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Post by Floraelia Devinian on Aug 13, 2015 8:50:46 GMT -5
{ Location Change from City Seat to Second District Council Office }
The Mithrian's smile deepened just a touch before she fully turned away from the CEO and exited the lift. The possibility of seeing him later that night was a welcome one and she'd lightly hold him to his word that he'd find time. In waiting for Ishmaél to follow her Floraelia managed to offer one last glance as the door slid to a close, her expression light, but not difficult to decipher: the Mithrian now had something to look forward to later in the evening.
When Ishmaél began to follow her, Floraelia turned smoothly and led him to the door to her office, pausing only to place her right hand palm-down on the glowing console directly next to the door. There was a pause and then the sound of a pressure release before the door clicked to allow them entry. The Mithrian crossed the frame into the small foyer preceding the main body of her office, turning slightly to offer Ishmaél welcome into her professional space. The office itself was well-lit and themed mostly in white with the occasional grey accent here and there. There was a terminal and a desk, plenty of books and not much else. It would be obvious Floraelia did not spend a considerable amount of time locked away in that space or else that she had never chosen to furnish the room with anything more personal. The white-haired Mithrian gestured for Ishmaél to claim one of the seats opposite her desk while she herself chose one for herself: Floraelia preferred not to place the desk between them, perhaps a signifier of her fondness for the older man. As First District's Council-Elect spoke Floraelia watched him, dipping her chin in acknowledgement of the truth in them.
"Ishmaél, there is nothing I wouldn't do to offer assistance, especially in light of your current circumstances. If I had one candidate, much less multiples in mind, I'd give you the list in its entirety. Unfortunately I find myself coming up short as well for the moment, though I expect I will be spending a week of sleepless nights sorting through for the right candidate."
Floraelia's expression turned rueful then, aware that she was imparting a less-than-desirable lack of prospects.
"Part of the problem I'm encountering is that I find myself unable to sign my name to someone I feel isn't completely qualified. . ."
The Mithrian shook her head, dropping her gaze away for a moment.
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Post by Ishmaél Mirr on Aug 13, 2015 22:26:38 GMT -5
Ishmaél had always found Floraelia’s office to his liking – the woman’s simple taste very much reflected his own, and the bright space therefore left no room for distractions, and simultaneously projected a representation of its owner’s openness to any who cared to venture inside. To some, the near-sterility of the space might make it seem as though Floraelia herself was empty, hollow, or illy-invested in her surroundings, but Ishmaél knew better: some, like she of the fair hair and bright eyes, simply did not need to fill up the space around them with their own personality. Instead, they left room for others.
The Vagrant took a seat and nodded in recognition of Floraelia’s conundrum. Crossing his legs and placing his hands over the topmost knee, Ishmaél quirked a brow in apparent surprise to the woman’s admission that she had no candidates, and for a moment, the man himself seemed thoughtful. Finally, after a moment of contemplation, Ishmaél spoke in response, his deep voice cutting right to the heart of the matter he had wished to address, though to Floraelia, it might seem more reminiscent of idle conversation or musing than definitively-crafted rhetoric.
”I meant what I said with regards to your judge of character, Floraelia, and therefore cannot be surprised that you would not endorse anyone you do not wholly support. Such a position speaks to your integrity.”
Ishmaél smiled lightly, though as always, the expression never changed the dull cast of his eyes.
”Though it might be considered poaching, I had given some thought to approaching the aide of our corporate friend from the elevator – Aidan, I believe her name is. She seems quite capable of handling Aeorex’s business, to the point that it is rumored that she is the reason for his continued success. What is your opinion of Miss Aidan? Surely you have met her before – I cannot say that I’ve had the pleasure.”
Ishmaél watched the white-haired Counselor’s expression carefully for clues – not that he had much need to, considering that Floraelia seemed to make little real effort to hide her feelings from him when they were in private. Over his time with Virianus, the Vagrant had established a relationship of trust with the Magistrate’s daughter, and therefore he was certain she would be frank with him in his query. A good thing it was, indeed, since the frank nature of Floraelia’s opinions were what Ishmaél was currently counting on.
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Post by Floraelia Devinian on Aug 29, 2015 22:46:36 GMT -5
Floraelia's gemstone green eyes rose to find Ishmaél's gaze when he continued. She found her own lips curving in response― she'd always found smiles to be the most infectious sort of expression― and it helped that her favorite of her father's advisors had not spoken unkindly of her lack of waiting candidates. She listened intently as he continued on, her expression freezing in place quite suddenly when he spoke the name of Aeorex's Chief Operating Officer. To be clear, her smile did not melt away. It simply seemed to be stuck in place. As far as poker faces went it would have required someone to know Floraelia remarkably well to even realize she'd reacted to the name. There wasn't a skipped beat before the Mithrian responded smoothly.
"Aidan Dirieté?"
It was a stall while she collected her thoughts. Of course she knew precisely who Aidan was. She also understood that she was having an extremely visceral reaction to the idea of anyone considering the woman for a Seat on the Council.
"I have met her, yes."
Floraelia cleared her throat subtly.
"She was an incredibly bright young girl that has grown to be a remarkable woman. She seems to be quite capable in her role with Ouroboros."
Another pause.
"With that being said I am truthfully skeptical of her potential ability to be held responsible for an entire District― especially considering the Seats that are vacant."
It was true that Ouroboros was a fairly expansive corporation and Aidan was apparently responsible for any given number of things and Floraelia had seen firsthand the woman's extraordinary ability to not only keep Aeorex himself on task, but to also maintain a workflow that spoke of an intense work ethic. Even with all of this Floraelia couldn't properly articulate why she had such strong misgivings about her qualifications. She could rationalize that it was potentially exactly what Ishmaél said― poaching― and they were doing Aeorex a disservice by considering her.
But the Mithrian knew better.
It wasn't any fear of betraying Aeorex that drove her to implicitly disapprove of Aidan. It was her lack of warmth. It was her unwavering stare. It was the way she'd changed over the years from a bright, eager young girl to a coldly detached woman. The truth was that Aidan caused Floraelia some measure of discomfort and although she couldn’t suitably explain why, she knew deep down that nominating Aidan wasn't an option she'd willingly support― even if Aeorex supplied her as his nominee himself. Floraelia was undecided as to whether or not she would share any of that information with Ishmaél: she was fairly certain he'd deem her utterly foolish, especially in light of Aidan's impeccable record.
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Post by Ishmaél Mirr on Aug 29, 2015 23:24:00 GMT -5
Ishmael regarded Floraelia carefully as she spoke. Though the minutia of her changes in expression might be unnoticeable to most, for the Vagrant they were as clear as signs etched in the lights of the night sky, both because of his knowledge of the woman opposite him, and because of his extensive study of humanoid mannerisms. Floraelia did well to keep her thoughts to herself, at least in so far as explaining her reasoning: Ishmael hardly cared why she looked disfavorably on Aeorex’s second-in-command. What he did care for, however, is that Floraelia had come to the right conclusion, which meant she was ripe and ready for the next idea to be planted.
Feigning half-hearted surprise, the same kind of deadpanned expressions that the Vagrant always made, Ishmaél responded to Floraelia as carefully as she had responded to him.
”Oh? Having met here, I am sure your assessment is accurate, my dear: as I said, your judgement of character has been shown to be quite impeccable. If, even despite her obvious qualifications, Miss Dirieté, as you say, is not suitable, then I am certain you have a reason. Very well, I shall be forced to look elsewhere.”
The Vagrant appeared thoughtful for a moment, as if he were considering other potential candidates to speak about, but instead of changing the subject to another potential Councilor, Ishmael canted his head to the side and looked slightly quizzically at Floraelia.
”Yet, if you or I do not choose Aeorex’s aid, surely he may: and, if as you said, she is not fit to take one of the available positions, and clearly will not garner either your nor my support in voting, then Aeorex will have lost an opportunity to enhance his standing and influence among the Council, for surely Søren and Callixta shall not support his choice.”
Again, Ishmael chose to look thoughtful, though in truth he was simply gauging his conversation partner’s reactions.
”Ah, perhaps he shall find a better choice instead. Speaking of: if not Aidan, what is your opinion on your father’s most cherished Operative, Dorya?”
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Post by Floraelia Devinian on Aug 30, 2015 0:19:51 GMT -5
Floraelia very carefully allowed her smile to slide into an expression that was more or less pleasant neutrality when Ishmaél once again began to speak, forcing herself not to react visibly to his surprise. Unfortunately her expression turned mildly sheepish at his last remark. That verdant gaze slid to one side and her cheeks colored very lightly though, once he continued, she was able to regain control of her expression and settle back down some.
By the time he'd moved to continue albeit tangentially Floraelia's features were pleasantly neutral once more. When he voiced his thoughts on Aeorex, the Mithrian's brow furrowed lightly. She could imagine almost no set of circumstances in which Aeorex would willingly sever his right hand, much less offer up Aidan as a nominee to any seat― even if doing so would secure him the cooperation of yet another Councilor as well as offer him some degree of influence over another District. It was worth noting, however. Perhaps he would be better off having that piece of information before submitting his candidate. She would have to think on how to broach the subject with him in a tactful way that wouldn't leave him questioning her motivations. Whatever the case, she couldn't, in good faith, not ensure Aeorex's ability to make an informed decision. Generally he was able to rely on the cooperation of First and Second Districts. She didn't want him to be put in a position where he was forced to question their mostly-unspoken alliances.
That Ishmaél moved along so quickly caused Floraelia to start, though the reaction was not exaggerated.
"Dorya? I rather like her, actually. I must confess that I don't know her extremely well, certainly not as well as I know Aidan, but my father does think very highly of her. She's been remarkably useful in the past in matters of state diplomacy. I'm not perfectly sure how she'd fare under the weight of a District, but I'm sure I could get more information about her for you. Fortunately, I know she's currently in the City: I saw her earlier before the meeting had officially started."
At no point did Floraelia seem to indicate that she either took issue with gathering information for the other Councilor or that she had any intention of scooping up the possible candidate for herself: the Mithrian was true to her word. She was willing to not only help Ishmaél but also refrain from using his information to better position herself.
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Post by Ishmaél Mirr on Aug 30, 2015 13:47:42 GMT -5
Ishmaél smiled, nodding along to Floraelia’s assessments and offer of aide. The conversation was going more or less as the Vagrant had hoped, and therefore he decided it was time to land his last point before he began the process of taking his leave. At Floraelia’s indicated willingness to gather more information, Ishmaél looked grateful.
”My assessment is much like yours: I have heard the woman’s abilities highly spoken of, and your father has indicated, through offhand comments and the like, that Dorya has ambitions beyond the scope of her current position. Perhaps, with no other ready-made candidates leaping from the woodwork’s cracks to present themselves, she is one worth investigating, if not outright considering.”
Dorya, the Vagrant knew, was at least a potentially-electable choice, though not one he would consider offering himself, which led directly to his next words. Shaking his head, the tall man chuckled to himself, as if engaging in an act of internal self-chastisement.
”Truly, it occurs to me now that I, perhaps, am under the least weight to offer a viable candidate: the Magistrate has indicated leniency due to my current overburdened duties, at least in the short term. You, or even Aeorex, may find yourselves with a more dire need of a viable candidate than I, considering the circumstances. Still, if you think to, take stock of our comrade Dorya, and see where your judgement lands: perhaps she will be a good choice for one of us to make.”
Carefully, Ishmaél rose from his seat and bowed the top half of his body toward Floraelia, indicating with a smooth gesture of his hand that Floraelia need not rise as he did.
”I appreciate your assistance, Floraelia. If you are amenable, I would like to revisit this topic in the coming days. Perhaps, by then, we will both have a much more substantial footing regarding our potential choices.”
With a smile, Ishmaél would wait for Floraelia to respond, bow slightly again in respect, and show himself out, leaving the Mithrian to attend to her own matters of state. The Vagrant would smile unto himself as he stepped into the lift, programming the contraption to carry him to the Atrium, from which he would depart for his office in Eighth District. With any hope, the seeds would be planted with Floraelia, and could be watered and nurtured at a later time, when Ishmaél met privately with Aeorex. Until then, the Vagrant would attend to his business as he usually did, and watch the tides of the Council carefully to ensure they did not change too rapidly.
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Post by Floraelia Devinian on Jul 20, 2016 22:49:37 GMT -5
The Mithrian's eyes slightly widened at Ishmaél's assertion that he was under the least pressure from the Magistrate to procure a viable candidate. Floraelia, admittedly was somewhat taken aback, realizing very quickly that the man she considered very dear had not only suffered because of her lack of understanding and sympathy for his current situation but he had very casually just opened a door to correcting her possibly precarious position with her father in her lack of working nominees.
"I. . . Oh!
Color flooded her cheeks in that moment of processing and she rose to sweep a curtsy in response to his bow, stopping short at his gesture― which of course caused the flush to deepen attractively.
"Of course, Ishmaél. Send word and I will make the time for you― any time that best suits your needs."
At that, her smile bloomed once more, though she certainly looked a touch out of sorts. She understood perfectly well the caliber of gift Ishmaél had just handed her and while she questioned the legitimacy of her right to claim it, she wouldn't insult her favorite "uncle" by refusing him. She did stand when he left despite his desire for the contrary, and returned the short bow.
"I look forward to it, my dear Ishmaél. Until then. . ."
She saw him out and slowly closed the door behind him, consciously not engaging the locking mechanism.
All right then. She needed to write a message for Raife before she did anything else. Mithria only knew where Dorya was headed after her meeting with Alpha: she could already be across the continent on mission. If she had any hope of feeling her out for possible candidacy she needed to act quickly. Gathering yards of silk in one hand Floraelia stepped deeper into her office, sliding into the chair situated directly across from her private terminal.
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Post by Floraelia Devinian on Jul 20, 2017 20:38:10 GMT -5
When Floraelia Devinian finally received word that Dorya was on her way to meet with her the ashen haired Mithrian let a sigh escape. Already she felt entirely trapped by the Tower and she'd not even stayed an entire night here. There was much to be done even before Aeorex would be stopping by, whenever that was going to be. A report detailing her visit to Emperor Corvaelan's stronghold needed to be drafted for the Tower records and it would probably be best if she could compile the broad strokes of what Marru'Khyr could offer the Trade City and Ouroboros specifically for Aeorex. Perhaps that was something she should try to have at the ready before his visit: it was she who brought up that he should stop by. It would be better if the trek did not prove to be a wasteful parceling of his time― especially because he had an early morning engagement with Søren. It wasn't a pretext she'd used to invite him to her office afterhours, but she couldn't help but feel more like a schemer than a diligent Councilor.
The Mithrian stood, pushing the thought away as firmly as she smoothed the bronze silk over her form. There were things that needed to be done and dwelling on what was or what wasn't was entirely uncharacteristic of her. Still, she found herself mildly wistful that Aeorex hadn't yet made his intentions―or lack thereof― clear. As underhanded as she felt looking for any reason to spend time with him it was still functional: she would be seeing him, and in this dress. A few steps took her to the counter where all the accoutrements to procure a pot of steeping tea were kept. Soon enough the interior would smell like boiled ginger and a hint of lemon and mint.
Just, why wouldn’t Aeorex sweep her into a kiss the way Viers audaciously had? Was it that he looked to avoid offending what he thought of as her modest sensibilities? Perhaps the shadow her father cast was greater than she realized. Or could it be that he wanted her to be more forward? It could just be a meaningless flirtation, though that rooftop kiss hadn't seemed like only a flirtation.
Mithria help me. . .
Floraelia sighed for the second time, trying to force herself into thinking about how she wanted this meeting with Dorya to go. With any luck her discussion with the Operative could go on long enough that by the time she was left alone with her thoughts again Aeorex might arrive before she could further agonize about their relationship.
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Post by Tahliya Carystian on Jul 21, 2017 20:13:55 GMT -5
Tahliya Carystian paused briefly before the door of the Second District Councilor's office, her fist already raised to knock, and briefly composed herself before doing so. It was not that Floraelia in any way intimidated the Operative - the Councilor was notoriously benign at a baseline, and the Operative sincerely doubted that she had been summoned to Floraelia's offices for any sort of infraction. However, Floraelia was expecting Dorya, and would be meeting Tahliya instead: that meant that the Operative was under pressure to perform adequate to her new persona. And, incidentally, that persona had not quite 'gelled' itself just yet.
The Operative thought briefly as to what would be greeting the Councilor: a shorter, though well-built female figure, clad in greys and teals, with shoulder-length black curls and scrolling, tasteful tattoos over her body. She was wearing a skirt, and regardless of its high slit and the combat boots visible underneath, that alone was a sizeable departure from Dorya's norm. Tahliya sincerely hoped that the effect would come across as she intended, and not as though she was trying to impress in a way that was false. The Operative was schooled at manipulating her appearance and persona for different situations, but she had never been trying to show a persona that was truly herself before.
Tahliya took a deep breath, set a small smirk on her lips, and wrapped on the office door with two of her knuckles. The Operative would wait then, patiently, for a response, before entering. Once she heard from the Councilor inside, Tahliya would open the door, step through, and carefully close it behind her, before drawing her gaze directly to Floraelia and standing confidently, her hands at her sides, just in front of the door.
"Good evening, Councilor. You wanted to see me?"
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Post by Floraelia Devinian on Jul 21, 2017 23:11:52 GMT -5
Floraelia Devinian hadn't achieved any remarkable success at ordering her thoughts before the knock sounded at her door. No matter, the Mithrian could slip into her role as Councilor as easily as her father donned his mask.
"Do come in!" She called out across the main body of the office and settled herself with completing her tea preparations. "Would you care for a cup of tea?" If her visitor replied in the affirmative Floraelia would turn with two cups and steam rising from both, a light gesture indicating the breadth of her desk and the seat she was welcome to claim.
"Please, sit down! Thank you so very much for responding so quickly, Dorya. I was afraid you were sent on assignment and would be unreachable for a time."
It was a veritable stroke of luck that the Operative hadn't been sent out on assignment already. Dorya was rarely found within the confines of the Tower for any extended period of time. It was then, as Floraelia moved to set her steaming cup down onto a crisp, white coaster ( a second cup for Dorya if she'd said yes ), that she was able to perceive the radical changes the other woman had made to her appearance. It struck the Mithrian that the woman opposite her, assuming she'd taken the offered seat, looked far less like a government agent and much more like any of the upper class citizenry. It was certainly a welcome observation: perhaps Ishmaél's estimation carried more weight than even he realized.
"Ah! You've changed your hair I see. It looks rather lovely, my dear. You look absolutely stunning." The soft roll of her lilting accent was almost a purr as she watched the other woman, measuring her in a way that was less cold and detached and more warm and appreciative. As if whatever she saw confirmed her veiled thoughts.
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Post by Tahliya Carystian on Jul 21, 2017 23:44:41 GMT -5
Tahliya blinked twice at the woman's welcome - she certainly wasn't used to private meetings with Councilors in which she was offered tea. The Operative didn't seem to hesitate to answer, and stepped further into the room as she did so, glancing around to take stock of the office's layout before moving toward the offered seat.
"Tea would be lovely, thank you."
Resting a hand on the back of the chair Floraelia had indicated, Tahliya watched Floraelia carefully as she moved. The woman was somewhat excessively-dressed herself, though not by much when compared to her normal fare. Floraelia always had a way to capture the attention of everyone in the room, as if she glowed with an inner light - the effect had never done much for Tahliya, but that didn't mean she was ignorant to it. She watched with careful interest how the Councilor moved, how her careful clothing choices played together with her manner to create a clear standing of grace, poise, and diplomatic authority. Floraelia was impressive in her own way - and Tahliya knew she would glean more of interest from watching her than Dorya ever had - the latter had dismissed her mostly as a pretty figurehead.
That Floraelia called Tahliya by the wrong name was in no way surprising - after all, she had been planning a meeting with Dorya, not Tahliya, and the Operative made sure to immediate correct the unintended mistake.
"Please, Councilor - both my current assignment, and most importantly my preference, has called for me to assume a new name, therefore I would prefer you not call me 'Dorya' if at all possible."
The Operative would bow her head slightly, almost evoking a courtesy with a sarcastic flourish that was clearly meant to mock herself instead of her host.
"Tahliya Carystian, at your service."
If offered, Tahliya would take the tea and hold it carefully in both hands, seemingly unperturbed by the heat of the cup, and would finally take a seat, carefully crossing her legs just-so and holding the teacup carefully in her lap.
"I appreciate the compliment - a new name deserves a new look, or so I am told. But, I'm sure you called me here for a reason - what can I do for you, Councilor?"
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Post by Floraelia Devinian on Jul 22, 2017 15:10:13 GMT -5
Because the other woman answered positively Floraelia Devinian definitely procured a second mug of honey-sweetened ginger lemon mint tea. The Mithrian only appeared mildly startled when Tahliya Carystian corrected her and supplied her new identity.
"Ah! Well then, I think that's wonderful, Tahliya. Forgive me, I hadn't received notice." Floraelia took the opportunity to look over the now former Operative again, re-evaluating how her shifting assignment might be playing into the reason she'd called her here. The Tower was working behind this one. Perhaps that was enough of an answer to the question of whether or not Tahliya was suited for the office of Councilor. What was more important to Floraelia, however, was whether or not Tahliya wanted the responsibility of running a District and, if she did, did she understand the weight that came with the title.
"Of course, Tahliya. On to business then." The Mithrian smiled, the warmth reaching her eyes.
"How long have you been working in service to the Tower, Tahliya? And to my father?"
Floraelia already knew the answer to the question, but it was a lead in to her next.
"How do you feel about Vascxious Sigma? I know your work has often taken you into other Cities and you are no stranger to travel. Do you consider the Trade City to be your home?"
The Councilor paused as she took a moment to sip the still-steaming tea.
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Post by Tahliya Carystian on Jul 22, 2017 18:47:08 GMT -5
Tahliya didn't make any point to verbally follow up on Floraelia's apology for calling the Operative by the wrong name - it had been expected, and therefore Tahliya only acknowledged the comment with a small nod and an even smaller smile. The change in name, and the ensuing clarification, would be a set of motions Tahliya would have to go through many more times over the next weeks, undoubtedly, so the woman didn't mind getting a head start on practicing them now.
The Operative did accept the tea from Floraelia, though she seemed in no great hurry to drink it, letting the warm cup instead idle in her lap, warming both of her hands while her dark gaze similarly warmed her current conversation partner. Floraelia would be aware of just how carefully she was being watched by Tahliya, but it was quite unlikely she would think anything of it - as Dorya, the Operative had been quite the intense person, and was more prone to staring than she was even speaking in complete sentences. Therefore, that Tahliya shared a similar penchant for intense staring wouldn't seem all too out of the ordinary, despite that the reason for the staring had changed since the two women last interacted with each other.
Tahliya was soaking up information about Floraelia like a sponge, and would continue to do so throughout the interaction. She watched her mannerisms, the way the woman formed words, even the places that Floraelia chose to look while speaking. Assuming the Councilor paid close enough attention, she might even notice the Operative mimicking some of her mannerisms and vocal patterns as the conversation progressed.
In moving on to business, Floraelia took a fairly traditional tact, and Tahliya immediately was aware of what kind of information the Councilor was seeking. The Operative carefully considered how to respond - should she play along and be genial? Or, should she assert herself and challenge the Councilor, while still being mostly polite? Tahliya smirked slightly, and then carefully drew her words past her lips, punctuating the end of each sentence with an infinitesimal sip of her tea.
"I have been in service of the Tower, and your father, quite literally since I was born, Councilor. I'm sure you are aware of that."
Sip. Carefully-drawn smile. Melodic words that mimicked Floraelia's own cadence and tone.
"I doubt I've travelled any more than you have, as the Tower's Chief Diplomat, Councilor, and unlike you, when I travel, I am rarely subject to treatment designed to ingratiate me to other kingdoms, empires, or regions. With Empress Ghanima, for example, I saw more of the inside of servant's quarters than I did the grand Empire my target was said to have ruled."
Another sip. A sad smile.
"Additionally, when I travel, I don't do so as myself. Tahliya, for example, hasn't ever seen other locales, though Dorya certainly has."
Yet another sip, before the mug found its way onto the top of Floraelia's desk. On a coaster, assuming there was one.
"That's a long-winded way to answer your question, with the proper context. Yes - Vascxious Sigma is my home, and I have quite literally known no other. It is my origin and my only realistic future; so, I care a lot about its well-being."
Tahliya smirked and ran her right hand back through her curls, tucking them behind her right ear.
"After all, we are far more advanced, both in civilization and technology, than any other nation could claim to be. But, you know that better than I do, I'm sure. So, why the curiosity in my feelings? Operatives don't often get asked for opinions; only actions."
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Post by Floraelia Devinian on Jul 22, 2017 21:03:37 GMT -5
Floraelia Devinian was pensive as she considered the other woman's answers, the tip of her finger tracing the rim of her teacup with a light touch. Now that she'd had a chance to observe Tahliya for more than the time it took her to walk out of a room the Mithrian was hard-pressed to find a reason why she hadn't noticed this young woman before. Certainly she fit the role of Operative quite well and perhaps her temperament wasn't yet well-suited to be releasing statements to a room full of Trade City journalists, but she seemed to possess the right combination of steadiness and perception that would be of benefit on the Council. Certainly Callixta and Ishmael already possessed those qualities, but Tahliya could prove to be an interesting wildcard: an ace that could upset some of the stonewalling Søren and Callixta could manifest. Even if that was only due to the fact that Søren was insufferable. . . Tahliya was a former Operative and as far as Floraelia saw it, she could very well learn the role of Councilor and perform it splendidly.
"Mm, yes. I'm certain that is the case. But it seems you'll be an Operative no longer. Have you given any thought as to what you'd like to be doing? If Vascxious Sigma is your future do you see yourself continuing to work for the Tower?"
Floraelia watched her intently, gem-colored eyes bright in the soft office lighting. No, she hadn't answered the question and she wasn't going to unless she got what she was looking for.
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Post by Tahliya Carystian on Jul 22, 2017 22:36:56 GMT -5
Tahliya regarded Floraelia evenly as she spoke, surprised that the Councilor was being more direct than she had anticipated. The Operative was beginning to see how Floraelia functioned at as a diplomat, and not just a normal Council Member - both of the women knew what they were talking about, and the subtext was incredibly clear. Yet, they were still dancing around the honest conversation that they could be having, and Tahliya wasn't exactly sure how to proceed.
Her impulse was to just come out with her real feelings and lay them out on the table, but she was unsure just how doing so would look. Did all Council Members have to play diplomatic games? As far as she could tell, Ishmael was the only one who was incredibly direct about everything he was involved in, but he was an anomaly - most were like Floraelia and Alpha himself, who had a penchant for speaking in metaphor and insinuation rather than direct truth.
Tahliya felt pressure to perform as a Council member might, but something stopped her from continuing to dance around the truth - Clearly, Alpha and now Floraelia had put stock in her ability, with both of them now involved in what could only be a drive to provide her with a potential opportunity. They made those choices based on her abilities and temperament as Dorya - certainly they expected her to adapt, but the traits the Operative had always shown in previous assignments were an ability to be direct and efficient, and a high level of reliability. Those traits, even as Tahliya was trying to decide just who it was she wanted to be, were still very important to her, so why would she try to hide them behind some kind of diplomatic veneer? No, she wouldn't - she was learning from Floraelia, certainly, but she didn't want to be like her, or Keretheriel either for that matter. She wanted to be Tahliya. And that meant making her own choices, and not wasting time worrying what others would be expecting her to do.
The Operative regarded Floraelia seriously, and spoke very evenly, but very directly, after a long pause, to answer the diplomat's question.
"I'm one of the best Operatives in the city. I was made for it, and I know exactly how capable I am at it. But I'm not satisfied with being an Operative. I want to do more."
Tahliya flashed a confident smile at the woman opposite her, before taking a slow sip of her tea and resting the mug back in her lap.
"Honestly? I want to be a member of the Council."
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