there", resisting. But resistance by absence is not going to get Amber back the way you want it. Perhaps they think they can wait Mandor out, but as you pointed out, the regular citizens don't have the long memories and ability to hold grudges that our family does. This way is slowly becoming the one that are comfortable in." "At the moment, I haven't given up on my writings. In fact, they'll no longer be quite so anonymous. Hopefully, my ideas will be that banner. It is not the same, to have one's view of history reduced to one of two contrasting points of view... but it is better than being forgotten altogether," Johann said before draining his glass and placing it to one side. "I'm hoping that by openly supporting my writings, I can generate a critical mass of people... but that is not something I can measure. You can. In a year, or two... I'm hoping we'll be having another conversation like this one, but that the tides will have shifted. Amber doesn't have enough prisons to arrest everyone..." Johann said with a contemplative look. Petra had seen it many times before... Johann was hoping she approved. "But people are afraid of being one of those tossed into those prisons and forgotten," Petra said after a moment. She rose from her chair and moved over to the desk where she began looking through a drawer. Johann nodded. "I don't mind these stealth conversations of yours," she looked up with a smile as she rose with a handful of trump cards. "But next time, why not call me first?" "It would save a good bit of swimming... and more for the return trip, if your men didn't like the sound of my tale," Johann admitted as he rose from his seat and crossed to accept one of the cards. "Would you like one of mine?" Johann offered before returning to his seat. "Sure," she chuckled. "I'll keep it in my super secret stash." He retrieved it from a leather fold in his pants pocket, and replaced her card in its place. (It is as described on Johann's page.) Petra returned to her seat as well, but still holding a stack of cards. She placed them on the low table between them. The one on top was a place trump, but not for any place he was familiar with that he could tell. "Against my better judgment," she said as she set back. "I find myself liking you. Your writings are passionate and stir in more than one of my staff the desire to go blow up something. Our first meal of the day is never a quiet one because of the heated debates that your writings stirs. I rarely get involved, but I enjoy the debates." She steepled her fingers in front of her. "Other than someone to keep an ear open, what do you need?" "Gunpowder that'll burn in Amber, but that really isn't your department," Johann said with a smirk. "Not by a longshot," she shrugged lightly "Seriously, my only goal this evening was to weigh your neutrality and enlist your support if possible. When the time is right, I'm going to use the Chaosian court system to make my case for me... but I need to seed writings in the right ears first. When the Amber-cum-Chaosian judges, clerks, and other go-betweens start to really worry that they've backed the wrong horse in Chaos... that is when I'll share the rest of my plan with you, and you can decide to be a part of it or not. That should be in about two years," Johann said with the customary earnestness of his writings now apparent. "Very well," she nodded. "Then you won't be needing any of my boltholes," she said with a gesture at the deck on the table. She glanced down at his card that was still in her hand and flipped it over. "Whose work is this?" Johann considered grabbing his belt buckle to show off the engraving, which matched the reverse of the trump. He considered it too vulgar for the present company -- like folk didn't try enough vulgar humor on Petra. "Actually, it is my own. It took me quite a while to go from sketches to the real thing, but they're quite handy... as I'm sure you know," Johann said with a smile. (Johann, at least, will pause here in case you have a follow-up) "Would you rather not talk about meeting Caine?" he asked a few moments later. Petra's look turned sour. "It isn't so much the meeting. It's more I don't buy half of what he's selling. He's been trying to convince me I'm
Johann smirked again. "Unless he has a fondness for daughters, I'd say that proves he is lying right there... we've never spoken, although I think Damien was looking after me on his instructions, at least initially," Johann said as his smirk turned into a smile. "But if he is in league with Mandor or something, I'll eat my hat. He's probably just sticking to the point to not appear false, while prevailing on you to aid in his larger endeavors," he said with a shrug. "Oh, I know he isn't working for Mandor," Petra agreed. "This whole parentage things is just a bit of an irritation is all. I don't look very much like my mother and not a thing like him, but then again, neither does your blonde self." Johann nodded, as he'd been thinking much the same thing. She paused a moment to reclaim her glass. "How well do you know our cousins?" Johann shrugged. "Better than my snipey attacks suggest... except for Chadwick. I was dead on, there," he said as he twirled his index finger at his temple to indicate he thought Chad mad. "Islain and Larissa watched first their father, and then Gerard, get cut down by Chaos... that'll check anyone's nerve, but I'm fairly certain Larissa is waiting for the 'golden moment to strike,' rather than the turncoat I made her out to be in an effort to get her goat," he said with finger quotes, and a smile to soften the insult. "Morgan... I can understand why someone would consider themself loyal to Merlin, but from what I hear he's rather pissed at Caine's colateral damage," he said with a shake of his head. "Again, not -actually- a traitor." "Damien... once, I would have said I knew him better than myself. Probably, he is also waiting for that 'golden moment.' "Merlin... probably isn't crazy, but probably doesn't want Mandor to figure that out," he said with a shrug. "I can't figure Vikund out, which is why I haven't satirized him in particular... either he is working for Caine, or Mandor, he is playing all the sides off of each other, or he gets off on being slimy," he concluded. She nodded slowly. "Strangely enough, other than Merlin and his gaggle of lost boys, Vikund is the one I have the most dealings with. But I can't figure him out either. I trust him enough that he knows I'm a trump artist and I have taken him to Cornaro, but what he knows less about the truth of me or that place than he thinks." "Merlin wasn't always like this, was he?" Petra asked thoughtfully. "I mean, you know how much focus creating Trumps takes and he's a sorcerer- which takes rather more focus I would think. Does no one remember that?" "No, he can't have been. Urban legend has that it has something to do with being initiated into the powers of Chaos and Pattern. As I said, I think it is just a clever act. I hope nobody catches on... Mandor is in charge either way," he opined. "And Mandor pretending to be behind the throne is muted somewhat by the filter of a Merlin with Amber parentage." Petra regarded her glass. "I wonder sometimes if Merlin's act is self preservation or if he may actually be on Amber's side and bidding his time. Then again, he could just be completely under Mandor's mental manipulations. I've also heard he may be drugged, but I'm not sure I buy that completely." "Well, I'm glad you don't... some of the versions I've heard imply it is you and Vikund who are filling him with drugs and whispers. I rather doubted it, as Mandor wouldn't let such a thing pass... unless Vikund is, and you aren't, and Mandor is complicit," Johann suggested. Petra slowly lowered her drink, blinked at him and then, after a long pause, burst out laughing. "By the gods, No one notices that Merlin was this way years before I got here?" She wiped her eye, still chuckling. "Well, I suppose VIkund's relatively rapid rise from whore's son to courtier is bound to be the subject of tons of gossip, and I know he has enemies of his own in the Court. I can't really see the him I know doing that, but I suppose if I was in his place and I were ruthless enough and determined enough, I might. Which is too bad, because I kinda want to like him a bit more than I do." Johann nodded as if he understood what she meant. "I don't want to keep you too long from your normal routine, and I appreciate your time in answering my questions... but is there anything else I can answer?" Johann asked. "Just one thing for now," Petra said with a slight smile. "Do you trust any one of those cousins you just named?" "Oh, maybe Damien... but that is about it," he said with a chuckle. "That's very sad," Petra said solemnly. "But very wise, I suppose." She set her glass aside once more and rose. "For a change I don't mean to be rude, but I do have a business to run. So if there's nothing else..." Johann shook his head. "No, I think it is time to say good evening," he said as he rose from his chair and offered his hand. He shook her hand firmly yet gently, then took a step back and contemplated another trump from his pocket. In what could be viewed as either a firm faith in her security staff or an act of supreme trust in Joahnn, Petra collected her statue and left the room to Joahnn and his multicolored exit. [and I always add these little tidbits for Mel] Outside the door, Petra looked up into the somber eyes of the waiting Vincenzo. "I hope you know what you're doing, mi tesoro," he whispered. "So do I," she replied with a strained smile. "Eterno Ambrato." "Indeed."
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