Trust and lack thereof

[proudambassador]

Characters: Alfred Bester equivocal_means, Londo Mollari proudambassador
When: Saturday or Sunday, it doesn't matter much
Where: Londo's little house
Rating: G
Summary: Two men from the same world who are used to power and hatred meet to come to an agreement about housing.

Comments

[proudambassador]

Londo gave Bester a matching smile. He was good at matching smiles. "It is no matter. It is only a little thing." And, of course, it would put Bester in his debt, as well. It was better to have people in his debt than be in theirs. "Yes, they are. This city, it is far from normal."

Taking a seat near the Telepath, Londo offered a glass. "Water? It is blessedly not flat. I could turn it into a type of punch, but the only flavor I have left is red, and I am not particularly fond of the red. And no, I do not think we are much suited to dealing with the whims of others, hm?" At least they had minor things in common.

"I am not altogether certain this world is an accident. There is enough food and water to keep the population sustained, and enough events come up to keep the masses off-balance. But I know of no one who is capable of creating such a thing." He frowned. What did he know that was of use? Very little. "There are... things... that call themselves the Animus, yes? And every few weeks, they change something about the city. Sometimes, the buildings vanish and there are more monsters. Other times, friends show up for only a short while. I have heard of other things happening as well, people growing older or younger, being forced to sing... It is a headache."

[equivocal_means]

Well, if he was going to be stuck around mundanes at all, at least Londo was capable of acting polite. So very few among the regular population bothered, for some reason. And as entertaining as insults and blatant jealousy on the part of normals could be, it wasn't a good thing to live around, even for a short while.

Nodding thanks for the water, he accepted the glass. "In the wrong hands, after all, whims are dangerous things."

He drank slowly, thinking. "If it's not an accident, what is it? Do you believe all of that talk about the world being compressed space?" Even airing the idea didn't lessen the absurdity. Certainly, there was exceptional technology out there, waiting to be made or rediscovered, but this? "You mentioned these Animus before - what are they? The people in charge?"

[proudambassador]

"They are," Londo remarked. Especially when it came to Mr. Morden and Lord Refa. Things always needed to be in the proper hands - whims, power, reigns, secrets. And, of course, his hands were the best place for such things.

Londo drank as well. He had no desire to become dehydrated. "If I had something else to believe, I would be glad to ignore the talk of some place being compressed. But there is nothing else. Not only are we without theories, when the scientists talk, they support the theory." Londo chuckled wryly. If compressed space was difficult to believe, Bester was in for even more of a shock.

"The Animus are not people, as we think, no. They are said to be spirits, and they do not appear to be altogether sane. As far as I am aware, they are not in charge of anything, but nothing is in charge of them, which is a dangerous thing, hm?"

[equivocal_means]

Bester watched him, slightly startled to realize that the Centauri actually believed this. He kept the scanning light, unnoticable to anyone who wasn't a telepath; all he wanted was confirmation of beliefs. It still wouldn't prove that any of it was true, but it did lend some weight to the idea that it was commonly held knowledge.

"Is there much dialogue with the scientists?" he asked. If, somehow, the world really was how everyone said it was - that it wasn't just some mental projection he couldn't break through - the logical thing to do was to go to those who'd initiated the problem, to find out precisely what could be done about it.

At the description of the Animus, he gave the other man an amused look, and shook his head slightly. "And insane spectres wander the city. Or whatever this place is. Was." If buildings did mysteriously rearrange themselves, along with populations of monsters, it wasn't altogether surprising that the end result would be somewhat destructive. "Does anyone work with the spirits, know what they're after?"

[proudambassador]

Londo was completely unaware of Bester's scan. He had no way of telling when he was scanned, or even of stopping such an action. He was as mundane as could be in that area. He shook his head in reply to Bester's question. "No, no, there is not. And that is bothersome. Every once in a great while we will get a static-filled message that gets the hopes up of many, and then gives nothing of use. One is named Greg, another is a professor. What good does that knowledge do, I ask? Nothing. It is useless."

"Sooner or later, you will hear them talk. Likely, sooner. They do not stay quiet for long, no. They are like children, making messes and proud of the trouble they have caused." Again, Londo shook his head. "Many have tried talking to them, tried understanding them. They have all been mocked in various ways. I do not believe they want someone to work with them."

He'd answered many questions. Now there was something he'd like to know in return. "Tell me, Mr. Bester. You said there were rumors regarding my people and this Alliance of Captain Sheridan's? What would these rumors be, hm?"

[[ooc: Sorry about the delay in response, my computer went for a visit with the tech guys.]]

[equivocal_means]

The honesty still surprised him a little - though he supposed that it probably shouldn't have. After all, Londo wouldn't have had anything to gain from lying to him, especially knowing that he was a telepath. Not that that fact ever kept mundanes from trying to lie to him all the time anyway - as if he wouldn't notice. Bester was under no illusions that the Centauri trusted him or his word not to scan; not that he'd actually promised that he wouldn't - after all, he'd only mentioned that it was against the rules. Whether he followed those rules was an entirely separate issue.

But as refeshing as honesty was, it didn't do him much good when the information was unhelpful. Or rather, unwelcome. He looked down at the table, almost distant. "Thank you for the help."

At the question in return, he smiled again. "I hear a lot of things, Ambassador. If you're from the past, then you haven't heard about these strange attacks, targeting ships from the Alliance worlds. It's been a mystery who was behind it."

((OOC: Don't worry about it. ♥ I hope your computer is better for its vacation.))

[proudambassador]

The day Londo stood to gain something from lying, he would lie. He had no qualms about deceit. It was just another tool. But especially while he was talking to a telepath, he would tell the truth when it didn't cost him. There was also a chance that informing Mr. Bester would set the telepath in motion in ways that were productive. Who best to send against hidden scientists?

"You are quite welcome. Do tell me if it leads anywhere, yes?" It was polite enough, but it wasn't quite a request. He had no hold over the other, but certainly Bester could see the positives of keeping Londo in the loop.

The answer was rather unsatisfactory. It was far too vague. "Then let us discuss things I know more of, yes? This civil war, you Earthers fighting each other, Babylon 5 declaring independence, how did that go? Obviously Sheridan did not fall into too much trouble, if he is now leading an alliance, hm?"

[equivocal_means]

The man's 'request' didn't strike him as strange at all, and he nodded briefly. "Of course." So long as there was something to gain from it, but that went without saying.

"Earth's moving back on track, you could say. Clark's dead - took his own life, rather than be captured. Sheridan gave up his old position to become president of his new little Alliance. He's still on Babylon 5, as is most of the command staff, last I saw." Not that he enjoyed being familiar with the damned place.

[proudambassador]

Londo smiled. It was not a common sight in this city. "Quite excellent." If they could both gain from it, so much the better. He had no illusions about how quickly any sort of trade would end when it was no longer profitable.

Nodding, he considered the information. It didn't give him anything he could use, unfortunately. "And what of Centauri and Narn during this time? What of G'Kar? He is still on the station, being a thorn in everyone's side, yes?"

[equivocal_means]

"The Centauri and Narn? At peace for some time," he answered simply. The affairs of aliens weren't something he had time to spend on; there were too many things to organize back home.

At the other question, he had to pause for a moment to think. He eventually answered slowly, as if not entirely sure. "I didn't see him, the last time I was there. But then, he's not someone I tend to inquire over." And neither was the station, despite how many times he'd ended up having to visit it.

[proudambassador]

It made sense that he wasn't getting much in the way of answers; Bester was no doubt busy enough with Earth matters. Londo was likely not going to get much that was important to him from Bester when it came to matters on the station. "I understand. And it is a busy place, the station, no?"

Londo decided he could deal with this human for a bit. "I have a second room. It has a little cot, the same size as my own, and that is all. If you want to use it for now, you may. Feel free to find better things for the room, hm? It is back there, the one on the right. The bathroom, that is the door at the end of the hall." He would not try to persuade Bester to stay, he had no need for company in his little house. But he would not object to it either.

[equivocal_means]

"Quite busy." That much never seemed to change. Still, that wasn't a bad thing; it kept them occupied with themselves, and less likely to prod around things at home, get in the way of his own plans. Not that he really considered the station much, but whenever he did, it was always quite annoying.

Bester nodded at Londo's description. "Thank you for the room. This... does not seem like a world that's very forgiving to anyone without shelter." The wreckage he'd seen on the walk over had been discouraging, though perhaps it would look better in the morning. As for how long the Centauri's hospitality would last, he wasn't sure; but for the moment at least, it made some sense to keep an eye on the one person who was from his world. Well, universe, anyway. At least until he could be certain there weren't others.

[proudambassador]

Londo liked the bustle. Too much quiet meant too much thinking, and probably meant that he was not getting enough credit back on homeworld.

"You are welcome," Londo said. Of course he would wind up inviting someone in who didn't have any hunting supoerpowers like most of the city seemed to. Apparently canned food was still the primary meal on the menu. "I have learned that this world is not forgiving of very much at all. One misstep and you are dead and coming back to life missing something important, hm? I am not altogether certain whether it is better to return to life or be dead in that case. I hope I do not land in the circumstances to know the final answer to that."

[equivocal_means]

Bester couldn't keep from giving him an odd look. "Returning to life? So, when you die, nothing happens? Nothing in the sense that it's a minor inconvenience rather than... something a bit less minor."

Rather than comforting, the idea was a little troubling. "How?"

[proudambassador]

"No, I did not say that it was a minor inconvenience." Londo shook his head for emphasis. "Anyone who dies, loses something important to themselves, yes? One person has lost an arm, others have lost memories, others have lost powers. It is different for every person, with no way to predict it." He shrugged. "And thus the reason why I have avoided death even more here."

[equivocal_means]

This also was true. Or at least believed, but there wasn't much he could do for the moment but take the information as it was. Bester looked aside, silent for a few moments, considering the implications. Someplace where death didn't operate? Intriguing, despite the cost.

"It's a good idea to avoid it anyway," he commented finally. "Healthier. You've seen this process yourself?"