Random Scene -- ODaaT, ch 21
Feel free to ignore this -- I started writing this scene yesterday after taking a week-long hiatus on ODaaT, and I'm so glad I did. Mitchel is just... sigh. I love him. I love him so much.
For the most part, Jazz was okay. He pulled himself out of bed the next morning. Climbed into his shower. Washed his hair, scrubbed off Casio’s scent from his body, and shaved, all like he would have usually done.
That day proceeded just the same as many others. The Council meeting quick, almost painless. Casio the whole time kept his distance and his eyes off Jazz. He seemed more confident than usual; his professional smile a little wider. Jazz tried not to look at him in exchange; he kept his head down and his voice low when he spoke. They didn’t have any meetings with colonies or neighboring countries to go to later, either.
A quick day, that’s what it should have been. Except when the Council meeting drew to a close, Casio’s eyes met his, and Jazz felt his blood thicken and turn to sludge in his veins. Maybe he couldn’t do this. Maybe he’d have to avoid being anywhere near Casio forever. Maybe --
“Is there anything my Council would like to discuss?” Casio asked, clearing his throat and pulling his eyes away from Jazz’s. He looked out over the thick wooden table, his eyes meeting with each member’s one by one.
“Yes,” Mitchel said, clearing his throat. “It has been several months since your terminal diagnosis, Emperor. Pardon my lack of tact, but have you determined who it is you wish to replace you as Emperor, once you are too ill to run it, yourself?”
The entire room fell silent, and Jazz felt his shoulders tense at the question. His bottom lip itched to hide itself behind his teeth, but he resisted the urge and instead sat up straighter, just as everyone else. He avoided Mitchel’s eyes, too, as the other man glanced in his direction, as if daring him to speak.
“I have,” Casio said, folding his hands on top of the table. He cleared his throat again, and this time devolved into a racking coughing fit. The rest of the Council waited his answer, their eyes all focused on a single point: Casio himself as he recovered, a hand splayed against his chest and his breathing still labored. “I have not yet determined that it is time to share my decision with my Council, however,” he added, straightening his back.
“Why not?” Heninger asked, his brow furrowing.
“I am not ill enough to step down,” came Casio’s weighted response. He frowned, seeming to have finally caught his breath as he kept his eyes forward and focused. “Be rest assured, I will inform you all once I believe it is time to do so. For now, you are all to operate as though you could be next in line for the throne.”
“Isn’t that a little disingenuous?” Smith asked, her glasses doing nothing to hide the furrows created by her frown. “We are considered to be the best and brightest within the Empire -- I’m sure we all can surmise who it is you intend to replace you.” She gave Jazz a pointed look as she spoke; the rest of the Council seemed to follow her gaze.
Jazz found himself sinking a little in his seat, his face burning and his lip caught underneath his teeth as he refused to look at any of them. Instead, he kept his eyes forward and on Mitchel, whose hands had also folded themselves on top of the table.
“I have to agree with Smith, Emperor Casio,” Bromley said, brushing thinning hair over the top of his head. “Has Callahan even received any training for the position? Not to mention his age --”
“No one said anything about Callahan, did they, Bromley?” Murdock asked, her delicate voice raising louder than Jazz thought he’d ever heard it. “I assumed Emperor Casio had Foraker in mind.”
“And this is precisely why I did not wish to discuss my choice with my Council,” Casio said, his voice firm and cutting as it made its way across the room. “I have no need to listen to you all argue amongst yourselves over what is ultimately my decision to make. This is my Empire I am handing to someone else. It is my responsibility to make a choice, not any of yours.”
“Shouldn’t we have a say?” Smith asked, pulling her glasses off her face and wiping them with a small patch of fabric she had hidden away below the table. “We are your Council, Emperor. We are here to provide you with advice.”
Casio rose to his feet. “You are -- but who should succeed me is not a decision either one of you should make,” he said, slipping his hands inside his pockets. He began to walk around the edge of the Council room table, making his way towards Jazz’s seat. “It’s no secret to me that quite a few of you covet my position; that there are probably one or two of you who believe you could do a better job than I have. Why should I let ego get in the way of my decision?”
“You shouldn’t,” Jazz answered, knowing full well the question likely was rhetorical. Except he couldn’t seem to stop the words from spilling out of his mouth, which just made them all turn towards him once again. “Being Emperor is not an easy task. It’s not -- it’s not a job anyone should want, really.”
“Precisely,” Casio said. Jazz felt hands rest on his shoulders, and it took everything in his power not to shudder under the touch. To not close his eyes in a tight wince. “Jasper here understands. He has since day one. He never once questioned my belief that this is a decision I should make alone.”
“Actually...” Jazz shrugged away from Casio’s hands, feeling his face burn again as he turned in his chair to look up at Casio. “I wouldn’t mind putting the position to a vote amongst the Council -- with the stipulation that we can’t vote for ourselves, of course.”
Casio’s mouth closed, his lips thinning as his eyes bore down on Jazz. “Jasper --!”
“Hear me out,” Jazz said, turning away from Casio and focusing on his fellow Councilors, instead. “We are all capable of running this Empire. We all have helped you run it, some of us longer than others. We know its ins and outs. We all know each others strengths and weaknesses. Perhaps, if you’d let us take a vote on who should get to succeed you --”
“My mind is already made up, Callahan,” Casio muttered, stepping away from Jazz and moving back toward his seat. “And it is likely the Council would agree with me on who should succeed me.”
“You can’t possibly know that, Emperor,” Mitchel said, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. “I believe Callahan’s idea has merit. Ultimately, our vote could simply be cast aside if it doesn’t line up with your views, but it will also give your Council a chance to make themselves heard, as well. Seems rather fair, if you ask me. It’ll also give Callahan a chance to determine whether succeeding you is something he truly wants.”
Mitchel tightened his jaw at the end of his words, his gaze never once leaving Casio’s as he spoke. He raised his chin, a slight frown on his face as Casio didn’t immediately respond.
“Council dismissed,” Casio said after a moment, collapsing back into his seat. “There is no need for this discussion.”
“I disagree,” Mitchel responded, remaining seated while everyone else had began to at least rummage through their notes to put them away. Jazz, too, remained where he was, his back aching as his shoulders bunched even closer together. “Your attraction to Callahan is clearly clouding your judgment.”
Casio’s mouth fell open, and Jazz did everything in his power not to hide his face behind his hands. He kept his eyes on Mitchel, feeling his whole body tremble as Casio snapped his jaw shut and glanced at Jazz. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Foraker,” he said finally, clearing his throat. “I’m straight.”
Mitchel scoffed, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Please, Emperor,” he began, leaning forward over the table, his fingers running down the length of his tie. “Anyone with a pair of eyes knows differently. You have been attracted to Callahan since the moment you laid eyes on him; it was only by chance that he is as skilled with politics as he is, so you could justify keeping him close.”
“Council. Dismissed,” Casio repeated, the words uttered through barely moving lips.
The rest of the Council shifted, the air in the room growing all too warm for Jazz as he began to gather his things. The rest of the Council seemed to follow his lead, and Casio’s tight-lipped expression never seemed to move from Mitchel’s face, not even as Mitchel relaxed against the back of his chair.
As they filtered out one by one, Jazz heard the whispers surrounding him. The ones that contained his name and the ones that didn’t. While he couldn’t hear their exact words, he could probably guess what was being said. Mitchel, just like him, remained in his seat, examining his nails instead of cleaning up his own bundle of notes.
“Callahan, please leave,” Casio said, anger barely controlled in his voice. “I wish to have a word with Foraker, alone.”
Jazz blinked, finally placing his notes inside his bag. As he zipped it up, he got up from his seat and finally turned his attention on Casio. The man glared back at him, then glared at Mitchel as he folded his arms over his chest and rested his back against his chair, fingers tapping against the inside of his arm.
“Callahan,” Casio barked. “Leave.”
He didn’t need to be told once more.
For the most part, Jazz was okay. He pulled himself out of bed the next morning. Climbed into his shower. Washed his hair, scrubbed off Casio’s scent from his body, and shaved, all like he would have usually done.
That day proceeded just the same as many others. The Council meeting quick, almost painless. Casio the whole time kept his distance and his eyes off Jazz. He seemed more confident than usual; his professional smile a little wider. Jazz tried not to look at him in exchange; he kept his head down and his voice low when he spoke. They didn’t have any meetings with colonies or neighboring countries to go to later, either.
A quick day, that’s what it should have been. Except when the Council meeting drew to a close, Casio’s eyes met his, and Jazz felt his blood thicken and turn to sludge in his veins. Maybe he couldn’t do this. Maybe he’d have to avoid being anywhere near Casio forever. Maybe --
“Is there anything my Council would like to discuss?” Casio asked, clearing his throat and pulling his eyes away from Jazz’s. He looked out over the thick wooden table, his eyes meeting with each member’s one by one.
“Yes,” Mitchel said, clearing his throat. “It has been several months since your terminal diagnosis, Emperor. Pardon my lack of tact, but have you determined who it is you wish to replace you as Emperor, once you are too ill to run it, yourself?”
The entire room fell silent, and Jazz felt his shoulders tense at the question. His bottom lip itched to hide itself behind his teeth, but he resisted the urge and instead sat up straighter, just as everyone else. He avoided Mitchel’s eyes, too, as the other man glanced in his direction, as if daring him to speak.
“I have,” Casio said, folding his hands on top of the table. He cleared his throat again, and this time devolved into a racking coughing fit. The rest of the Council waited his answer, their eyes all focused on a single point: Casio himself as he recovered, a hand splayed against his chest and his breathing still labored. “I have not yet determined that it is time to share my decision with my Council, however,” he added, straightening his back.
“Why not?” Heninger asked, his brow furrowing.
“I am not ill enough to step down,” came Casio’s weighted response. He frowned, seeming to have finally caught his breath as he kept his eyes forward and focused. “Be rest assured, I will inform you all once I believe it is time to do so. For now, you are all to operate as though you could be next in line for the throne.”
“Isn’t that a little disingenuous?” Smith asked, her glasses doing nothing to hide the furrows created by her frown. “We are considered to be the best and brightest within the Empire -- I’m sure we all can surmise who it is you intend to replace you.” She gave Jazz a pointed look as she spoke; the rest of the Council seemed to follow her gaze.
Jazz found himself sinking a little in his seat, his face burning and his lip caught underneath his teeth as he refused to look at any of them. Instead, he kept his eyes forward and on Mitchel, whose hands had also folded themselves on top of the table.
“I have to agree with Smith, Emperor Casio,” Bromley said, brushing thinning hair over the top of his head. “Has Callahan even received any training for the position? Not to mention his age --”
“No one said anything about Callahan, did they, Bromley?” Murdock asked, her delicate voice raising louder than Jazz thought he’d ever heard it. “I assumed Emperor Casio had Foraker in mind.”
“And this is precisely why I did not wish to discuss my choice with my Council,” Casio said, his voice firm and cutting as it made its way across the room. “I have no need to listen to you all argue amongst yourselves over what is ultimately my decision to make. This is my Empire I am handing to someone else. It is my responsibility to make a choice, not any of yours.”
“Shouldn’t we have a say?” Smith asked, pulling her glasses off her face and wiping them with a small patch of fabric she had hidden away below the table. “We are your Council, Emperor. We are here to provide you with advice.”
Casio rose to his feet. “You are -- but who should succeed me is not a decision either one of you should make,” he said, slipping his hands inside his pockets. He began to walk around the edge of the Council room table, making his way towards Jazz’s seat. “It’s no secret to me that quite a few of you covet my position; that there are probably one or two of you who believe you could do a better job than I have. Why should I let ego get in the way of my decision?”
“You shouldn’t,” Jazz answered, knowing full well the question likely was rhetorical. Except he couldn’t seem to stop the words from spilling out of his mouth, which just made them all turn towards him once again. “Being Emperor is not an easy task. It’s not -- it’s not a job anyone should want, really.”
“Precisely,” Casio said. Jazz felt hands rest on his shoulders, and it took everything in his power not to shudder under the touch. To not close his eyes in a tight wince. “Jasper here understands. He has since day one. He never once questioned my belief that this is a decision I should make alone.”
“Actually...” Jazz shrugged away from Casio’s hands, feeling his face burn again as he turned in his chair to look up at Casio. “I wouldn’t mind putting the position to a vote amongst the Council -- with the stipulation that we can’t vote for ourselves, of course.”
Casio’s mouth closed, his lips thinning as his eyes bore down on Jazz. “Jasper --!”
“Hear me out,” Jazz said, turning away from Casio and focusing on his fellow Councilors, instead. “We are all capable of running this Empire. We all have helped you run it, some of us longer than others. We know its ins and outs. We all know each others strengths and weaknesses. Perhaps, if you’d let us take a vote on who should get to succeed you --”
“My mind is already made up, Callahan,” Casio muttered, stepping away from Jazz and moving back toward his seat. “And it is likely the Council would agree with me on who should succeed me.”
“You can’t possibly know that, Emperor,” Mitchel said, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. “I believe Callahan’s idea has merit. Ultimately, our vote could simply be cast aside if it doesn’t line up with your views, but it will also give your Council a chance to make themselves heard, as well. Seems rather fair, if you ask me. It’ll also give Callahan a chance to determine whether succeeding you is something he truly wants.”
Mitchel tightened his jaw at the end of his words, his gaze never once leaving Casio’s as he spoke. He raised his chin, a slight frown on his face as Casio didn’t immediately respond.
“Council dismissed,” Casio said after a moment, collapsing back into his seat. “There is no need for this discussion.”
“I disagree,” Mitchel responded, remaining seated while everyone else had began to at least rummage through their notes to put them away. Jazz, too, remained where he was, his back aching as his shoulders bunched even closer together. “Your attraction to Callahan is clearly clouding your judgment.”
Casio’s mouth fell open, and Jazz did everything in his power not to hide his face behind his hands. He kept his eyes on Mitchel, feeling his whole body tremble as Casio snapped his jaw shut and glanced at Jazz. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Foraker,” he said finally, clearing his throat. “I’m straight.”
Mitchel scoffed, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Please, Emperor,” he began, leaning forward over the table, his fingers running down the length of his tie. “Anyone with a pair of eyes knows differently. You have been attracted to Callahan since the moment you laid eyes on him; it was only by chance that he is as skilled with politics as he is, so you could justify keeping him close.”
“Council. Dismissed,” Casio repeated, the words uttered through barely moving lips.
The rest of the Council shifted, the air in the room growing all too warm for Jazz as he began to gather his things. The rest of the Council seemed to follow his lead, and Casio’s tight-lipped expression never seemed to move from Mitchel’s face, not even as Mitchel relaxed against the back of his chair.
As they filtered out one by one, Jazz heard the whispers surrounding him. The ones that contained his name and the ones that didn’t. While he couldn’t hear their exact words, he could probably guess what was being said. Mitchel, just like him, remained in his seat, examining his nails instead of cleaning up his own bundle of notes.
“Callahan, please leave,” Casio said, anger barely controlled in his voice. “I wish to have a word with Foraker, alone.”
Jazz blinked, finally placing his notes inside his bag. As he zipped it up, he got up from his seat and finally turned his attention on Casio. The man glared back at him, then glared at Mitchel as he folded his arms over his chest and rested his back against his chair, fingers tapping against the inside of his arm.
“Callahan,” Casio barked. “Leave.”
He didn’t need to be told once more.