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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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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While There Is Life, There Is Hope

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