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[caditquaestio]

[ It's all misery footage, Caer Glaem in paltry glory: rammed gates, scratched walls, torn stone, upturned soil, roughened up trees. The locket's coverage pauses on each 'tourist attraction' from a high vantage point, briefly stumbling on hands that are exceedingly worn, blistered and bitten. ]

What has... what's... wrought this? How many dead does the court mourn, how many supplies were lost to - to enemy unknown?

[ A pause, then less startled, slightly cold. ]

...how do they wish us to make war upon each other, if they give siege first? Not the finest general, not the most accomplished tactician can devise strategy against Anaximander's unknown. Not Caesar - Caesar, who had little gain from the Gauls without paying the blood price, but at least he knew what enemy lay in wait.

And we? Look here. Remember this next you think the time is nigh to fight well and fight fairly: we are not armed with weapon or knowledge. We are played for puppets, and when our masters go without their laughs, our strings are cut.

[ Muttered. ]

'Lawkamercyme'. Hah. We do not even know what the word means, or who gave it to us for the telling.



[ ooc: ...and lo, a much belated, for RL KO'd, APOLOGIES! wild intruder appears in the Seelie court! He's given up his war declaration in favour of sheer horror at Ariadne's mad interior decorating skillz. Those who'd like to run into a Borgia need but look for the 'worker' who's... probably... holding... the tools by the wrong end. ]

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[caditquaestio]

[ Buon Dio, small wonder the Seelie were ripe for the taking - faced with lies and shady strangers, they all rushed to lend aid and counsel. If only they weren't the enemy, Cesare might well pity them their benevolence.

Luckily, it all worked in his favour now, so he nodded along, nodded, nodded, nodded - ]

You... wish me to do the stonework?

[ And ruin these lily white hands?! ]

...now?

[dappergent]

[ Oscar laughed (and quite loudly too), getting a full bout of merriment out of this lad. Truly down on his luck he must be if that's the look he gives at suggesting something so simple as replacing a few blocks of stone. ]

Oh goodness, no, of course not! We have a stone mason who can take care of that, but he can't reach the upper walls without some scaffolding, can he? I'll hold the boards in place while you do the hammering. I'll even teach you how to lash them into place when we're done for extra strength!

[caditquaestio]

[ There was some good to come of it - little and late, but latent - the man laughed with him, and not at him. At least, he had that sort of air, that warmth.

...all right. Even Cesare Borgia could, God help them all, cooperate.

Maybe. ]

Yes, that's - pleasing. Good. Thank you. I'm... most grateful, sir -

[ He laughed as well, courtesy carefully framed. ]

Apologies. The name eluded me. Master...?

[dappergent]

[ the laugh truly was warmly meant and there's a twinkle in his eye as he clapped a hand to this new lad's back. ]

That's the spirit! And please, Master is far too formal for friends, isn't it? I'm Oscar. [ sitting Duke of the Vessalius Dukedom but what worth was a title when he was far from home? Not that much, to be honest. ] And what new friend have I made today? You're new here, aren't you? You don't really look like a fairy.

[ then again, fairies are only eight inches tall and quite mischievous. Cesare had at least a few feet on those creatures! ]

[caditquaestio]

[ ...what a strange man, truly. And a little... deranged? Something along those lines.

The friendliness and frayed sanity of a sailor, he supposed. He enjoyed that, usually. Plain, honest men.

He laughed along, ruffling his own hair as he reached back to scratch his nape. ]

I'm... the fairy of the family would be my sister. I am only...

[ A bow, ceremonial. ]

A courier, more often than a worker. But employ comes as it will. You are a great lord here?

[ Because the look of 'Oscar's clothing, if not his manner, betrayed the gentleman. ]

[dappergent]

[ blame it on the sun, dear friend, blame it on the sun...

But Oscar looks almost hurt at Cesare's supposition and there's a moment when he looks down to pout pluck at a loose thread of his rolled up sleeves. ]

Is it so easy to tell? [ he sighed and then simply shook his head and leaving his garment be. ] I'm afraid I'm no lord however, but just a man who helped out his brother from time to time. He's the real duke, I'm afraid, and not even a duke of this land.

[ and where that man went wrong Oscar still didn't know... Perhaps crazy just ran in the family! There is a history of it after all. ]

But it is good, that you have family. You must work hard to make your sister proud!

[ because family, even if one member was a dick, was family, and Oscar could do no less then cherish them.

He paused. ]

Ah, perhaps did you come here to recite a message? I wonder what news there is outside these castle walls... [ and a line creases his face for he's been full of unease since battle had suddenly descended on them so close just a month past. He had hoped for more time, not less. ]

[caditquaestio]

[ Well, what could one say, really? ]

Yes. Very easy. Easy enough to spot even a spare son.

[ Especially among those of kin and kind, who can tell the amount of work that went in the stitching of Oscar's clothing, the finery of the cloth.

But, "news." He should have known it would be asked of him, however subtly. His voice caught in his throat at first, but he recovered some use for it. ]

What do you wish to know? You have friends among the Unseelie? Perhaps if you name them, I can give you their tidings.

[dappergent]

[ Oscar shook his head and smiled sadly, staring sadly into the far off distance of another castle. ]

No, I'm afraid I can count none of the Unseelie among my friends.

[ now family is something else as is a passing acquaintance and Oscar's Mortal Enemy™ Vincent. ]

But I worry, a little. I see no reason why we're asked to commit to this war when we could live in peace instead and with no ill will born between us unlike the natives of this land. [ he glanced back to Cesare, earnest to a tea as he asks ] Peace is much more appealing then killing, isn't it, my friend?

[caditquaestio]

Appealing? [ He blinked at that, forcibly and hard and troubled. Appealing...? ] All things appeal. Dreams, most often than not.

[ But he turned slowly to point out the castle, high and still sturdy, for all the creature's efforts - and beautiful. ]

But look there: do you think there can be magnificence without sweat and blood? Peace without the war to press it?