"Yes, because Amber is mine."
Culver is civilising his court as much as he can manage with the tools at hand. He's laid in a supply of drink, clothes, and food that isn't fruit or seared meat of dubious provenance. He welcomes Caine to his encampment and supplies them both.
Culver says, "To friendly faces. I have to assume you've spoken to your sister."
Caine looks and smells worse for wear, but then again, this is Cibola, so it's probably part of his cunning disguise. It's the company he keeps, surely: drug runners, suppliers, slave drivers, the like. Now the company he keeps is different, but in the same twisted vein. "She called to tell me you were alive, I admit to being surprised." He eats and drinks nothing, watching the Feldane intently with dark amusement.
Culver sticks to the wine, dark and raw from how fresh it is. "I tried my damnedest," he says. "But I got through it."
Culver thumps his chest. "To how you see me now."
Caine takes up wine, but not to drink just yet. "You pissed off Benedict about something, then got taken off by someone else? How many people want your head on a spike these days?"
Culver amends, "I took myself off. And, you know, I daren't stop to count the number. So it goes."
Caine nods with a smirk. "But any good reason? Are you digging around in the dirt over petty shadow hobbies? I could judge you by your enemies, though having /more/ doesn't tell me shit."
Culver splutters, and offended dignity arcs through him like a thunderbolt. "Hobbies? Hobbies!? Benedict quibbled over me taking some jumped up amateur's army to look for your Father, and I tried my best to impress upon him he should let me alone in that."
Caine lets the other's indignation pass him like a roaring wind and /almost/ sips the wine. "In that you were interested in such an undertaking or not? There's been more than a little rumble about it lately, more /posturing/ about the throne again, though it be warmed by Julian's ass now."
Culver says, "Oh, he didn't bother to ask me what undertaking I was about, that time or this time." He frowns, and makes an annoyed sound. "Julian. Well, could do worse."
Caine shrugs. "Exactly. Things are... different." He lets that sit, unformed. "What /is/ your undertaking, then?"
Culver says, "This," and he waves a hand to take in their jungle camp, the natives watching the two 'gods' talk with fear and hunger in their eyes, the thump of drums, "is just a hobby. No, I'm going to drag Jade up onto the altar, slit its throat, and on that river going down, adjust the field better to my liking."
Caine lifts his eyebrows, and in the manner of one stating his day's tasks, says, "Oh, I was prepping an invasion of Penglai, myself." It's... not clear at all if the field has become one of cooperation or turf.
Culver smiles; he has somewhat rounded teeth, and a fair number of them. "You know, I'm warmed by the idea that our sort of people will quibble over the method rather than the end result."
Caine chuckles. "Ah, but my end result is not always so clear. I wouldn't go that far yet. You want to adjust the field. So do I. What do you want there, Culver?"
Culver makes a face. "Are you asking me about the throne? I'm not bitten with that bug. Nibbled, maybe, but not bitten."
Caine spits a phrase that is unfamiliar, but certainly a curse. It is the sound of annoyed disappointment. "No, I'm not asking about that. Jade, Penglai."
Culver holds up his hands to excuse himself. "I want to spend it," he says. "Gone. Threat no more. Asset no more. Used up in a," and he rolls the word over his tongue, "good cause."
Caine leans forward at that, slowly, and regards Culver keenly. Then, "What cause?"
Culver's expression goes pained. "Do you want to spend what I offered you on that question? I'm a royalist to the core. Your Father shattered me -- me! -- and I'll do what I think right for his Amber. Specifics, well, as I say. Is that want you want to demand from me?"
Caine says, "Yes, because Amber is mine."
Culver wags his finger at Caine. "Bold words."
Caine, for a moment, looks a little inward, considering his own 'bold words'. "They were, weren't they," he murmurs. He lifts a hand, his frown more for other thoughts than Culver. "You know I am not against the idea of expending a shadow or five for Amber."
Culver says, "It sounds selfish when I put it in words. Alive or dead, I mean to reach out for your Father, and force my freedom from him. And then I'll repair as much of the frayed pieces of his Kingdom that I may."
Caine says nothing for a long minute. "It would be in your interests to let me help you, than not."
Culver says, "Fair warning -- I need to be free for as long as it takes to test myself whoever has the throne at the time. Or, let's say, deserves it."
Culver indicates Caine with a turn of his hand.
Caine's eyebrows perk. "That is a thing more wisely stated, in this context, than merely implied. It could matter a great deal."
Culver says, "Since you spent that thing on truth, I'll say this -- I flatter myself that I am a valuable dog, if you can tame me." He rubs his chins. "Beat me at what I'm good at. Outflank me. I can hardly remember how he did it now."
Culver says, "But regardless, if I accomplish this, whoever holds the throne will have to look to his back. I say this because I know that a warning will be useful, and more than useful, to you."
Caine takes a while to consider that, sitting back again. Finally, "That is my language, Culver. Fitness by adversity. The model I had settled on for Amber was one of a chair warmer with such fit people doing what needed to be done, on our own terms. Myself, Benedict, others. It is not a model that will last, it is already wavering. But know this," he says, holding up a finger. "I am not Benedict. I will do things his soul would cringe to think on. But I always do them for Amber. You have that."
Culver claps and rubs his hands together. "I have it, and I depend on it. Fabulous!"
Caine doesn't smile, sets his untouched wine down.
Culver ponders, with a finger to his lips. "An invasion would speed things up, if it were given some small direction."
Caine smirks. "You want me to talk to my /colleagues/?"
Culver lifts his eyebrows high. "Good and stout people, are they? Or," and he indicates his worshippers, "riff raff?"
Caine's lips slide back from his teeth. "Who else has invaded the Kingdom lately?"
Culver says, "Ah! Oh dear. Well, if they complain about me, let them know it was a misunderstanding then."
Culver says by way of explanation, "I was proving a point."
Caine chuckles. "I'll see what I can do, they're a little difficult to, you know, order. And I'm fresh out of Old Gods to unleash, I think. There's... yes, actually, I can manage something." Though with some odd reluctance.
Culver says, "I can't shake the feeling that I ought to hold a beforehand party in Penglai. So that everyone can fix in their heads properly what it was."
Culver says, "Although that might become ... fraught."
Caine says, "Benedict mentioned something about a change. And that changes in the Golden Circle could affect Amber. He say anything about that to you?"
Culver shakes his head. "Not to me. He was more in the frame of mind to threaten."
Culver says, "It sounds like the sort of thing he'd want to put on the table to give others pause, though."
Caine frowns, and gets to his feet. "I'll see what I can find out from on it and pass that alone. It may be something to affect strategy." He shakes his head. "No, Benedict doesn't screw with me like that. It's something. Any way to be a little more /in touch/ with you?"
Culver makes a face. "Being incommunicado has been an advantage, mostly. I have some places for dead drops, but with one thing and another it's irregular as hell how often I can get to them."
Caine waves a hand idly. "Fine, make it difficult." He seems unconcerned. "I'll find you." He turns and leaves the hobby god to his plotting.
Culver measures Caine's back between the right angles of his outstretched thumbs and forefingers. "You do that," he says. "Good times!"
Culver says, "To friendly faces. I have to assume you've spoken to your sister."
Caine looks and smells worse for wear, but then again, this is Cibola, so it's probably part of his cunning disguise. It's the company he keeps, surely: drug runners, suppliers, slave drivers, the like. Now the company he keeps is different, but in the same twisted vein. "She called to tell me you were alive, I admit to being surprised." He eats and drinks nothing, watching the Feldane intently with dark amusement.
Culver sticks to the wine, dark and raw from how fresh it is. "I tried my damnedest," he says. "But I got through it."
Culver thumps his chest. "To how you see me now."
Caine takes up wine, but not to drink just yet. "You pissed off Benedict about something, then got taken off by someone else? How many people want your head on a spike these days?"
Culver amends, "I took myself off. And, you know, I daren't stop to count the number. So it goes."
Caine nods with a smirk. "But any good reason? Are you digging around in the dirt over petty shadow hobbies? I could judge you by your enemies, though having /more/ doesn't tell me shit."
Culver splutters, and offended dignity arcs through him like a thunderbolt. "Hobbies? Hobbies!? Benedict quibbled over me taking some jumped up amateur's army to look for your Father, and I tried my best to impress upon him he should let me alone in that."
Caine lets the other's indignation pass him like a roaring wind and /almost/ sips the wine. "In that you were interested in such an undertaking or not? There's been more than a little rumble about it lately, more /posturing/ about the throne again, though it be warmed by Julian's ass now."
Culver says, "Oh, he didn't bother to ask me what undertaking I was about, that time or this time." He frowns, and makes an annoyed sound. "Julian. Well, could do worse."
Caine shrugs. "Exactly. Things are... different." He lets that sit, unformed. "What /is/ your undertaking, then?"
Culver says, "This," and he waves a hand to take in their jungle camp, the natives watching the two 'gods' talk with fear and hunger in their eyes, the thump of drums, "is just a hobby. No, I'm going to drag Jade up onto the altar, slit its throat, and on that river going down, adjust the field better to my liking."
Caine lifts his eyebrows, and in the manner of one stating his day's tasks, says, "Oh, I was prepping an invasion of Penglai, myself." It's... not clear at all if the field has become one of cooperation or turf.
Culver smiles; he has somewhat rounded teeth, and a fair number of them. "You know, I'm warmed by the idea that our sort of people will quibble over the method rather than the end result."
Caine chuckles. "Ah, but my end result is not always so clear. I wouldn't go that far yet. You want to adjust the field. So do I. What do you want there, Culver?"
Culver makes a face. "Are you asking me about the throne? I'm not bitten with that bug. Nibbled, maybe, but not bitten."
Caine spits a phrase that is unfamiliar, but certainly a curse. It is the sound of annoyed disappointment. "No, I'm not asking about that. Jade, Penglai."
Culver holds up his hands to excuse himself. "I want to spend it," he says. "Gone. Threat no more. Asset no more. Used up in a," and he rolls the word over his tongue, "good cause."
Caine leans forward at that, slowly, and regards Culver keenly. Then, "What cause?"
Culver's expression goes pained. "Do you want to spend what I offered you on that question? I'm a royalist to the core. Your Father shattered me -- me! -- and I'll do what I think right for his Amber. Specifics, well, as I say. Is that want you want to demand from me?"
Caine says, "Yes, because Amber is mine."
Culver wags his finger at Caine. "Bold words."
Caine, for a moment, looks a little inward, considering his own 'bold words'. "They were, weren't they," he murmurs. He lifts a hand, his frown more for other thoughts than Culver. "You know I am not against the idea of expending a shadow or five for Amber."
Culver says, "It sounds selfish when I put it in words. Alive or dead, I mean to reach out for your Father, and force my freedom from him. And then I'll repair as much of the frayed pieces of his Kingdom that I may."
Caine says nothing for a long minute. "It would be in your interests to let me help you, than not."
Culver says, "Fair warning -- I need to be free for as long as it takes to test myself whoever has the throne at the time. Or, let's say, deserves it."
Culver indicates Caine with a turn of his hand.
Caine's eyebrows perk. "That is a thing more wisely stated, in this context, than merely implied. It could matter a great deal."
Culver says, "Since you spent that thing on truth, I'll say this -- I flatter myself that I am a valuable dog, if you can tame me." He rubs his chins. "Beat me at what I'm good at. Outflank me. I can hardly remember how he did it now."
Culver says, "But regardless, if I accomplish this, whoever holds the throne will have to look to his back. I say this because I know that a warning will be useful, and more than useful, to you."
Caine takes a while to consider that, sitting back again. Finally, "That is my language, Culver. Fitness by adversity. The model I had settled on for Amber was one of a chair warmer with such fit people doing what needed to be done, on our own terms. Myself, Benedict, others. It is not a model that will last, it is already wavering. But know this," he says, holding up a finger. "I am not Benedict. I will do things his soul would cringe to think on. But I always do them for Amber. You have that."
Culver claps and rubs his hands together. "I have it, and I depend on it. Fabulous!"
Caine doesn't smile, sets his untouched wine down.
Culver ponders, with a finger to his lips. "An invasion would speed things up, if it were given some small direction."
Caine smirks. "You want me to talk to my /colleagues/?"
Culver lifts his eyebrows high. "Good and stout people, are they? Or," and he indicates his worshippers, "riff raff?"
Caine's lips slide back from his teeth. "Who else has invaded the Kingdom lately?"
Culver says, "Ah! Oh dear. Well, if they complain about me, let them know it was a misunderstanding then."
Culver says by way of explanation, "I was proving a point."
Caine chuckles. "I'll see what I can do, they're a little difficult to, you know, order. And I'm fresh out of Old Gods to unleash, I think. There's... yes, actually, I can manage something." Though with some odd reluctance.
Culver says, "I can't shake the feeling that I ought to hold a beforehand party in Penglai. So that everyone can fix in their heads properly what it was."
Culver says, "Although that might become ... fraught."
Caine says, "Benedict mentioned something about a change. And that changes in the Golden Circle could affect Amber. He say anything about that to you?"
Culver shakes his head. "Not to me. He was more in the frame of mind to threaten."
Culver says, "It sounds like the sort of thing he'd want to put on the table to give others pause, though."
Caine frowns, and gets to his feet. "I'll see what I can find out from on it and pass that alone. It may be something to affect strategy." He shakes his head. "No, Benedict doesn't screw with me like that. It's something. Any way to be a little more /in touch/ with you?"
Culver makes a face. "Being incommunicado has been an advantage, mostly. I have some places for dead drops, but with one thing and another it's irregular as hell how often I can get to them."
Caine waves a hand idly. "Fine, make it difficult." He seems unconcerned. "I'll find you." He turns and leaves the hobby god to his plotting.
Culver measures Caine's back between the right angles of his outstretched thumbs and forefingers. "You do that," he says. "Good times!"