Private Conversations

[dominioned]

The confessional before you is ornate and well maintained, ebony colored wood embellished with the visage of two angels. A jet black curtain separates the confessional from the rest of the Church, offering a surprising degree of privacy to any eavesdroppers nearby. Unlike the rest of Krakow, the inside is dimly lit by a small light bulb securely attached to the ceiling which emits a faint red light. While the atmosphere isn't exactly cozy, it is private.

A smooth voice calls out to you once you've sat down, familiar enough to identify the speaker despite the partition between you.

"Welcome welcome. I take it something is on your mind?"

We're in a museum now, Harry.

Comments

[dominioned]

That's the entire point.

[ He straightens up, folding his hands neatly on the wood. ]

But I answered your question, so it is your turn to answer mine. What recent events do you speak of?

[bawcock]

You've got me there.

[ Not that he can fully tell what Rembrandt means. He's about to press on it when, in a twist, Rembrandt presses on him instead. ]

I had a feeling before, but... you really don't know, do you? I thought you were always, or maybe I should say almost always, watching us.

[dominioned]

[ Ever so slightly he tilts his head to the left. ]

If I did that, this would all be considerably less amusing.

[bawcock]

I hope whatever you're getting out of your deal with the Lady is a little better than momentary amusement.

[ 'cause if you ask him, that's a bad score. Needs more shiny, thx. ]

Anyway, I might as well answer your question. Remind me what it was again?

[dominioned]

It is.

[ Where it's shiny or not... ]

When we first started speaking you mentioned "recent events". What events do you speak of?

[bawcock]

Good. If we have to be put through hell, I'd rather it be for more than one big, fat chuckle.

[ He was gonna say guffaw but Rembrandt is bad at new words. ]

Oh, right. That. Let's see... Since you only answered part of my question, it's only fair if I do the same. But what would half even be? [ Putting his hand at his chin thoughtfully. Hm, hm. ]

Oh, I know! A while ago, everything in the museum started lighting up. That's how it all started.

[dominioned]

[ Pointedly he does chuckle. ]

Did it? [ A beat. ] And what happened after?

[bawcock]

Sorry, but I figure that's about all that bit was worth. As much as I don't mind telling you more, if we're going back and forth then this seems like the fairest way to do it. [ Rembrandt brought up the turns stuff first, he's just adhering to it.

Mostly because he figures this is Rembrandt's latest whim. And 'cause it doesn't hurt him any, he doesn't mind going along with it for a while. ]

Or we could just forget this turn business and talk like normal people. Your choice.

[dominioned]

...like normal people.

[ ............ ]

Very well then. You know, you are the only one who doesn't just accept matters as they are.

[bawcock]

[ Strange reaction, that. He can't tell what it means just yet, or if it means anything at all, but he'll remember it. ]

Am I? [ Gesturing with his left hand. Oh, how he's missed gesturing! ] Honestly, that's pretty hard to imagine. This is a colorful bunch you've got here, I'd even go so far as to call them "eccentric."

[ Tbh, he kinda likes them. Reminds him of downtown Heliodor. ]

[dominioned]

You are. [ He leans back a bit, his proper posture fading. ]

And it is true—while I have fielded a fair share of complaints, no one has actually does anything other than whine. And several people I talk to are respectful, or their version of it at any rate.

[bawcock]

Jeez. When you put it that way, it almost sounds like you're insulting me.

[ Rude, you're not supposed to call him out for being rude. A beat, then he glances away. ]

But even I have to admit, I don't fit in with the more genteel crowd. I'm one of the dregs of society, and when your stock is as low as mine is you learn to take what you can without compromising.

[dominioned]

[ Too bad looking away means Erik's gonna miss his cheeky smile. ]

Ah, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing. I've seen both high society and the underbelly, and while I prefer the former, spending all my time there would be incredibly boring.

[bawcock]

[ It's fine, he's seen Rembrandt smile plenty of times before!! Not missin' out on anything. ]

No kidding! I thought you seemed too posh for a priest, now I know why. [ Okay, maybe not like posh-posh. He's obviously no royal. And he obviously can be crass. It's also obvious he's a really bad dude.

... he's starting to wonder what part of Rembrandt makes him seem refined, honestly. ] But you know, hearing that... I can't help but think you're a bit eccentric yourself. Most people wouldn't bother with street urchins when they can consort with nobles.

[dominioned]

So I've been told. For any measure of the world, my peers and I don't see eye to eye on many things, particularly in our taste. But there's something to be said of overcoming adversity that spoiled nobles have difficult with, among other things.

[ Yeah he's just a weirdo confirmed. ]

[bawcock]

Now I see how it is. It isn't that you like rubbing elbows with the downtrodden—it's more like you enjoy watching them scurry around.

Kind of the same way you're watching us do the same. [ Watching people as sport puts a distasteful spin on it but, well, some people are like this. Plus, he always knew Rembrandt was secretly laughing at them.

He gives a very disappointed shrug. ]

[dominioned]

Now, now, that's only partially true. If I wanted to be a mere spectator I wouldn't get my hands dirty as I have. It's quite different from what is on the line for you, but I do have a stake in this, aside from any passing amusement you all may provide.

[ To emphasize his words he wags a finger nonchalantly. ]

[bawcock]

Sure wish you'd go ahead tell me what that stake was. It'd make it a whole lot easier to believe you.

And if not believe, I could at least try to understand where you're coming from. [ Not expecting anything though. They've done the motive song and dance and he's been left wanting every time. ]

[dominioned]

I have to have some secrets, you know? [ Pressing a gloved finger against his lips, he laughs. ]

My stake is my payment, but I assume you have already surmised as much. Does a thief really not understand doing whatever it takes to secure their prize?

[bawcock]

[ Please, Rembrandt, you're practically a secret factory. But he receives a slight, worried smile in response to his laugh anyway. ]

Point taken. There's at least one treasure out there I'd give anything for—and, sometimes, I want it so badly it even hurts. [ His smile fades as he speaks. Then, with a sigh, he leans back against the confessional wall. ]

At the same time, it doesn't feel fair when with a wave their hand and the flash of some lights someone can magically tell you what your deepest, darkest desires are. Especially when you can't do the same for them.

[dominioned]

Ah well, these circumstances are slightly irregular. It's not like I acquired that knowledge just now, it was done prior. All I did was make it easier to recall the specifics, that's all. [ That might be a comfort and it might not, the assuaging smile likely not helping any. ]

Nonetheless, if you possessed such an ability you would be welcome to try it on me.

[bawcock]

[ Not really comforting!! ] That just makes it more mysterious.

And unfortunately for me, I've got nothing like that in my kit. My pal the Luminary, on the other hand... he might be able to do it.

[dominioned]

I do entertain guesses, you know.

[ It's in his nature to always push when he could very well just sit. ]

Oh?

[bawcock]

Don't I know it. You've been "entertaining" my guesses since week one!

[ Which is why if he had any, he'd say them. ]

"Oh," he says. If I didn't know better, I'd say that sounds like genuine interest.

[dominioned]

[ This is also why Erik gets farther along than most other people have in getting useful (?) info. ]

Are you implying my interest so far has been insincere?