houseofcards_rp | While There Is Life, There Is Hope

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While There Is Life, There Is Hope

It's a better day. Not an excellent day, but a better one than he's had in a while. The losses still weigh onon him, of course, and his recent breakup with Brennan, though mutually agreed upon and amicable, is in that pile of hurts, but overall, the King of Diamonds us feeling good as he walks through his Castle, checking in with his people.

Be at ease, fellow men and women. Vasiliy's desertion is an intriguing matter that will be thoroughly investigated, but it isn't a total disaster. There are other forgers, and even though they aren't as talented as the Seven, it could be far worse.

So come, chit-chat with the King - business matters or not. He's smiling and receptive.

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Säde isn't particularly at ease, unfortunately. Vasiliy at least still has family on Deck, people whom she hopes can be persuaded to stay and not follow after. People who can persuade him to keep secrets entrusted to him.

Still.

"Silas. Good day to you."

Despite being an insufferably difficult man, Vasiliy did have some form of loyalty to his Suit; Silas has faith that that loyalty will prevent him from sharing Deck secrets, though he can't really be sure. Worst case scenario, Vasiliy has to be forcibly returned home.

He'd rather not do that.

Säde's voice wins a warm expression from him, has him pausing properly in her doorway. "Good afternoon, Säde. How are you today?"

They'll need to discuss it, of course, but pleasantries first, and perhaps that bullet can be dodged.

"The kindest phrase, I think, is off balance," she says, less warm and more stiff. "Let us say disturbed, even. Several high-ranking Cards in three Suits leaving in a matter of days- and among our own I heard that you and Zaslavsky had some kind of disagreement at Isaac's memorial. Why?"

He tenses, just a little bit, at that. "Trust me, you're not the only one disturbed by the sudden desertion, and I've got my own concerns, but it will be handled. As for what was said between myself and Mr. Zaslavsky, he thought it necessary to make comments about the memorial being held, and I made it very clear that such comments had no place there."

And unless she pushes for details, he's not elaborating.

She cocks an eyebrow. "Interesting. He knew Isaac well enough, I thought; he had more delicacy than that." She doesn't push, though. Vasiliy can no longer give his side of the story, so it's best to leave it at that.

"Doesn't it concern you, though? Our forger, who worked on several false identities; the Spade's computer specialist, with access to so much of the Spades' information? The Clubs' Jack? I don't believe for a second that she only left to be with her boyfriend."

Unfortunately, Säde thought wrong if she really believed that Vasiliy was above being an inconsiderate, insufferable waste of human flesh -- and Silas didn't think that about almost anyone. He figured it out a while ago, but he had overlooked it for the most part because Zaslavsky was good at his job. Or, he had been, at least.

Then he'd insulted Silas, and the funeral proceedings, and the family's mourning, and Silas stopped worrying about how Sensitive Vasiliy might have been. He'd meant to make his point, but the Russian never showed, and two days later, he was gone.

"It certainly looks. . .fascinating and suspicious. Do we have people on it yet?" He hoped so. And if not, well, he'd handle that. Immediately.

Even inconsiderate, insufferable wastes of human flesh had a point to make if you took the time to sort through what was and what wasn't bullshit. It had been so long since Vasiliy himself had said anything remotely less than cool biting politeness in front of her, though, she hadn't spared a thought for him over anything more demanding from the Suit.

"Cadogan is taking care of the Vasiliy angle, I understand." The slight twist of her lips speaks for what she thinks of the Ten, though she can't deny that he's capable in this area. "And I've instructed our ambassador to Clubs, Mac Mathghamna, to keep his ears open. It's a pity he wasn't closer to Mills."

Vasiliy hasn't contributed useful ideas in years. So Silas tended to tune him out when he started whining, until the funeral.

He nods just once, deliberately not acknowledging her lack of appreciation for Cadogan and all that he is, all that he does. "You did exactly what I was going to do. Thank you." A single nod. "Cadogan will get the results we need; I have faith in that."

She cocks her head, folding her arms. "I'm certainly pleased we're on the same wavelength, but I came to consult you on what else we might have missed. This isn't just a Suit issue, after all."

He shakes his head. "No, it isn't. Five high cards disappeared within hours of each other, and from all four Suits no less. We've lost our primary forger, the Clubs have lost their Jack -- while their King is Outside, no less, the Spades have lost their in-house psychotherapist in addition to their information technology specialist, and the Hearts' head of domestics is gone, as well. This would appear to go far beyond simply three of them leaving to be with their respective significant others."

Nope. He is so not buying that much, but. "I don't know what more it may be, though. Vasiliy may have felt unheard when he spoke here, and may have elected to leave because of it. Miss Adare and Dr. Rhodes were, obviously, involved, and there is naturally reason to believe that they've left together, perhaps even remaining in Miss Mills' general vicinity, considering the close friendship between her and Miss Adare."

But, really, he doesn't know.

"I dare hope the other Suits will assure us when they have ascertained that those who left will not compromise the Deck, just as we will once we've resolved things with Vasiliy." This matter requires transparency, she feels, especially with such significant information as they had access to.

"Failing that, we should collate a full list of who used his services and decide what next to be done." She sighs. "I don't imagine anyone will be pleased if they have to return and have a new identity created."

"No, I don't imagine they would be. I think creating a list would be beneficial anyway, just so that we know if red flags go up. I'd rather be able to react efficiently if one is flagged than have to track everyone down and waste hours while forty others go up. Proactivity is our best ally here." And they all know it.

"And in the meantime, we may do well to go ahead and have new identities instituted for those who intend to leave soon. Prioritize by order of exit." Simple enough. Smart enough.

"And have security measures put in place for those whose identities have already been established with those Outside." After all, there were several people who regularly went Outside and worked with the same people. Sudden changes in background would be suspicious.

She nods to him. "Shall we, then?" To their separate departments to set things in motion?

A firm nod. "Absolutely. Let me know when you've done what you can on your end, Lady."

That handled, he'll be swiftly taking his leave after a bow to go make his list and check it thrice.

There are other forgers, 'tis true. And like as not, several people from the Outside with the skills who didn't advertise the fact - much like Ben didn't advertise the fact that he had contacts who could tell him that Vasiliy Zaslavsky had an interview with one of the agencies with a lot of initials in Washington, D.C. Still, he'd let Cadogan know, suggested a Diamond who could go have a word with the Russian and point out that his sister was still on the rise in the Suit. It was under control, and not his official jurisdiction.

Which was the beauty of being a Five. He didn't have to have the difficult conversations with the Royals.

"Your Majesty," he says with a nod. "I was hoping you might have a bit of time to discuss a few new arrivals, and their placements."

The situation was being handled and that was all that mattered. Things were under control and they must all maintain the express appearance of Business As Usual.

"Of course I do. What can I help you with?" He tipped his head, a brow lifted. As director of human resources, this fell into his court, so naturally he was all ears. And his walk slowed from something brisk and official to slower and more conversational, too.

He had the sppearances are all business down pat after about a month, and he'd been here two years, not that he'd ever had much to do with Silas. Ben managed to keep his head out of HR until HR decided he needed to be pulling more weight in the Suit as a Five.

It's safe to say that he wasn't overly thrilled, but he never lets it show. "Three new arrivals, two of whom are cooks by trade." The third was five, and thus not important to this particular conversation. "Gwendolyn hasn't the space for them in the Castle, and neither do any of the Diamond restaurants in Town."

Edited 2012-10-16 04:03 (UTC)

He drummed his fingertips against his thigh as they walked, contemplation on his face. "I'm going to assume that they have no interest in starting up their own restaurant, but do tell me -- what kind of food do they specialize in?" Cooks -- always, there are so many cooks, and while he may be able to pull some strings to settle them into a restaurant owned and operated by members of another Suit, he'd rather not do that unless absolutely necessary.

But then... "Isn't there someone in the Diamond kitchens going off-Deck soon? Getting married, having a baby, and generally just enjoying Outside life before coming home?" He could be wrong, that might have been weeks ago, but. He's pretty sure there's someone down there with that plan. "If I'm correct, then surely they can fill the posts being abandoned, and in the meantime, they can get settled in and make adjustments." It was no secret, after all, that life in the Deck and life Outside were very, very different.

"A business venture's a risky one, even in the Deck, and a lot of work for a couple of recent arrivals," especially with a fairly traumatized child. There weren't many instances where one showed up in the Deck because they wanted to.

As for Silas' suggestion, he shakes his head. "Gwendolyn mentioned that, but she also said the positions have already been filled." And they couldn't shove another pair of cooks out of the way just to make room for people seeking sanctuary. It was a good way to foster bitterness in Suit members. "That's the other tricky bit. They're Nepali."

If God is listening, Silas is praying. Silently, of course, but praying nonetheless. Because there just isn't anywhere to put more cooks unless he does manage to pull those strings. Damn.

"English speaking?" Probably not, but he can certainly hope. And he can find translators and English tutors and a wealth of aids for these new people, certainly, as long as they're receptive to it. "Do you know what they came out of specifically when they came here? Basically, what can you tell me so that I can, well, help?"

Ben doesn't expect praying is really necessary, but then after the sorts of turns his adult life had taken, he's not particularly sure there's someone upstairs paying a whit of attention to any of them.

"They do speak a bit," he says. "They're from Kathmandu, and 'tisn't that they came out of a war zone so much as they've made enemies in the city. They didna run their own restaurant there, either, but were fairly high up in a fancier sort of place, from what they've told me. They're little girl is fairly fluent in English, for she'd been learning it in school." He'd been hoping Silas knew of something he didn't, but the angles he's offering so far are the usual ones he tries, so he makes his own suggestion. "Per'aps you know of a few of the wealthier families looking for their own cook? It might be the best thing for the short-term. Miss Kaavya could take on housekeeping duties, if there aren't two such situations."

"I don't know for sure, but I can look into it. I'm sure someone could stand to have some extra help." He'd figure it out. Doesn't know right now, but there is always a solution waiting to be found, if one is willing to be diligent and seek it out. Silas is that person.

"Certainly, the Berthiers can stand to take on one or two extra workers. If not, I'll check with the Aucoins and see what we can come up with."

"Lady Renee over Irene and Peter, I'd think." It's mild of course, and entirely respectful, but Ben was Sophie's boyfriend. And he was her date at Irene's wedding.

"Lady Renee's always struck me as a bit more adventurous. She might care more Nepalese cuisine."

"Renee is certainly an adventurous woman." She'd redesigned his office, after all, and it was...not what he'd imagined, though he was certainly fond of it. "I'll check with her, though I doubt she'll pose much argument. She can certainly afford them, and it would be good for her."

Such a smart man, Ben. This is why he keeps you.

Always good to know he was earning his keep somehow, at least.

"Let me know if it's otherwise," he says with a shrug. "Otherwise I'll begin preparing the paperwork." Always with the bloody paperwork. It was like he was still a detective.

Smiling, Silas tucks his hands into his pockets. "I don't expect that it will be. Go ahead and get it drawn up, and if I'm wrong, I'll write the new paperwork myself. Deal?" It's not like he's incapable, after all.

"Sounds like a plan Mr. Thomas will disapprove highly of," Ben says. "But he does like to bury me. Says it keeps me from ruining the lawn with golf practice." He does no such thing, of course.

He chuckles. "He does have his own sense of humor, doesn't he? You have my word that it will be perfectly fine, no complaints from anyone else." A grin, a wink. "Our little secret, Mr. Mackinnon."

"'Tis the constant battle of Wales versus Scotland, you see. The Welsh are just bitter that Edward Longshanks plowed them down and then got beat back by the Scots when he tried to move North." He's completely straight-faced. "They should've painted their faces blue."

Out of his pockets come his hands, and up they go. "I'm not getting involved with that debate at all. I'm a neutral party, gentleman."

"Wise decision. It's one of those things that canna be solved anyway but through rugby." Or violence. But, that's what rugby was.

His eyebrow arches high enough to be nearly merged with his hairline. Rugby. Yeah, there's not a chance in Hell of him being involved in a rugby match. "Well. I do hope you two solve that matter," his pause is followed by a grin, "without ruining the lawn."

Exactly what they'd expect, considering you get covered both with mud and bruises. Ben prefers footie, himself. "If the Deck got itself a proper golf course, we wouldn't have to worry about a thing, yeah?"

Nope, not even that. Silas will stick to his reading; that's plenty adventurous for him. "If it's feasible, it'll happen. Until then, you make do with what's available, hmm?"

"As always." Silas had no idea what kind of making do Ben had done in the last several years, and like as not wouldn't care much for him if he did. But he wouldn't find out, either. Ben was more than good at hiding these things.

"Thank you for your time, Your Majesty."

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