Difference between revisions of "Logs:Making A Deal"

It's right around the dinner hour, which means that the living caverns are packed -- and the storerooms are most definitely empty. Or mostly empty, anyway. Devaki is in one of them, staring at the various contents with a kind of expression of puzzled amazement. It's by no coincidence he's here, for a whispered comment made a day or two before allowed that he would be here, now. He's taking advantage of his presence, and starts to rummage through the contents of clothes, looking for a suitable new shirt.

Raum isn't too obvious as he makes his way through the caverns; or at least he doesn't stalk down the aisles and yell for Devaki. He saunters instead, meandering through the shelves of things on his way further back, until he finds hismelf approaching the other exile. "Sneaky, sneaky," he announces himself with a smirk.

"Do you think this shirt makes me look too--" Devaki straightens in response to Raum's words, holding up a striped shirt and 'modelling' it in front of him. "--much like an idiot?" There's amusement in his voice, though the slight tip of head seems to indicate he's waiting for an answer from Raum, all the same.

Raum eyes Devaki, eyes the shirt. Eyes Devaki. "Don't think it's the shirt's doing, at any rate," he finally drawls. "Shouldn't go trying to scapegoat it, just for being... something." The metaphor fails, and he mostly just gestures at the stripey thing like that's going to explain it. Fashion wittiness, not his strong suit.

Devaki appears to accept the comment -- and any insult -- with good enough grace, probably since he pretty much invited it. "Point." He flings the shirt back into the pile and straightens to regard Raum. He's not one to mess about, it seems, since he comments, "Riorde said you could be trusted -- to a degree. I wish I knew what you did to inspire such -- esteem of you." There's a slight smirk at the end of it. "Though she did have a good point. You're not an Other, anymore. We-- the islanders, are."

For that, Raum only smiles, and doesn't give away whatever it was he did. "Girl took a liking to me, I guess. Dashing good looks--or just not inbred like the rest of you people," he notes, with a shrug. As for the latter-- "I guess I'm sort of the middle ground. Not you and not them either."

The inbred comment, predictably, earns a reaction from Devaki, a narrowing of eyes and a quick flash of anger that he manages to conceal -- or maybe control -- a beat later. "Not of them, either," he picks up, his voice mostly neutral, though sharp hearing would detect a trace of that lingering anger. "Do you have plans for yourself, Raum? To return to your... Lord? Remain here?" He bends and begins resuming his hunt through the pile of clothes, perhaps to give the other man a chance to consider.

"Usually have a plan, even if it's just sittin back and watching it all play out," Raum notes. He takes a step back, to lean up against the shelves behind him. "Can't say as I'm in a hurry to go back, no," he admits with a lift of his shoulders. "He's probably already found himself a replacement, forgot all about little old me."

"So that's your current plan? Sit and watch?" There's a neutrality still to Devaki's words, though a faint hint of surprise and disappointment, perhaps, that might be visible in his expression, but since he's crouched and hunting through clothes would be difficult to determine. "You made yourself useful to him, though. indispensable, if you will," he seems amused by the word, and glances up at Raum to determine the man's reaction, too.

"Don't like that one?" Raum doesn't sound overconcerned. "Not sure I have any reason to do anything else. Don't care much for the Weyr, but your people didn't exactly inspire a lot of loyalty, either. Not that I'm not eternally grateful for you feeding me and all." And not that he can't sound a little dry about the whole thing, too. "Though go ahead and make your offer; no point in beating around the bush."

"Could you blame us, really? Given everything we'd been through--" Devaki's hands spread, which seems to serve for a silent apology, or probably the closest thing that's likely to be given by an islander. The latter comment elicits a chuckle from the islander. "And here I thought I was being obvious." With a shake of his head, he says, "I've a feeling you're good at investigating things. I need someone to do some investigation and find the truth -- such as there is. If you find something of use, there'll be more work for you. The sort of thing that, I'd guess, you'd be good at. And enjoy." The youth watches the older man evenly. "If you're amenable, we can negotiate terms and I'll give you the full details. If not," he shrugs.

"In what you want? Sure," says Raum. "In what's in it for me?" He shrugs. His fingers tap idly on the shelf for a moment while he appraises Devaki. Eventually, he smirks. "All right, I'm interested."

Devaki maintains relatively neutral stance while Raum appraises him, though when the other indicates his interest, there's the faintest exhales of relief. "What's in it for you is part of the negotiation," he allows, with a grin. "You tell me. I would guess," he tips his head down somewhat, as if contemplating in that very moment, though it's unlikely he hasn't thought of it: "That what you want is to be allowed a certain level of freedom in being attached to prestige -- but also of challenge in your life. What I want is to return the Blood of the islanders to its rightful place. Should I get what I want, you will have what you want. Unless you've a counter proposal?"

"No, no. I'd say you've summed it up all right," agrees Raum, with a grin. "Just, one thing." He holds up a finger to indicate this. "How squeamish are you?"

"I lived on the island my whole life. I've watched people I loved and didn't love die. Sometimes right in front of me. I've done things for the good of the islanders that I-- wouldn't wished to choose otherwise. How squeamish am I?" Devaki seems to consider that a beat. "There would be very little I wouldn't consider, to return my people to our rightful place."

Raum snorts. "Everybody /sees/ people die," he waves that off, but otherwise seems to accept Devaki's pronouncements. "So what's the first step, then, boss? I've never done a successful coup before."

There's a slight hint of bemusement at the title, though Devaki's quick to focus on the matter at hand. "Proof. Proof that even those on the mainland cannot refute. You should talk with Van-- V'teri. We've been taking trips to River Bend Hold, where there are galleries of Lord Holders past who bear a striking resemblance to the islanders... and to Van himself. We've been looking but," he spreads his hands. "I know nothing of the matters of Holds, Van little more. You, I think, would have more success there. Some hint to link their lineage to ours. Or that the exile took place. Someone who remembers, something, as unlikely as that is. I can give you the names of all of the islanders who were exiled, but it is the Blood we must link."

"Get me that list, then," agrees Raum with a nod. "And I'll get you your evidence. That all for now?" He's straightening up, turning as though to head on to the living cavern now. After all, man's got to eat.

"I'll have it to you by tonight," Devaki promises, and as Raum turns to leave, he adds as an offhand comment, "It would be -- beneficial -- to find out who might not be that happy with Lord Rynien." There's a blandness in his tone, though he doesn't elaborate further, assuming the astute mainlander will be able to determine the next step.

Raum agrees, without looking back, "I expect it would be." Then he's gone, off to go eat, and then begin wreaking havoc, like as not.