Genevieve Albrecht (thespecialstock) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-09-08 16:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, altair laurent, genevieve albrecht |
said no more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars
Who: Altair Laurent & Genevieve Albrecht
What: Catching up
Where: Bistro Quatre
When: Monday, Virgo 11 (backdated)
Rating: G
Status: Complete!
The sky blazed brilliant shades of red and orange at 8:00 in mid-Virgo. Altair was on time, as usual, to the Albrecht Estate, where he’d agreed to pick up Vivi for dinner. Although it was early yet, it promised to be a beautiful evening. The warmth of the day had receded somewhat, and a cool breeze blew in from the sea.
Even in the chill of deepest winter, Altair was accustomed to traveling throughout the city on foot or by chocobo. Only on the rarest of occasions did he travel by hovercab. For dinner with a countess, and one he held in such high regard at that, nothing but the Laurent family’s private hovercar would do. Luckily, Rigel Laurent had no need for it this evening, and he wouldn’t think of denying his son’s request for the use of the car on an outing with the Countess. The family was bemused by the depth of Altair’s friendship with Genevieve, but they respected it nonetheless.
Altair helped Vivi into the hovercar before climbing in himself. “Bistro Quatre,” he told the driver, before settling himself in. It would not be a long hovercar ride: the bistro where he had a table reserved was in the Nobles District.
It had been some time since she had been to Bistro Quatre and was looking forward to a light dinner. They had some of the best salads she had tasted, and while she could always order something a bit heavier, she found that a simple salad, maybe some bread and cheese, sounded the most delightful. The hovercar ride, though short, was pleasant enough, and they filled the time with idle small talk.
When they arrived at the restaurant, Genevieve allowed Altair to help her from the vehicle. They were seated almost immediately - reservations did wonders to cut down on wait time, really - and she glanced over the menu after giving her drink order to the waiter. Iced tea for now, as the weather was still a bit warm. Perhaps she would indulge in a glass of red wine with her meal, but it had been nearly two months since she’d had anything of substance to drink.
Once the waiter had left to fetch their drinks, Genevieve smiled at Altair. “I do hope that you didn’t find the ball too tedious,” she told him. They had spoken briefly of it, but not at any length. And while the ball had not been hers to host, she had had a hand in its execution.
Altair smiled back at her across the table. “Not at all,” he said smoothly. “It was perfectly extravagant. I daresay our Duke does nothing halfway.” He had rather enjoyed the ball, truthfully. Masquerades always seemed to add an extra touch of intrigue to such a soiree, and having many of his dear friends from the Thieves Guild improved the company significantly. “And how about you?” he asked. “I hope you were able to enjoy yourself.” Having hosted, in part, a ball of his own in the past couple of months, he remembered well the added toll it seemed to take.
Their drinks arrived just then, and Altair took a sip automatically. He’d ordered sparkling water with a wedge of lime, and had no intention of ordering wine with dinner. It was such a common thing as to be expected, but he knew Vivi was aware of his need to feel clearheaded at all times and would not judge him negatively for abstaining.
She thanked the waiter and took a sip of her tea. “I was able to enjoy myself quite immensely,” she replied. “As it was not my ball, I had quite a bit of freedom to engage with others and take to the floor.” She had even gotten a few dances out of Reinholdt, despite the constant swarm of admirers and brown nosers. It had been an entertainment all its own, to be fair.
“The variety of guests made things quite lively,” she added thoughtfully. Perhaps it would be an appropriate gesture once Audrey returned to her station to throw her a ball. It would be expected, of course, and as dear Audrey grew up amongst what many of her station considered the rabble, well, it would only serve as a wonderful welcome to invite them all to attend. The thought brought a smile to her lips. “Have you heard from our dear Duke about your inscription?”
“I quite agree,” Altair said with feeling. “I have often thought that the likes of Audrey and Wilcar were exactly what was needed to liven up some of the parties around here.” Certain parties, of course, needed no livening up, but that was, as often as not, because something had gone horribly wrong in their execution. By design, it seemed that most of the parties on the Nobles District attempted to be as dull as possible. Only the backbiting and gossip that most nobles engaged in behind gloved hands made such parties tolerable to Altair.
“I have not heard from the Duke,” Altair said, smoothly moving to the next subject. “I am not in the habit of hearing from him often, however. He seems to address me only when he needs something in particular; and to be honest, I do believe I prefer it that way.” His rather bold inscription in Duke Reinholdt’s guestbook at the ball had been only the most recent in a long line of attempts to catch the man’s attention. Those times he had been addressed personally by the Duke, however, had been rather disconcerting. After such interactions, he was never entirely certain whether he was glad to finally be on the spymaster’s mind, or whether he had made a terrible mistake.
She nodded. Few had the pleasure of communicating with Reinholdt regularly, and from what she could tell, amongst the guild, that honor was reserved for the councilors. She was an exception, but then, she had come to find that in most things she was one. It helped that they had known each other since adolescence and that they were close enough in station that interacting was somewhat expected.
“It is an understandable preference,” she agreed. “Such frequent communication with him would get tiresome after a time.” The waiter returned and Genevieve ordered her salad and bread basket.
Altair ordered a salad as well: one that contained goat cheese, walnuts, and pears. Then he turned his attention back to Vivi with a smirk. “Do you speak from experience?” he inquired lightly, then chuckled to himself and took a sip of his water. “In my case, I would simply like to remain in his good graces.” Assuming he was in them to begin with: it was hard to tell with Reinholdt. Altair felt admiration for the man, but he also had a healthy respect for how dangerous he was. Behind his alliteration and riddles, Altair knew there lie a shrewd mind, and a man who would not hesitate to find the most expedient means to his end. At the same time, his desire to impress the Duke led him, from time to time, to act imprudently, as he had at the ball, in the way he had signed the guestbook.
“I wonder,” he mused, swirling his glass and watching the lime spin around and around, “what exactly it would take to impress him.”
Genevieve pondered the question - it was a question, though she was uncertain as to whether Altair meant to frame it as such that she felt obligated to answer. There were a great many ways to impress the duke, she knew, though it was not an easy feat, nor was it an immediate reaction. It took time to be worth his notice.
“I suppose time will tell” is what she settled on. Admittedly, she knew little of his thoughts on most of his guild - she was not a part of it, and was content to keep that divide - and so what help she could provide would be minimal. “I suppose making yourself invaluable or some such would be a decent step.”
Altair hadn’t meant it to be a question that he desired an answer to. As far as he knew, Duke Reinholdt didn’t discuss guild business with Vivi. She wasn’t a guildmember, after all, and the duke didn’t strike Altair as the sort of person who would confide everything in one other person.
Making himself invaluable was something he’d considered, of course, but it was much easier said than done. Altair didn’t think he had anything that the Duke necessarily needed, although he volunteered for Guild business whenever the opportunity arose, and tried to show his use in any way possible. He knew it was rather unbecoming, trying so hard to be noticed by one man; and if anyone other than Vivi and Lea knew how desperately he sought the Duke’s approval, it would be quite embarrassing.
“I’ve no doubt you’re right,” he said at last, and took another sip of his water before setting the glass down. “So what have you been up to, my lady?” he asked, changing the subject. “Have you been working on any new projects lately? Have you made any interesting acquisitions?”
Genevieve sipped at her tea and pondered the question. There was not much she had been up to as of late, having taken to being a bit of a recluse. One too many city-wide disasters - and bedrest for her involvement in one - was more than enough excitement for her. “I’ve come across a few interesting scrolls,” she said thoughtfully. “Bardic in origin, I think. A bit advanced.” She, like a great deal of young ladies, had been put through the motions of musical training. Nothing as extensive as bardic, but she could play a flute quite prettily.
As such, she could read sheet music, though she did not understand the mystical qualities surrounding the notes. The bard she had had examine the scrolls had never seen them before, and the transitions had suggested a level of difficulty well above the man. Of course, he was a mediocre bard, and a traveling one, at that. Member of no guild, helpful to them all in his way.
“I’ve also come across a most enchanting ring,” she mused. “The properties of it are useless to me, but it is a pretty bauble.” And she did so enjoy pretty baubles.
“The Bardic scrolls sound interesting,” Altair murmured. “I would like to see them, if you’ve the time to show me.” Altair wasn’t a bard anymore—his current class suited him far better, and it was unlikely he’d be able to glean any more from the scrolls than a mediocre bard. Still he had some knowledge of the discipline, and such things interested him, in any case.
“I might be going to Kerwon next week,” he brought up casually.
“Once I have them situated,” she agreed. It was possible he could tell her something that the other bard had not, and she had yet to speak with Arielle regarding her take on the scroll. “And what might you be going to Kerwon for?”
She had heard tell that he had begun to capitalize on the trickling trade situation. There hadn’t been a need for her to approach him about it, and he had not come to her to discuss it. “I do hope it will be interesting.”
Altair smiled, thinking of what he'd found. "I've discovered a sordid tale of an abandoned cottage at the edge of the Feywood. I would quite like to explore it, and I intend to invite Ari along as well." It had initially been an attempt to prolong summer, but neither of them could resist a good story, Altair knew. "It is purely a pleasure jaunt, although if there was something you needed picked up from any of the villages in the mountains there, I am certain I could manage."
The waiter returned with their salads and Genevieve took a small bite of hers. Perfect, she thought, smiling at the waiter who, content that the patrons found no fault with their food, took his leave. Once he had walked away, she turned her attention back to Altair.
“That is an interesting story,” she said. Immediately, her mind casted through the area, discarding extraneous information and contacts in search of anything that might be of value. “I have nothing in that area at the moment,” she finally came back with. “Do enjoy your pleasure jaunt. You shall have to let me know if you find anything of interest.”
She had little doubt that Altair and Arielle would be content to wander without any form of exploration.
“I will,” Altair promised, spearing some of his salad onto his fork. “I don’t expect that we’ll find anything of value, but with any luck, we’ll find plenty of interest.” As he chewed, he reflected on the fact that, while he would go just about anywhere and do just about anything to increase his fortune or his status, the promise of mystery was almost as great a motivator. Indeed, he thought nothing of hopping an airship for a half day’s journey across two continents simply for the sake of chasing a good story.
Genevieve chewed thoughtfully. “It is not uncommon for knowledge and information to be of value,” she pointed out. After all, it was one of the main forms of currency amongst her and like-minded people, such as the Thieves’ Guild. She quite often found that certain aspects of information were worth more than their weight in jewels.
“I am sure that you will have a lovely time, regardless.”
If the home of a Kerwonian girl held the sort of secrets that would benefit the Thieves Guild of Emillion in the present day, Altair would be quite surprised. Any information he could provide that would be of use to the guild and to Reinholdt could only assist in the acquisition of his goals and the power he sought within the city. Still, even if it was nothing more than a tragic love story, important to no one but those who had been involved and those who were still interested in such things, Altair would consider it something of a success.
As their meal progressed, Altair and Vivi continued to discuss mutual acquaintances, humorous anecdotes, and the details of their lives they felt would be of interest to the other. It was nice, Altair reflected later in the evening as he reached for the check, to have these moments to catch up with the people he cared most about. He knew that even after taking Vivi home when their meal was done and returning to the estate where he lived with his father and brothers, he would carry the contented feeling of having spent a lovely evening with family.