dominioned | Private Conversations

Private Conversations

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.

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[Huh, weird...]

I assumed it was an alias. But my assumption was also that you named yourself that because you enjoy that painter's work. So you've poked holes in my theory and proved me wrong.

[He doesn't sound particularly bothered by it; he's very used to being wrong by now.]

Is it your real name, then?

Oh no, not at all. Rembrandt Meijer is my current name, no aliases or lies involved.

But it is also not my real name, either. [ It's been a while since they talked and several things have happened, and several things haven't, but regardless of the cause he seems much more eager to play ball now, as it were. His gaze is fully focus on Iago now, the pamphlet forgotten. ]

[He's noticed; Rembrandt hasn't asked him any questions in return just yet. Iago's no longer focused on anything else either, simply watching Rembrandt's reactions carefully.]

I see. It is a nice name, so you chose well.

[He admittedly has no knowledge of the painter, but you definitely look like a "Rembrandt", okay.]

Why did you abandon your original name?

Wrong again. [ About what surely, but he doesn't leave an opening to reply and it may not be needed perhaps— ]

I've told you, haven't I? I am whatever the Lady needs me to be.

[...]

Is it because you want to be whatever the Lady needs of you, or is it because she's forcing you?

[That might not be the exact right way to word it, but it's probably close enough.]

[ Iago is that concern? Whether it is or not, Rembrandt laughs. ]

Those are both true yet also false. You've asked a lot of questions and it's been such a long time since we spoke, I hope you think I hadn't forgotten how our conversations used to go. [ His smile grows, barbed. ]

Who would ever enter into a relationship that would put themselves at a disadvantage?

I was wondering how long it would take for you to bring it up.

[Don't worry, he's smirking; he knows.]

I can't imagine you would willingly enter such a relationship, but maybe you didn't have a choice in it at all.

But I have been terribly rude, so do excuse me for questioning you so much without anything in return. What questions do you have for me?

You insult me, Iago. [ Said airily and with a wave of his hand. ]

We may continue to talk like "normal people" if you like. But just know that I haven't forgotten, that's all. But if we're going to continue speaking we should have proper seating, don't you agree?

[...Well, that's new. He inclines his head a bit at that before nodding.]

Of course, there's no sense standing around and having a conversation. Do you have somewhere in mind?

Here is fine, but allow me to make it more suitable. [ Again he waves his hand, but this time it's accompanied with wisps of shadows that have seemingly sprung forth from the movement, coalescing into a table and two chairs. The furniture set is jet black, but perhaps it would be weirder if it was anything else.

Without any fanfare he sits down and crosses his legs. ]

This is much more fitting.

[Huh! Look at that... It's crazy that Rembrandt is capable of this, summoning furniture certainly isn't something Iago can do.]

Impressive. I can certainly approve of the aesthetic.

[goth as hell, a++

Anyway, anything particularly noteworthy about the furniture set as he sits down?]

Is this magic or some other sort of ability?

I don't have a favorite color, but I think black suits me best. [ It is ornate that's for sure, and the material it's made of doesn't seem to be either metal or wood. Most importantly, it's much more comfortable than it looks. ]

How would you differentiate the two?

[Ooh, comfy. Not metal or wood though, huh... Definitely cool. Maybe Rembrandt can teach him how to make furniture appear out of nowhere, that'd be neat.]

Excellent taste, then. [goth aesthetic is best aesthetic] As for your question... Well, there isn't nearly as much of a difference between them here as there is in my world. "Magic" requires a conduit - a spell tome or staff, typically - and is channeled, while abilities are something innate that don't require any sort of casting.

[A pause and then he shrugs.]

At least, that's how I've defined it back home. Things are quite a bit different here. Illusio should technically be considered magic, but it doesn't require a cast. That's not to mention any of the other worlds, with vastly different methods of utilizing magic, if it even exists in the first place.

[...this is a really long-winded reply to say "idk man".]

I'm curious if you differentiate between them any.

[ He brings a hand to his face, tapping a finger against his cheek while leaning back in the chair. ]

Most "magic" I encountered prior to meeting all of you was common sleight of hand, or illusions based in deceit, not actual magical ability. Humans have always been fascinated with the supernatural, ever since stories and tales were passed on from lips to parchment. Their desire for more—power, knowledge, however you call it, has remained constant throughout however.

But moving back to the original topic, the answer is not in particular. I am capable of what I am not because anyone taught me, or because of a spell or tome, rather they are a facet of my existence, as much a part of me as your hands and locks of hair.

[He nods at that.]

I see. Your powers continue to fascinate me as always, Rembrandt. Perhaps when this is all over, I'll have the opportunity to learn more about them.

[But that's neither here nor there, and it's reminded him of the reason he was planning on seeking Rembrandt out later on.]

I have a... request of you, I suppose. I understand that I'm in no position to be making requests, but this is something I would ask of you if things don't go how I'm expecting them to. Will you hear me out, at least?

We shall see.

[ He visibly brightens up at the mention of a request. ]

I don't see why not, but do not consider this acquiescence that I will carry out the request. [ He waves his hand for Iago to continue. ]

Oh, of course, I am fully aware that it may not be something you're able to do.

[But. With that said.]

While I don't anticipate this happening, I greatly prefer to have a plan in place in case things don't go the way I'm expecting. [Nothing has gone the way he's expecting since he woke up here.] So my request is this: if Rideaux kills me and they're successful in voting for him, I would appreciate it if you made his death as agonizing as possible.

[Before now he's been fairly controlled, but once that's out there his expression goes dark and wild in a way it usually doesn't get.]

I want him to beg for mercy. I want him to break. He deserves it. If I die, I want to drag him down with me in the most humiliating and horrifying manner possible. Make him suffer.

[...Ah, he's being a little too intense, isn't he...]

Of course, as I said, I don't foresee this happening. Rideaux isn't stupid enough to attempt something like that right now, anyway.

[ Oh. His reaction at first is subtle, just the barest inclination of his head as he leans forward. A thin smile finds its way onto his lips as Iago continues to speak as it often does, but there's something different in its veneer compared to usual. What isn't subtle is how his eyes have inexplicably shifted from his usual caramel to red. ]

My, my, what a wanton request. Your hatred of him has grown from a seed to a full bloom with more to spare. This is certainly in my power of course, and I doubt the Lady would be opposed. But I do hate to get my hands dirty without proper cause.

As we are speaking in hypotheticals of course, allow me to offer one of my own. In this instance I would be happy to undertake this agreement given an incentive. But this would be impossible if such a situation were to come to pass, at least without proper planning.

I think you know what I am interested in, do you not? And I find it highly likely that you take notes, both in the meetings and out.

[Red eyes... Fascinating.]

You're right. I loathe him. If I had my magic, I would have killed him already. [Dislikes: being talked down to.] He outlived his usefulness long ago, and should he decide he's done playing nice, then so am I. I refuse to let him think he's won.

[Is it a good thing or a bad thing that most of Illusio's secrets were revealed in the first trial? That he was given a power he couldn't easily exploit to kill without proper planning?]

My soul, you mean? You would want that in exchange for this, am I correct?

[It's not a yes or no, just a clarification.]

...you would give up your soul for vengeance you wouldn't be able to witness yourself? [ His smile is downright pointy, literally. Since have his incisors been so long? ]

[Gods, Rembrandt is terrifying. He is the last person Iago wants to make an enemy of.]

You're right, I wouldn't.

[That gets him to settle and he shrugs a bit.]

As much as I would like that vengeance, if I can't see it, it's certainly not worth my soul.

[He's not entirely clear on exactly how souls work and all that, but he's pretty damn sure giving up his soul means giving up a shot at whatever afterlife the ghosts have and he'd rather not risk erasing himself entirely just to screw Rideaux over.]

Rideaux's suffering would be worth quite a lot to me, but not that much. And again, this was all hypothetical, since I doubt he'd be stupid enough to kill me right now.

[A couple more weeks and maybe he'd need to be worried, but it sounds like things are going to end soon anyway.]

Of course, of course. This hypothetical scenario was filled with several assumptions, after all. [ He leans back, folding his hands neatly on his lap. ]

The most grievous being that souls linger after their vessel has died.

Of course. I assume you would have to be present at the time of death to take the soul anyway, which is a bit much to ask.

[ghosts, what ghosts......... but also he doesn't really know how souls work so who knows maybe those aren't even their souls???? mysteries.]

What makes you say that?

[ what ghosts indeed. ]

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