|The Other Guy's Greed
||[Jan. 19th, 2006|01:46 am]
Now wasn't this just fascinating.
Selric's mood had shifted in the last two minutes or so from thoroughly pissed off, to detachedly bemused, to interested, to full-on pleased as he watched several very engaging events transpire in an adjacent alley. Synapse and Influx had offered to step in and try to break up the fight, but far be it from him to deny the trash its natural right to take care of itself. Do what thou wilt, indeed!
However, after a couple seconds had passed, he began to notice things that proved capable of holding his attention outside of the perverse satisfaction of general violence. The aggressor, specifically the large, oafish man who seemed to be having some difficulty knowing when to stay down, wore a Gayue crest. Meaning he was a Keeper. Meaning a Gayue Keeper was getting in a street fight with...Selric couldn't be particularly sure, but he had features reminiscent of a Zagy. The Earl of Excess made it his business to keep tabs on most of the Families, and this one certainly seemed to match the facial characteristics. Plus, he had a softblade, meaning one of two things. It was possible the man was a criminal, and had taken the blade from an OIS officer...
...but that was a bit too unlikely for Selric's taste. He knew the immense risk that presented itself in doing something like that; one could be snapped back up by the authorities in mere hours. And so there was a single possibility left: a Gayue Keeper had just assaulted, and been murdered by, a Zagy who also happened to be an OIS officer (and who apparently had a posse with them, but those two were decidedly unremarkable and Selric figured they wouldn't bring him much of a price). And it all took place in the territory of the Atrox Family.
This was rich.
No, HE was rich. Certainly, both parties involved would want to hear about what had happened, and heaven knew the Atrox couldn't allow themselves to be overrun by street fighting between other, less-established groups.
The thug snapped to attention. "Yeah, boss?"
For a second, Selric stroked the tip of his goatee, letting the hair play over the white of his opera gloves. It was a second spent in cautious, gauging rationale as the clockwork gears of his mind turned, powering a deviousness unmatched by any unfeeling machine. He had to get this just right...
"I want you to get find Cosmos and Logos. Send one of them to the Zagy and one to the Gayue, if you would be so kind, and inform whomever answers that I request an audience with one of their elders at my chateau. As soon as possible."
"Okay, boss," nodded Synapse, turning.
"At different times this time, you barbarous ox. I'd rather not juggle my engagements again."
"And when you're done giving them their orders, I want you to do the same with the Atrox. Sixth Elder, of course, my usual contact."
Synapse's retreating form gave a salute, and was almost immediately gone, having been conditioned to execute his orders promptly. "Very well then, Influx," Selric commanded with a snap of his fingers, "let us head home."
As they strode down the alley, quietly bypassing the aftermath of the carnage that had transpired close by, Selric gave a satisfied chuckle to himself; he was quite pleased with this new find. The Zagy, the Gayue, the Atrox, they were all insanely avaricious, like a primitive Moloch trying to stuff everything they could accumulate into their collective maw.
But if there was one law, the Sublimely Magnificent Selric Girardot XXVII knew, they desperately needed to learn, it was a simple one: never underestimate the other guy's greed.