The sign on Fight Club's door says CLOSED and it is closed until seven, like it is most nights. The door is locked. But if Claude peers through the window, past the painted logo and illustrations of Fighting-type pokemon that covers so much of it, he'll be able to see the unreasonably tall shape of Thace sitting in a booth at the back, as well as Steven walking towards the door, so that he can let him in.
"Right," Steven says, as he ushers Claude through the door. "I've got a couple of takeout menus we can order from. I figured that would be the better choice, rather than us making you anything."
Thace might think Claude had the potential to be an ally, despite everything, but Steven wasn't so sure about that.
Claude flashes a smile to Steven, then to Thace as he walks in. "Hey. I didn't realize we'd be eating; mind if I ask Dimitri if he wants anything? We were going to stop somewhere on our way back home, so I asked if he'd mind waiting outside for me."
This is, of course, Claude delicately placing the first card of the evening's game in full view on the table. He's here, and everything is friendly...and Dimitri, his deeply loving, extremely strong, and violently protective boyfriend, is outside. Expecting Claude to walk out of Fight Club's doors later, alive and unharmed, and if he doesn't, Dimitri will know who to demand explanations from.
It's simply a fact that Claude has made Steven and Thace aware of, nowhere even close to approaching a threat. In fact, Claude's casually arranged it so it doesn't even look like a precaution - except perhaps to men who would recognize what the precaution is, exactly, and why Claude might feel as though he needs to take it.
Dimitri, for what it's worth, is completely in the dark that there's even the possibility for danger to Claude here. For one thing, if Claude had informed him, Dimitri would have gotten protective to an impossible degree...but also, there's no way to explain why he might need protection here without potentially destroying both Steven and Thace's confidences (which he's already elected to keep) and also their friendly relationship with Dimitri. Even thinking they might hurt Claude could be too much for Dimitri to reconcile, Claude thinks. No need to tar and feather Steven and Thace with that particular brush in Dimitri's mind unless they actually do try something.
Thace raises one eyebrow from where he's sitting in the booth near the back. He's not surprised that Claude chose to bring backup, but he does have some concerns about who. Concerns that are vanishingly unlikely to matter in the long run, but concerns nonetheless.
They'll deal with it if it becomes a complication later, he supposes. With any cooperation from forces beyond their control, this talk will go smoothly. Still he gestures to Vrig, so she can bring Dimitri out a chair in case things go long. Let Claude deal with any questions that might arouse.
While Vrig brings Dimitri out his barstool, Steven shrugs, though he waits until the door is closed again to reply to Claude. "Sure. I just-- didn't know how long this would take and figured we might get hungry. If you rather, we can talk first and then decide if we want anything to eat."
He's walking now, back towards the booth, but watching Claude via the mirrored wall behind the bar.
"After all, I think we all know what this is about. Your-- shall we say theories about myself?"
"I wouldn't mind talking first, honestly. For one thing, my curiosity hasn't been any more manageable than I warned you it would be, and I don't know how much longer I can wait." Claude chuckles as he follows Steven toward the booth. "But also, given the nature of my theories, and how they involve both of you...I think it's reasonable to assume that I'm not the only one feeling some tension here, right? So it feels like it'd be best to clear the air and get all the cards out on the table sooner rather than later."
That sounds ridiculous, but I'll accept that if you've known a guy for 22 years, his flavors of brooding are pretty distinct to you. [Claude can't help but sound a bit amused. It is a funny way of putting it to an outsider, Jaskier.]
And what are you afraid it is? Because, before you insult me with an accusation, I'll say that I didn't give a single secret of yours away to him. I keep my promises.
Big words for the bloke capable of evaluating even the tiniest twitch of his boyfriends' eyebrows.
[A sigh.] Yes, you do keep your promises. You also like to play with fire, to walk as close to the edge as possible without falling. [Like a true politician!] What happened then?
Don't YOU dare. You're the one who'd probably run headlong into any trouble or fighting that happened, aren't you? So you'd better be careful at prom; you'll make Dimitri cry if you get hurt.
Honestly...it's a little tough to say. [Claude rubs his chin thoughtfully.] You're a lot like me, in that I think if I say what it's safe to say without saying more than Geralt would likely want me to, it'd probably make you curious and go poking around the matter...which would kind of negate any discretion I'm trying to show. And I really am trying to get Geralt to like me, despite everything, so I don't want him to feel like I've ratted him out...
So what is it safe to say? I suppose it'd be easiest to sum up as the antics of a mischievous pokémon forcing Geralt to share something with me he wouldn't have if he'd had a choice in the matter. It wasn't anything directly related to you. We wound up talking about you through that, but that had absolutely nothing to do with anything you've ever told me in confidence. I did make it inescapably clear how much I know you think of him in a general sense, but you've never been shy about that yourself, so I wasn't telling him anything he didn't know - just things he's somehow still in denial about. But that's nothing you don't know.
Oh - he did tell me he doesn't have emotions, and I told him I didn't believe that at all. His personality isn't that much unlike that of a guy I know who's as human as anyone else; I really don't know how anyone sold him on that idea.
I don't run headlong anywhere. if I fight it will be for good reason. and dimitri cries at the drop of a hat. obviously I don't plan to break any bones. I do expect you to dance with me though. 😼
"If we're going to be laying things out on the table, theories is coy, isn't it?" Thace begins softly, "Given that you have had more than enough information to put two and two together since nearly Christmas."
Steven will wait until Claude takes a seat before he slides into the booth next to Thace. He sighs heavily. "Honestly, I'd rather just get it all over with anyway. Thace knew about stealing Christmas, because I told him that Team Rocket was going to go after... well, every single major shopping location in the two regions that night, honestly, but in particular the Goldenrod Christmas Market, because if we made a big show of attacking that one, we'd more easily get away with stealing more from all the others. And I knew that because I'm a ranking member of Team Rocket.
"I was press-ganged," he adds, spreading his hands out in front of him on the table. "As far as I know, all the otherworlders on the Team were. Instead of waking up with Fake Mom, we wake up in the Rocket dormitories and they put us through a week-long larceny boot camp before releasing us into the wilds of Goldenrod City. We have a biweekly quota we have to fill of stolen pokemon. In return we get room, board, medical care, all mission expenses paid, and a weekly stipend that increases with rank. And if we do extra missions, we get rewarded accordingly.
"And given that by the time they release us, we've already stolen pokemon in our training exercises? I think you can see why none of us bother to turn ourselves in to the Jennies."
Claude glances at Thace, then chuckles. "Well, that's definitely not inaccurate," he agrees, reaching into a pocket. What he pulls out is a card, which he slides over the table. "But I think you actually underestimate just how much I know."
It's immediately recognizable as a secret from the Indeedees from not so long ago. The text, however, is new.
I never wanted to kill you. That knife to the throat gesture was just grandstanding. Hell, I wasn't even really going to break your wrist. That was just screwing with you too. I actually like you as a person, even if you were a pain in our ass at the Christmas Market.
There's a slight smile on Claude's lips. "Not only do I know you're a Rocket, but I know you're the Rocket who threatened me during the Christmas heist. I know who the other Rocket who attacked me at the Christmas heist was. I knew that Rocket otherworlders are pressganged into service even before you told me. I know where the headquarters are." His grin broadens a little. "I'm no slouch at information-gathering, you know."
He leans back in his seat. "That said, you've got nothing to fear from me. As you've seen, what I know doesn't necessarily translate into me acting on what I know. And I've got no interest in punishing people forced into awkward situations. I would like to get at the people calling the shots behind Team Rocket - to say that I don't agree with what they do is an understatement - but I don't plan on moving on anything I know until I can be sure innocent, or mostly innocent, people aren't going to get caught in the crossfire. I don't believe in doing harm on the path to doing good; any plan that requires that isn't a good enough plan. So I'll find one that is."
He cocks an amused eyebrow at Steven. "I wasn't even really planning on confronting you about what I knew about you - and I think you can gauge by that secret just how certain I've been, and for how long - until you slipped up the way you did. I couldn't resist cornering you on that one. And at the end of the day, I don't think that the three of us knowing exactly where we stand with each other is really a bad thing. You've got nothing to fear from me, I hope I have nothing to fear from you, and those are things worth knowing for sure instead of just optimistically hoping."
Changelings sound a little similar to some things Grant's told me about his world. I don't know if they're the same or just alike, but I'm not entirely without a frame of prior reference. My own world doesn't have anything like it, though. Stories, maybe, but nothing real.
I...didn't realize you weren't really talking about a monarch in the traditional sense, though. If you're from the Autumn Court, then I'm guessing there's four courts to a Freehold to correspond with the seasons, right? And those four courts are split between, at most, almost a thousand changelings in your Freehold. Although 'three figures' could be a whole lot less than near a thousand. But at maximum, we're talking a monarch ruling over maybe 250 people?
I admit, that's not the scale I was picturing.
[Which is to say, Claude feels a little sucker-punched right now.
It's true that he's not playing his status as Almyra's king that close to his chest anymore. Those close to him have been told, and those who aren't from his world aren't likely to care; it'd have no meaning to them. But feeling like Steven came from a king's court, directly reported to a king, had made Claude feel like they could understand each other on a deeper level, and he'd opened himself up on that belief...only to find that the monarch Steven is talking about isn't anything like the kind of king Claude was thinking of. Not a ruler of nations, but more of a small, underground community leader.
There's an absolutely intense discomfort at feeling as though he's opened himself up under false pretenses, even though he doesn't see Steven wanting to misuse that information and in fact has no idea how he could. It's just...the feeling of giving more away than he should have, than he would have if he'd known from the start what he knows now. Of having miscalculated. He hates it.
It's not Steven's fault, and Claude doesn't blame him. But he's not any happier about it. But letting on that he's feeling vulnerable would be even worse, so he buries it as best he can. Primarily by changing the subject.]
I do have to admit, though, my primary experience with assassins is being their target. It's a unique experience for me to get to chat with one.
Well, I've only got nine hunts to my name since I've taken up the position, so I'm only a moderately experienced one.
And... well, I suppose I meant for you to make the inferences you did. It's easier for people to assume I'm talking about a traditional monarchy, rather than an underground community, and it saves so much explaining if I just let people make assumptions. But then you told me about yourself and... well. I felt like I ought to give you the full explanation, since you told me things you didn't have to.
Thace appreciates a fellow information-gatherer who does solid homework, so he just nods at first.
Finally he speaks. "Steven does so like to talk about me."
A kiss on Steven's cheek after he says it, but then he's more serious. "The changes I would like to see regarding Rocket's existence or operation may not be possible, but I would be interested in at least hearing about what you would do with that information if you acquired it."
Steven's face heats up. "Yeah, I've been told I talk too much about my boyfriends when I have them. And-- my exes, even when they're long gone. I'm trying to work on being less obnoxious about it."
He sighs and shoves a hand back through his hair, a nervous, impatient gesture. "He's told me about what he'd like to see from the Team and I really don't think the Admins would buy it, unfortunately--much less the Boss, who is basically incommunicado with most of us and probably actually missing. And even if I manage to squeeze one final promotion out, they don't let people like us be Admins. Alpha's the highest we can shoot for and we don't even have one of those anymore now that--" He catches himself, then shakes his head.
"It doesn't matter now. The point is, I'm one of the three highest ranked Rockets in our little community and there's not a lot I can do to alter how the Team works on a macro level. There's only so much I can do when it comes to my fellow press-ganged."
[Ever since Felix's conversation with Greg about his wife and her battles, he's been turning over in his mind what to do about it. Maybe nothing. Maybe he should just keep this knowledge to himself. It would only cause pain and worry to tell Dimitri or Sylvain about it, and he's had enough of watching them suffer.
Claude, though, would be upset if it became relevant later and Felix hadn't told him. And Claude can obviously be trusted with it.
So Felix knocks on Claude's door one evening, without sending a message first.]
Claude can't help smiling when Thace kisses Steven. It's just...genuinely nice to see the two of them so affectionate with each other. And now that he's had it confirmed exactly who Thace was being so protective of when he and Thace first met, well...it all certainly adds up perfectly.
It's also good to see Steven with someone who clearly loves him so much, after how much Steven's relationship with Jack hurt him. Claude only has Steven's word to go on in regards to his and Thace's relationship - Claude, personally, hasn't witnessed much of it - but this seems vastly healthier for Steven, and he's glad the man has that. A partner who's deeply invested in him, as opposed to being deeply invested in Steven's investment in him as some weird egotistical thing...
"It's not obnoxious, really," Claude says aloud. "It's more that it tends to spring up in times and conversations where it doesn't have any place, like mushrooms popping up in your basement. There's nothing wrong with mushrooms in their proper place, but you shouldn't let them bud out of control wherever they like or you'll have them growing out of your ears soon enough." He grins. "But we'll both avoid digressing into more of that talk for now."
He props his chin on one hand. "To answer your question, Thace, what I'd do with more information would probably vary based on just what that information was. If you're asking me if I have some ultimate goal for Team Rocket or how I'd deal with it? I think I'd start by finding a way to identify the Rocket otherworlders in the ranks so I could extend a hand to them. Even people who might be genuine troublemakers in their own right probably don't appreciate being forced to be pawns for some two-bit gang of thieves. But, obviously, Team Rocket's got a broad reach, and a lot of coordination, and they could cause no end of trouble for anyone they've forced into service if they go rogue. Not killing trouble, since that's apparently off the table here, but there's a whole range of options for the creative and vengeful bastard that they could employ, and I don't blame anyone for not wanting to test them."
He drums the fingers of the other hand on the table. "So the first order of business would be to find a way to protect any Rocket otherworlders who want to leave. A way to protect them and hide them from Team Rocket, ensure their safety. If we could line up enough Duckletts in a row, and rather than stealing their pieces one by one could clear the board of all their pressganged agents at once in one mass exodus...it could be potentially devastating for them, and swing the balance of power significantly in our favor. Suddenly they have a lot fewer agents and pokémon, and all those people have a grudge and lots of inside information to put towards a decisive strike on Team Rocket - ideally made while they're still in chaos. And with the otherworlders who didn't have a choice in joining out of the line of fire, you'd have nothing left but people who looked at a peaceful world where money all but rains from the sky and went 'actually, I want to cause problems on purpose'. The Jennies can have all of them, for all I care."
He shrugs and smiles. "It all sounds nice on paper, of course. In practice, providing that protection to ex-Rockets in the first place would be tough. And frankly, I don't know how many pressganged Rockets are that interested in leaving, or cooperating with anyone. I can think of one I know who is the definition of difficult, if only because I'm not convinced he knows it's possible to be anything but. There's another one that hates me because I may have sprayed a Potion in his eyes when my cover was about to be blown at Christmas..." His grin turns a bit wry. "So there's definite complications. It'd take a hell of a lot of work and coordination, way more than I could do on my own. But that would be my first step - extracting the pressganged Rockets from the ones there by choice. Separating the wheat from the chaff."
You say that like you have a metric to judge against. What's the standard number of kills for a highly experienced assassin? Assassinating nine people who didn't want to die - other changelings, at that, who sound pretty unique and probably have their own strengths and weaknesses and powers - doesn't sound like that low of a number to me, in context. I mean, I've foiled multiple assassins and I'm just one guy. Nine successes - consecutive ones, possibly? - when even one stubborn asshole like me could ruin your record and quite possibly kill you back is nothing to sneeze at.
Mind you, that's just one outsider's opinion.
And hey, what can I say, you played me pretty good there. I didn't really have much business making that kind of assumption in the first place, anyway - I don't even know whether your world has monarchies that operate in what would be considered the traditional sense in my world. I should've been more careful.
Yeah, come on in! [Claude's voice is cheerful enough, though not too close to the door.
When Felix lets himself in, he'll see why; Claude is sitting on his bed, reading, with Voir the Umbreon curled up on his lap with every evidence of contentment - something like a large cat. Red eyes open languidly to study Felix for a moment, before Voir stretches slightly and shifts position. He seems very happy, and not at all inclined to let Claude get up.
Claude, for his part, sets his book down and smiles at Felix.] Hey. What's up?
Technically one of them was a Mage and two were merely powerful mortals, but point taken. And I suppose you could count them as consecutive? Not all of them went down on my first attempt, but I got all of them *eventually*.
We do have monarchies, but they're mostly constitutional monarchies these days, where the bulk of the governance is done by a Parliament or something like that and the actual monarchy itself is more for show. And my own country was always a republic, more or less.
[It is nice to know he managed to pull one over Claude, who is a very tricky customer.]
[Felix closes the door behind him and heads for the bed without being invited, giving Voir a nod of greeting before he sits down near Claude and pulls his feet up onto the bed.
There's no preamble before he says,]
Did you know that dead people can show up here, alive?
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