abraxaslogs | Set my sights on the setting sun

[Fine. Let the manchild stand against the wall.

He listens, patiently closing his eyes to think, calmly tapping his nail thrice against the table, before bringing his fingers to his lap.]

I thought a man like you [ha ha] could withstand a little pressure.

[Is he going to end up offering a man who believes himself the devil therapy? Wouldn't be the first time.]

[He shoots him a dull, no-nonsense look, voice flat.] I've been on lock-up for billions of years, exponential courtesy of the flow of time, with only recently surface-level in fits and starts, until I came here. [He folds his arms. There's a hiss then to his voice, a coolness that frosts at Lucifer's back that surely must be some Horizon power, or Abraxan magic, not just him. Whatever words he says can't possibly be true, mm, Crane?] I'm tired of being under lock and key to something I can't control.

[So actually no. He's not great at withstanding pressure. Actually, just ask anyone from his world or anyone from Thorne: he's always on a hair-trigger, contents-under-pressure, always about to blow.] I ask you again: what do you want, that I may be able to provide? The Summoned are off-limits. [He doesn't trust this guy a lick and he's not providing him information of his only actual allies, even if many of them aren't in that category.

It's the constant mantra of what comes down on one of them, comes down on all of them.] What information does your 'work' need or are you just going to take the coin? [Providing the guy is willing to give Lucifer information, that is.]

Edited 2023-08-09 03:49 (UTC)

[Words are words. What fascinates him is the mind. Perhaps this man has a fascinating case buried underneath all this dirt: but unfortunately he's met Zsasz. One fool of fifty who pretends he is the devil. God knows how many exist in the world. God knows how many exist in this world.]

What I need is money. What I want are people.

[Perhaps they are at an impasse. The Summoned are off the table. But one pattern of behaviour is similar to another. There are hundreds of thousands in Thorne who fit the bill. Will the authorities notice if one or two undesirables go missing?

And were there to be a little war, well... prisoners would have to be taken, wouldn't they?]

I have no allies to any of the natives in that territory. [Except Mildred, he likes Mildred.] I certainly have no loyalties to the Court. We're trying to push for more of a reach outside of the castle town. Nott we have already, Borrel we just gained some semblance of access to. Hayle is a constant fight. One lick and we can't get a full taste. We're blocked from it, currently.

[He finally, finally takes a seat, leaned forward, fingers laced together, the first time he's really been something close to serious.] Nott is the bottom of the barrel. Borrel is the military center. Hayle is the gem.

[Take your pick of people.]

I am more than aware you are unwilling to offer our community in our bargain, but I would welcome cases more interesting than the depressed waiter down the street.

[He will take his pick of people. He will not play the political game nor bore himself with mundanity.]

Well, perhaps we can make people interesting. How many live in Hayle?

Military stooges likely have higher levels of Academic Magic than your average waitress, which means they can't all be idiot jugheads. [But of course he picks the one Lucifer can't get to himself. Hm.

But no matter where is being pulled from, Lucifer might have a wildcard in the wind that he can pay, who's loyal to coin.

The asshole is already well-familiar with a particular Creed trade route. If Lucifer can find him.] Hayle has the largest population in Thorne. It's home to its most-prominent university, so-called having the greatest mages. [Slight eyeroll. Because ugh. Prestige.]

I believe I have a resource I can lean on to get in and get out of locations. [With the occasional plus one.] But I cannot get to Hayle to observe anyone necessarily interesting for your picking. However, many alumni come from Thorne and Borrel, and return home post graduation.

[Crane closes his eyes and listens intently to every word. Facts and figures are commited to memory, informational tidbits are swallowed and chewed. Everything is processed and come the end he has a productive outcome.]

Perhaps. But targeting individual cases requires greater time and expenditure. Perhaps were the situation were ripe to analyse everyone together...

[War is good for business. Nothing like a good war, right?]

You're not going to get your mass uproar easily, especially from Hayle. They barely reacted to what Solvunn did. [Which was really teeth-grinding, actually. To have a city so up its own ass. Must be real nice to turn a blind eye to the rest of Abraxas, huh.

Nothing like a good war when they actually have replacement options for Thorne that aren't going to ultimately get them completely outright flattened by Free Cities and wherever Solvunn decides to land.

There's a reason he'd prefer the fey just to raze the continent because he does not want Free Cities coming out on top.

Ugh.

Why can't he just want war why does he have to care about strategy now?

What a joke.] You're not going to get what you're looking for until Free Cities acts or has something to 'fear' up their sleeve. Thorne has no reason to make the first move, believing themselves impenetrable and on top of the world, as they always have been.

There's yet to be a real breaking point between the factions. It should've been Solvunn, but Solvunn is like the middle child. 'That's nice, you did a bad thing, now go back to your room.' Ignored even for its antics. It's Free Cities and Thorne and all they've accomplished is throwing fire back and forth at each other and sidling back under the banner of begrudging 'peace.' [Lucifer will not be the one to encourage anyone to pull the trigger, not without a damn good reason--or excuse, as Thorne would likely see--to do so. He's in no position to either be listened to without consequence.] I need information to use in order to give you what you want, mm, so we really are at a standstill, aren't we?

[Or rather, take the damn payment, IOU people in the event that information procs genuine wartime.]

[Crane says nothing for a moment. He permits discomfort to hang on the air - savours it for a second - and thinks of possibilities.]

Until someone pushes the button, yes.

[Be it for nuclear war or dropping the bomb? Neither country has the technology for either - and accomplishing that is a fascinating thought. So what if the path for getting them there has a few diversions along the way?]

I knew a man who enjoyed trading in favours. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. That kind of arrangement doesn't fascinate me. [But he can tolerate it.] Less so when people want favours that hold too high a cost.

[So what if he only offers information relevent to forwarding his goals? That's fair if he's not getting paid in advance, right?]

[And they're all waiting for that button press, hung in suspense just as that discomfort.]

Well maybe I'll find something along the way that will fascinate you until then. [He'll keep an eye out, anyway.

But he does wonder what a man like this sees as a favor being too high a cost. What that looks like.

Doesn't really matter to Lucifer. He expects any information he gets to be something that ends up being useful to Crane, one way or another. That's how most minds should work: selfishly. But the selfish ones are more likely to get shit done than those being weighed down by morals and legality. It's why while Lucifer sees some value in the information they have gotten from other Summoned, it doesn't feel like it's enough.

He's bracing for war. Why are others just hoping the problem will go away, or it'll be outside of their time? (Maybe an inaccurate assumption of Lucifer's, but he hasn't met these sources.)] I think it's something to work with, anyway. Or work towards.

[It is thrilling, isn't it? Plotting in the dark, planning a bleak future. He shows nothing of it and sits upright, lacing his fingers beneath the table.]

Of course. Never question a present.

[Or a parent. Or a grandparent.]

But as a scientist questioning is my nature. Though I prefer cooperation instead of mutually assured destruction.

[Another consequence of nuclear war. But he'll survive and thrive. He always does.]

[You should probably actually question a present sometimes, but then, Lucifer is King of Paranoia.

So.

Yeah.]

How far do you go with questioning? Tell me you're not fool enough to find an end-point and risk taking action?

[He knows he's trying to seal a deal but what's he going to do if some moron asks too much and gets the answers Lucifer needs and then decides to do something about it... ugh. Maybe he doesn't need this guy.]

[Of course one should question it! But not publically: not in the face of a person who - at that point in time - is more powerful than you.]

Well, in all honesty I never find such an end. The one where I can hang up my coat, so to speak.

[He is speaking of his work. But when it comes to taking action? Well, sometimes one must do that.]

But I know how to manage my affairs and those of others. You are hardly the first influential figure to seek my assistance.

[Hi, Ra's.]

Death is the end of our work and even then some people keep going. [It's really not a morbid thought if it's coming from him.] So I hope that means your assistance is valuable, not just all smoke and mirrors of an intriguing personality. [Or sensible, rather.]

It's sensible to be suspicious.

[Is that flattery or an observation? The latter, really. He isn't given to flattery. The thought is demeaning for both parties.]

But if you suspected my assistance to be bogus, would you be here?

I'm a gamblin' man, what can I say. [He stretches out like a cat, grinning.] The odds seemed more in my favor dealing with you than most, mmm, anyone else.

[He pulls his legs in and straightens, leaning forward, eyes light.] Whaddaya say? Do we have an agreement, of sorts? [They don't trust each other, of course. But there should be something, enough, there. For a deal.

Money is so trivial but maybe one day Lucifer can pull together what Crane really desires, if the push-pull value is worth it.

A dangerous game.

At least Lucifer isn't like his demons; he doesn't need to seal a deal with a kiss.]

[Ah, he's the second choice? Others would find that insulting but he appreciates it. Better to fly beneath the radar than be underneath the spotlight. Better to not have demands on his time so he can dedicate himself to his work.]

Of course. If I discover anything interesting, I'll drop you a line.

[If not through the telephone than through the toaster. Or through this magical mind network.]

[Second choice? More that he didn't have much choice. Like the equivalent of throwing a dart at board of names.

Which is likely worse than being a second choice.

He stands. He lasted sitting down for a brief spell, you're welcome.] Excellent. I won't take up anymore of your time. I'm sure you must have a busy schedule. [That's not so much an insult at Crane as it is at... everyone else.]

Set my sights on the setting sun

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