I - Truths and Lies [Mostly Open]

[iceheart_imperial]

WHO: Ysanne Poirier, You
WHERE: Northwestern Imperium, Elsewhere by Appointment (Am flexible!)
WHEN: First week of the month
WHAT: Various prompts, mostly open - find one that works for you! Looking for all early CR here: Imperium business, meetings with Rebel cell leaders, diplomacy with other powers, recruitment for the faction, everything! Oh, and one assassination attempt with associated skullduggery.
WARNINGS: Violence in one closed prompt, will add as necessary.




Prompt A - Arrivals/Diplomatic Reception [Open]

On the whole, she would much rather be doing paperwork. The pressing of the flesh, the putting on of a friendly face without more important things to do - it grated. It was, of course, the price she paid for her position. Being a public figure made you more than yourself, and no matter how genuinely felt an emotion, there was always this element of performance. On the whole, she'd much rather be dueling with Parliament. Ever since the Emperor had agreed to the Parliament having a role in the day-to-day administration of the state, proposing bills and such, the game was much more interesting. It was ironic, really. The moment she'd given them more teeth, they'd turned around and tried to bite her.

But such was any sort of legislative assembly - messy, riven by cross-interests, and prone to shifting factionalism.

She loved it.

But, today, she was greeting new arrivals. It was the Emperor's command, and she obeyed. He saw wisdom in it that she did not. She wore a black suit with high but no tie. From the vest pocket, an old bronze watch-chain hung. Occasionally, out of habit, her hand would stray to the chain, fingers feeling the length as if making sure it were still there.

----

Later, it was a reception - a dinner and the like for diplomats, traders, and others to meet and see what profit could be had, in any of the various ways that could be taken. For that she wore a black dress, setting herself apart from the day-to-day fashion in the Imperium. She always made a point of it.

She mingled, a glass of champagne in her hand. This was the in-between: social, yet on her toes - you never knew who would approach you, after all.


Prompt B - Business of State [Open]

Those ushered into her office would find it far less grand than they might be expecting. There were no grand balconies - not even any windows. Though it was appointed in deep woods and old-style furniture, there was an absence of luxury to it. On the wood paneling behind her desk was a grand portrait of The Emperor, in suitably respectful style.

The only other portrait, facing him from over the door, was of an older man, with rheumy eyes. All the other decoration was a bar globe of considerable age, and a hand-drawn map of the island of Miquelon, her home. There were framed pictures on her desk, carefully kept facing her. Her parents, and another of a young woman, smiling, with a mass of freckles and short almost orange hair. She was holding a Turbot.

The Prime Minister looked up as the person entered, laying aside her pen. There was no sign of a computer.

"Ah, right on schedule."


Prompt C - The Coming of Storms [Open to Jane Foster and Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier]

She waited, alone, in the forest. Discovery Island was, she reflected, beautiful this time of year. If only her purpose there could be called beauteous. She watched the dock below her, as the small boat approached. The entire thing rankled her, set her on edge. She was taking an appalling risk. But whatever it was was coming out of the White Tower, and that made it worth the risk. There was still, and always, the overriding priority of vengeance for her.

She'd had great difficulty, in recent months, developing assets within their territory. Offers of wealth didn't go as far as they used to, and most of the people who could be appealed to on ideological grounds were already in a state of rebellion against the Tower - or against everyone. So when one of her few assets had contacted her with a very short, very terse message...she had given it great heed.

Discovery Island - Meet Time Beta - No Guards within a kilometer.

And so, here she was. There were guards on the island, spread out, watching other approaches. She herself had a gun on her, though that was for appearances more than anything. She wrapped her coat around herself a bit more tightly, wind whipping at her hair. And watched the boat as it reached the small jetty.

Whatever it was, it had to be important.

Comments

[eightfoldlight]

Yenh hides her disdain for the talk about glory and greatness within another sip of scotch. This empire is objectively less terrible—that wasn't the issue. It's the hollowness and secrecy that bother her.

"Mm, it seems like a lot," she agrees. "But the best leaders are those who don't love power. They're less likely to believe they have all the answers."

[iceheart_imperial]

"Then I must be doing at least somewhat well, because most days I don't feel I've any answers at all." She gestured at the portrait of the old man. "I always wonder if he did. He unified thirty-six states, and created a strong nation where before there had only been infighting and chaos. A constitutional monarchy, too, not just a dictatorship under his boot heel. But I do wonder. Was he sure of every step? Or just being as clever as he could with the moments history handed him? Or both at once, maybe?"

She swirled the liquid slowly, eyes focusing in the far distance. The easier not to focus on the other woman, who was proving quite distracting. Focus.

"I'm not sure some days how I wound up here. I'm certain I was never meant for this. Piles of paperwork, lives depending on the simplest decisions. Diplomacy to carry out, and above all showing a face of complete confidence - so the millions of citizens of the Imperium can sleep without anxiety. I envy you your freedom of action."

[eightfoldlight]

Yenh listens. It's the same flavor of musing she's heard from Ser Aymeric and General Raubahn and a number of other influential people. No matter the wording, it's always a potent reminder of that very thing at the end Ysanne invokes.

"I don't blame you. I love what I do." She smiles as she says it. "But don't think all the grass is greener. I have responsibilities, too."

[iceheart_imperial]

"I know, though I have little idea what they are."

That smile is...intoxicating. Free, wild. Her cheeks redden, just a little.

"In fact, you are quite the mystery."

[eightfoldlight]

"Truly? You've read the summaries, but I could always arrange to have copies made of my whole archive," Yenh begins, then rethinks Ysanne's meaning. There are a few different ways to interpret it, and Yenh only likes a couple of them.

She tilts her head. "Or do you mean something else?"

[iceheart_imperial]

"I can mean multiple things," she says, with faux defensiveness, hiding her smile behind a sip of her drink. Which, by itself, might go some way to alleviating any potential worries.

"I miss it. The freedom. Fewer, but more immediate responsibilities. Adventure. And you are very interesting, which I think is obvious."

[eightfoldlight]

Yenh is set at ease enough to offer a playful smile in return. The guard hardly drops for anyone these days, but she is inclined to accept Ysanne's words as an expression of earnest longing.

"Obvious? Oh, I don't know. I'm a wanderer who's good with magic and forgets how to be afraid of death. Maybe that's interesting," Yenh begins, completely aware of herself as she leans forward against her forearms. Raising her eyebrows, she prompts Ysanne, "But let's say the emperor offered you six months of leave. What would you do with that time?"

[iceheart_imperial]

"Music," she replies, almost before the question is done, and without a moment's hesitation.

"Six months without consequence? Music. I'd dedicate myself to it again. Dust off my violin, re-tune my voice as it once was. Maybe see if time has acted on it like a fine wine."

[eightfoldlight]

Yenh raises her eyebrows, but her surprise quickly gives way again to that pleasant warmth.

"I hadn't expected any particular answer, but I have to say I wouldn't have guessed that. Vocals and violins," Yenh muses, taking a quick sip. "A famous fact, even on our homeworld, is that your emperor is a lover of the arts. If you wanted time for practice in your schedule, I imagine he would consider the request."

[iceheart_imperial]

"I am chained to this desk by forces of much greater power than him," she replied, a bit sadly.

"But I was a singer once. Headlined at a nightclub, as it happens. Every single night." A smile spread across her face. "I'm French, you see...well, not by birth, perhaps, but I am regardless...we had an appreciation of such things, where I come from."

[eightfoldlight]

Yenh nods, imagining a younger Ysanne singing to some dark and romantic pre-revolt club. It's easy to imagine it. Strangely so. She can't actually recall where or how she would have seen such a sight. In a movie, that much she's sure about, but she's had little time to indulge in Earth's old media over the last eight years. She could have sworn none of the movies she's seen took place in France.

"The desk doesn't stop you from singing a few bars at your leisure, I should hope," she quips as she takes another sip.

[iceheart_imperial]

"I do try, but it's not the same as it was," she said, with a fond smile. "The low lights, me in a black dress, just a microphone in front of me. My God, I felt naked in front of an audience - just me, and my voice, and them out there, unseen."

Her eyes were a little misty, lost in the past.

"Because here, all these other things intrude on my mind. Then, it was just me and the song. Mmm." She shook her head. "And oh I was good. I could sing Piaf that would bring men who had lived in Paris their whole lives to tears." She grinned.

"But then again, there will never be another Piaf. Nor an Aznavour. Nothing melts a French heart like them."

One of the few things that survived from that time was her pride at being French. At the culture. The heritage she had been adopted so lovingly into.

[eightfoldlight]

Yenh listens well, nodding along even to the references she doesn't explicitly know. There are a number imPorts who can speak first-hand of the old world, but only a handful who have lived on Earth for so long that they're closer to the locals than the imPorts, like Ysanne. It's a perspective she values.

"If I may be bold... Why are you here? There's still some France left out there."

[iceheart_imperial]

Unconsciously, her hand pulled out a pocket watch from her waistcoat, turning it over.

"There are debts to be paid," she said, finally, after a long, distracted moment. "And such important things to do. Then...then I'd go home. If I make it that far."

Which she gravely doubts.

[eightfoldlight]

A pregnant pause if there ever was one. Yenh exhales, her voice going quiet. "It's always something like that, isn't it?"

She considers the countless people she's met, who confided similar sentiments. She doesn't know Ysanne that well, but she knows the shape of the story. An otherwise normal person, caught up by a pivotal moment or a chain reaction of events...

"May I ask what happened?"

[iceheart_imperial]

"Such is life on a broken continent, filled with neo-colonialist states. States created for exploitation will, somehow, harm the people they dominate."

She's amazed she's this forthcoming. Or that at the second question her mouth automatically opens to answer. Why does she trust this woman, so easily?

Images flash through her head again, of laughter as naked bodies tangle in sheets. God, it makes her yearn and that is a dangerous feeling, not felt for some time.

"I...was in love, once. Thanks to the White Tower, I no longer am."

[eightfoldlight]

Yenh raises her glass to her evaluation of the plight of the Americas, tipping the remaining liquor back in a burning gulp. It's much stronger than she would choose to drink in a social drinking situation.

She winces, first for the alcohol and then for Ysanne's reveal. She has a number of very choice words about White Tower, none of which she ever says unless she's sure there are no recording devices, even if present company is sympathetic. It's not Ysanne that she's worried about.

Yenh fiddles with the empty glass in her hand. "My condolences. It's... never easy. My first love died protecting me. I still wake up from dreams about what could have been."

[iceheart_imperial]

"It was years ago," she begins, by way of mitigation - but stops.

"But I carry her with me every day. And she died the same. Pushing me off the boat instead of saving herself. Some godforsaken White Tower experiment, never even amounted to anything. Just enough to end my life as I knew it."

She drained her glass, thumping it down with a strange mix behind her eyes of sadness, longing, and anger.

"I don't get dreams of what could have been, just what was. It was perfect. I cannot imagine finding such happiness again."

[eightfoldlight]

Yenh regards Ysanne with understanding. On several levels. She snorts humorlessly. "You want to take down White Tower for her."

She hurries along, fully sympathetic. "I get it, better than you know. I killed the ruler of Ishgard and his Knights of the Round, in exchange for Haurchefant's life."

That was a decisively blunt and vastly oversimplified version of the story, but she doesn't care right now.

[iceheart_imperial]

"For a start," she replied. "If it weren't them, it would have been somebody else. But it will make a start. A necessary one."

[eightfoldlight]

"As a representative from the Seekers of the New Dawn, I categorically refrain from involvement in any faction's political goings-on."

She winks, raising her empty glass to her mouth and only then remembering she'd polished it off. She lowers it again.

[iceheart_imperial]

She stood up, grabbing hold of the bottle and refilling her own before offering the same to Yenh, before sitting down again.

"Well said, though I sincerely hope the time for such phrases is coming to an end. I've had my fill of duplicity and carefully chosen words."

[eightfoldlight]

She politely accepts a smaller amount than before.

"I should hope so," Yenh agrees with blunt enthusiasm. "Neutrality doesn't suit me. Before I was imPorted, I was always willing to fight, head on, no matter the danger. The only reason I'm not with the Resistance is that I know war will not save this world."

[iceheart_imperial]

"Entirely true," she responded.

She was, of course, funneling weapons, money, and logistical support to the cells she felt were malleable - but violent revolution wasn't her goal. A mass movement was.

"For all its flaws, what this continent needs is to regain the democracy it once had. A rebirth, not a re-colonization."

[eightfoldlight]

"You're right about that," Yenh says, airy and light. Her full opinion is tied to deeply and quietly into the circumstances with Ysanne's emperor. There are secrets that cannot be uttered. They aren't the same as the one secret she's painfully aware circulates as a rumor around the empire. "Returning the world to the people is vital."