[This response is just suspicious enough that Nikos manages to put aside all of the thought of Aunt Stanze and most of the thought of Marisol, and instead narrow his eyes in a look only a sibling (tricked many times into participating in something, done his share of the tricking back) could wear.
Prince Fulgencio [ Barbeta, of the Treviso Barbetas, ] might work with us, but he wants to speak in person, and since we’re.
[ Oligarch-adjacent? ]
Since Marisol is busy. [ With whatever. He’s not yet fully worried about her. She’s invincible. ] We’re the next best tool for implying he can’t fuck us over without someone in Antiva fucking him back. [ He pauses, then adds, with grudging self-deprecation, because he would rather not but maybe it will butter Nikos up a little, if the grudging part doesn’t cancel it out— ] No one wants me making decisions about money alone. For some reason.
[Any other conversation and Nikos would seize on that opportunity like a snake on a mouse, strip all of the meat off it, and use its empty hide as a puppet to perform a cruel puppetshow demonstrating the Incompetancies of Kostos. His response is instead nearly absent, an automatic response to an open target.
This part of this conversation started with reference to the status that Nikos has rejected, and then Marisol--who Nikos is worried about, angry about, torn up like someone took a fucking carving knife to his insides--and then he circles back to Fulgencio, lets the name takes shape in his mind.
His scowl blackens.]
Only when it comes to giving you any kind of financial authority. Prince Fulgencio is a royal prick. Did you know? A bastard among bastards. What is it he's meant to be doing for the Inquisition besides smearing his shit on the doorstep? We're looking for loans among the Barbetas now? We'd do better shilling on the street. At least we'd owe nothing to Fulgencio and his parasites.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2019-05-14 03:52 am (UTC)Flatly:]
What.
no subject
Date: 2019-05-14 09:02 pm (UTC)[ Oligarch-adjacent? ]
Since Marisol is busy. [ With whatever. He’s not yet fully worried about her. She’s invincible. ] We’re the next best tool for implying he can’t fuck us over without someone in Antiva fucking him back. [ He pauses, then adds, with grudging self-deprecation, because he would rather not but maybe it will butter Nikos up a little, if the grudging part doesn’t cancel it out— ] No one wants me making decisions about money alone. For some reason.
no subject
Date: 2019-05-15 03:23 am (UTC)[Any other conversation and Nikos would seize on that opportunity like a snake on a mouse, strip all of the meat off it, and use its empty hide as a puppet to perform a cruel puppetshow demonstrating the Incompetancies of Kostos. His response is instead nearly absent, an automatic response to an open target.
This part of this conversation started with reference to the status that Nikos has rejected, and then Marisol--who Nikos is worried about, angry about, torn up like someone took a fucking carving knife to his insides--and then he circles back to Fulgencio, lets the name takes shape in his mind.
His scowl blackens.]
Only when it comes to giving you any kind of financial authority. Prince Fulgencio is a royal prick. Did you know? A bastard among bastards. What is it he's meant to be doing for the Inquisition besides smearing his shit on the doorstep? We're looking for loans among the Barbetas now? We'd do better shilling on the street. At least we'd owe nothing to Fulgencio and his parasites.