You meet a few days later, on the sunny greens of a Temple Hall golf course. You're not technically allowed on there, but Truss waives the security concerns. "He's one of us, in his own way. Besides, the man had access to Temple Hall for years and didn't backstab us. He isn't going to do it from a golf course."
Russell nods his thanks at Truss. "I appreciate the recognizance." Despite this, he gives the security detail a slight, sympathetic smile -- after all, no one likes it when their boss decides to complicate their job.
He follows Truss onto the green, shifting his bag so the clubs don't smack him in the back of the head.
"So, Mr. Kobayashi." Knight-Commander Truss smiles. "To what do I owe this pleasure? I didn't remember you as much of a golf man."
"It's not something I've played regularly in quite some time," Russell tells him, echoing the smile. "It was something my dad and I used to do together, back before he passed." He surveys the area, before drawing the appropriate club. A white golf ball, painted with the blue-grey Venetian winged lion, is dropped to the ground a moment later. "I'm afraid, though, Knight-Commander, it's not purely a social call... as you've no doubt surmised." His smile turns faintly rueful.
Truss smiles. "You don't say." He shakes his head. "What a surprise. These golf courses have seen more deals than Temple Hall itself, I think. What do our friends in Venice want now?"
"That seems to be the way of the world," Russell agrees, good-natured ruefulness in his tone. He stands back, letting Truss take the first swing, before continuing.
"Darius -- " Carefully using Powell's first name, letting the implications of that fact sink in. " -- Darius feels that, with the Dawnbreak's power on a downswing, that the time has come to move other priorities onto the front burner." He meets Truss's eyes for a moment. "He just wants to be assured of your support in this matter."
Truss laughs a full, throaty chuckle and swings. His ball arcs through the air beautifully, and you realize he's genuinely quite skilled at this.
"The fact that he has to ask for my support instead of expecting it says everything I need to know. I have to admit, Kobayashi, bit disappointed in you. Was not expecting you to immediately find yourself comfortably under Powell's thumb in Venice. Your swing, chum."
Russell gives him the slightly nettled smile of someone accurately needled about an awkward subject. It's not difficult. At least it helps sell the story that he's aligning himself with Powell. Still, best not to let him think he's too chummy; no one would believe that of a former Paladin, not with such a blatant political animal as Powell. "I joined the Council because of a project I believe in. If making nice with Powell is the cost of getting traction for that project..." He shrugs theatrically as he selects the correct club.
He pauses, lines up his own shot, and swings. His form is less graceful and practiced than Truss's, but is reasonably accurate, landing on the green a meter or two from his ball. As they walk, he remarks, "I told him as much, Knight-Commander. But you've worked with him enough times to know what he's like."
Truss leads the way, shaking his head. "I do know what Powell's like. Here's some advice, Russell - can I call you Russell? First of all, Powell's corrupt. If you didn't know that, you're not the man I thought you were. But I think you do know that, and I think you've - wisely, by the way - decided you can work around him. Mr. Powell is, in some ways, a good man. Corrupt, greedy, arrogant, prideful... But a good man. And take a moment to consider some of the alternatives."
Truss frowns, approaches his ball, and watches you carefully. "But he's also a man of strange priorities. I think you and I can both agree that the Dawnbreak being on a backburner is utter bullshit."
He swings again, and then pauses and sighs. "Then again, they did hurt one of my Captains. And a Commander who lets his Captain go unavenged is a poor one, wouldn't you agree? But... let's stop talking about Powell, and start talking about Kobayashi. What do YOU want?"
"Go ahead," Russell replies. In his mind, he snarkily adds Everyone else and the mother is doing it lately. He listens as Truss speaks, not disagreeing one iota with his political assessment. Rare exceptions aside, no one gets to Knight-Commander without an awareness of how "the game" is played, and Truss's bland persona masks a keen observer.
"Yeah," he answers, his tone wry. "I don't disagree with a word you've said. Not even the part about him being better than some of the alternatives." He eyes his shot, and swings gently, grimacing as the putt delivers the ball to within less than a foot of the hole. "Told you I'm rusty..."
He strides over to the hole, glumly eyeing the flag, before turning back to Powell. "And I fully agree about the Dawnbreak. His priorities seem skewed." He taps the putter idly on the ground. "Which is why I have a proposal for you. Just because it's on the back burner, for me, doesn't mean it doesn't get dealt with at all. I fully intend to pursue them." He fishes a pack of Chesterfields out of his golf bag, and offers them to Truss, holding it so that a red flash drive is just barely visible to the other man's eyes. "You can too, now." If you have the will is carefully not said. No need for any antagonism. "Pushing from both directions, to eliminate a threat to both Temple Hall and the Sunken Library in a timely manner... who doesn't benefit?" His smile is very, very dry.
His last question, though -- that takes Russell by visible surprise, and it takes him a minute to regain his aplomb. "What do I want...?" He looks bemused, as if no one outside family or close friends has asked him that in quite some time. Finally he answers. "The cliche things -- happy home life, the same for my friends and family. Success in my career..." He taps his fingertips idly on the rim of the golf bag, to a tune Truss might be old enough to remember. "For Venice to be... fully respected and relevant again. To be able to do what it's supposed to. To play a large role in making it so. And -- " He hesitates, but adds the last part. He's heard many a Paladin (which he still considers himself, Templar or no -- has no one ever wondered why most of the Templars who join Venice come from the Ordinem Palatini?) or Witch Hunter say this, while deep in their cups. Truss has probably heard a dozen variants of this. " -- and I want to put a bullet in Erik Bosch's head... or see one of the Executioners do it. Mostly for what he did to Cass. But also for what he did to Toronto."
Truss takes the USB drive smoothly with a hand that must be practiced at makeshift deception. "Thank you, Russell."
He collects his ball from the hole and smiles, turning to the two young Knights carrying his bags.
"Smith. Petersen. Get use some water. It's a warm day, and we don't want to be dehydrated. That wouldn't do, would it?"
The two young men nod and skitter away at his word.
Truss moves closer to Kobayashi. "Let's make a deal, you and me. I'll help you with the Dawnbreak. I'll even help you with Bosch, which will be far more difficult." A pause. "Bosch was a friend of mine. Was. Before I knew who he was, what he did. What he did to my Captain. I defended him, covered him. Needless to say, I feel quite a fool over that. So, I am more than happy to help you with the Dawnbreak, and I'm positively overjoyed to help you with Bosch. In return, all you have to do is keep up that wonderful act you're playing - you know the one... the hard done by moral man being pressed to greater and greater acts of corruption by the hard world we live in. You're playing it to perfection, and I am certain it'll take you far in Venice."
He lights up an actual Chesterfield at this point and smirks at you.
"A Paladin in Venice is a useful friend to have. Let's you and I clean this world up some, shall we?"
Russell smirks back at Truss, giving him a mocking little bow. "I don't think I've ever seen compliment and insult blended into the same words so smoothly. Nicely done." Despite his words, there's no rancor in his tone, and he doesn't seem angry at the commentary on his "act" and his future in Venetian politics. (Although he certainly hopes Powell isn't that insightful.)
He nods at Truss, before replying in a less sardonic tone. "All right, I find that arrangement... honestly, more than satisfactory." He drums his fingers again on his golf bag, again to the tune of the whistling intro from "Angela." "Bosch... in some ways, I think it might be best to have him dealt with openly. But that's really up to you." His smirk becomes a wintry smile. "And I'm gratified we're of a like mind as regards him." He waits for Truss to make his swing, nodding approvingly as he sinks the ball, then adds, "Indeed. Let's clean this work up some, Liam." The smile warms slightly as he uses Truss's first name. Only fair, right? "For both Temple Hall and the Sunken Library, no?"
"Two noble institutions." Truss agrees. "May they both last forever. Now, if you don't mind... It's a beautiful day, and I'd like to focus on my game."
Russell nods his thanks at Truss. "I appreciate the recognizance." Despite this, he gives the security detail a slight, sympathetic smile -- after all, no one likes it when their boss decides to complicate their job.
He follows Truss onto the green, shifting his bag so the clubs don't smack him in the back of the head.
"So, Mr. Kobayashi." Knight-Commander Truss smiles. "To what do I owe this pleasure? I didn't remember you as much of a golf man."
"It's not something I've played regularly in quite some time," Russell tells him, echoing the smile. "It was something my dad and I used to do together, back before he passed." He surveys the area, before drawing the appropriate club. A white golf ball, painted with the blue-grey Venetian winged lion, is dropped to the ground a moment later. "I'm afraid, though, Knight-Commander, it's not purely a social call... as you've no doubt surmised." His smile turns faintly rueful.
Truss smiles. "You don't say." He shakes his head. "What a surprise. These golf courses have seen more deals than Temple Hall itself, I think. What do our friends in Venice want now?"
"That seems to be the way of the world," Russell agrees, good-natured ruefulness in his tone. He stands back, letting Truss take the first swing, before continuing.
"Darius -- " Carefully using Powell's first name, letting the implications of that fact sink in. " -- Darius feels that, with the Dawnbreak's power on a downswing, that the time has come to move other priorities onto the front burner." He meets Truss's eyes for a moment. "He just wants to be assured of your support in this matter."
Truss laughs a full, throaty chuckle and swings. His ball arcs through the air beautifully, and you realize he's genuinely quite skilled at this.
"The fact that he has to ask for my support instead of expecting it says everything I need to know. I have to admit, Kobayashi, bit disappointed in you. Was not expecting you to immediately find yourself comfortably under Powell's thumb in Venice. Your swing, chum."
Russell gives him the slightly nettled smile of someone accurately needled about an awkward subject. It's not difficult. At least it helps sell the story that he's aligning himself with Powell. Still, best not to let him think he's too chummy; no one would believe that of a former Paladin, not with such a blatant political animal as Powell. "I joined the Council because of a project I believe in. If making nice with Powell is the cost of getting traction for that project..." He shrugs theatrically as he selects the correct club.
He pauses, lines up his own shot, and swings. His form is less graceful and practiced than Truss's, but is reasonably accurate, landing on the green a meter or two from his ball. As they walk, he remarks, "I told him as much, Knight-Commander. But you've worked with him enough times to know what he's like."
Truss leads the way, shaking his head. "I do know what Powell's like. Here's some advice, Russell - can I call you Russell? First of all, Powell's corrupt. If you didn't know that, you're not the man I thought you were. But I think you do know that, and I think you've - wisely, by the way - decided you can work around him. Mr. Powell is, in some ways, a good man. Corrupt, greedy, arrogant, prideful... But a good man. And take a moment to consider some of the alternatives."
Truss frowns, approaches his ball, and watches you carefully. "But he's also a man of strange priorities. I think you and I can both agree that the Dawnbreak being on a backburner is utter bullshit."
He swings again, and then pauses and sighs. "Then again, they did hurt one of my Captains. And a Commander who lets his Captain go unavenged is a poor one, wouldn't you agree? But... let's stop talking about Powell, and start talking about Kobayashi. What do YOU want?"
"Go ahead," Russell replies. In his mind, he snarkily adds Everyone else and the mother is doing it lately. He listens as Truss speaks, not disagreeing one iota with his political assessment. Rare exceptions aside, no one gets to Knight-Commander without an awareness of how "the game" is played, and Truss's bland persona masks a keen observer.
"Yeah," he answers, his tone wry. "I don't disagree with a word you've said. Not even the part about him being better than some of the alternatives." He eyes his shot, and swings gently, grimacing as the putt delivers the ball to within less than a foot of the hole. "Told you I'm rusty..."
He strides over to the hole, glumly eyeing the flag, before turning back to Powell. "And I fully agree about the Dawnbreak. His priorities seem skewed." He taps the putter idly on the ground. "Which is why I have a proposal for you. Just because it's on the back burner, for me, doesn't mean it doesn't get dealt with at all. I fully intend to pursue them." He fishes a pack of Chesterfields out of his golf bag, and offers them to Truss, holding it so that a red flash drive is just barely visible to the other man's eyes. "You can too, now." If you have the will is carefully not said. No need for any antagonism. "Pushing from both directions, to eliminate a threat to both Temple Hall and the Sunken Library in a timely manner... who doesn't benefit?" His smile is very, very dry.
His last question, though -- that takes Russell by visible surprise, and it takes him a minute to regain his aplomb. "What do I want...?" He looks bemused, as if no one outside family or close friends has asked him that in quite some time. Finally he answers. "The cliche things -- happy home life, the same for my friends and family. Success in my career..." He taps his fingertips idly on the rim of the golf bag, to a tune Truss might be old enough to remember. "For Venice to be... fully respected and relevant again. To be able to do what it's supposed to. To play a large role in making it so. And -- " He hesitates, but adds the last part. He's heard many a Paladin (which he still considers himself, Templar or no -- has no one ever wondered why most of the Templars who join Venice come from the Ordinem Palatini?) or Witch Hunter say this, while deep in their cups. Truss has probably heard a dozen variants of this. " -- and I want to put a bullet in Erik Bosch's head... or see one of the Executioners do it. Mostly for what he did to Cass. But also for what he did to Toronto."
Truss takes the USB drive smoothly with a hand that must be practiced at makeshift deception. "Thank you, Russell."
He collects his ball from the hole and smiles, turning to the two young Knights carrying his bags.
"Smith. Petersen. Get use some water. It's a warm day, and we don't want to be dehydrated. That wouldn't do, would it?"
The two young men nod and skitter away at his word.
Truss moves closer to Kobayashi. "Let's make a deal, you and me. I'll help you with the Dawnbreak. I'll even help you with Bosch, which will be far more difficult." A pause. "Bosch was a friend of mine. Was. Before I knew who he was, what he did. What he did to my Captain. I defended him, covered him. Needless to say, I feel quite a fool over that. So, I am more than happy to help you with the Dawnbreak, and I'm positively overjoyed to help you with Bosch. In return, all you have to do is keep up that wonderful act you're playing - you know the one... the hard done by moral man being pressed to greater and greater acts of corruption by the hard world we live in. You're playing it to perfection, and I am certain it'll take you far in Venice."
He lights up an actual Chesterfield at this point and smirks at you.
"A Paladin in Venice is a useful friend to have. Let's you and I clean this world up some, shall we?"
Russell smirks back at Truss, giving him a mocking little bow. "I don't think I've ever seen compliment and insult blended into the same words so smoothly. Nicely done." Despite his words, there's no rancor in his tone, and he doesn't seem angry at the commentary on his "act" and his future in Venetian politics. (Although he certainly hopes Powell isn't that insightful.)
He nods at Truss, before replying in a less sardonic tone. "All right, I find that arrangement... honestly, more than satisfactory." He drums his fingers again on his golf bag, again to the tune of the whistling intro from "Angela." "Bosch... in some ways, I think it might be best to have him dealt with openly. But that's really up to you." His smirk becomes a wintry smile. "And I'm gratified we're of a like mind as regards him." He waits for Truss to make his swing, nodding approvingly as he sinks the ball, then adds, "Indeed. Let's clean this work up some, Liam." The smile warms slightly as he uses Truss's first name. Only fair, right? "For both Temple Hall and the Sunken Library, no?"
"Two noble institutions." Truss agrees. "May they both last forever. Now, if you don't mind... It's a beautiful day, and I'd like to focus on my game."