[Memory] Uncertain Citations

[moralhazard]

Early Evening, 38th Yaris, 2711
Jean De Silver's Apartment, the Stacks

Uzoji grinned, broadly, at Jean. ”Ah! Now that makes sense,” he said, taking another sip of the brandy. Undeniably, the Giorans knew their craft when it came to spirits; there was, Uzoji felt, a reason that Gioran was so popular in Brunnhold, when surely it could not be cheap to import the stuff such a distance. By air it was nearly a scorenight to Gior, and it was a risky business to take the expensive stuff in a semi-rigid or any sort of small craft; one really did need one of the larger zeppelins to be confident that the ride would be smooth enough.

Then again, Uzoji supposed, there was certainly enough demand for it.

Uzoji opened his mouth to object when Jean asked Cadoc to fetch a bottle, shaking his head slightly, but he did Jean the courtesy of holding silent.

“Thank you,” Uzoji said, instead of his planned objections. He set down his glass and cigar, and took the brandy from Cadoc with a pleased smile, turning it slightly from side to side and admiring it. “A fitting name,” Uzoji grinned at Jean, and very carefully set the bottle down on the side table of his chair. He took another sip of the brandy, and set the glass back down in favor of the cigar once more.

“I shall savor it,” Uzoji said, and he meant every word. “I have in my room a bottle of Thul’Amat bourbon, my personal favorite,” he grinned at Jean. “It’s already open, or I’d make a gift of it to you, but I’d be honored if you’d allow me to share a glass or two with you some time. I’d enjoy hearing what you think of it.”

Uzoji doubted Jean would have ever tried the bourbon before; it was simply unavailable outside of Thul’Amat. The bourbon itself was brewed by the Static conversation faculty; the position of Brewer was one held for ten years at a time, and the responsible professor had the authority of overseeing the process, and was even allowed to make minor revisions, though such changes were done with great respect and only following deep (and lengthy) deliberation. Osefe pez Nuru, Uzoji’s favorite instructor, had held it for the last several years, and he had snuck a bottle to Uzoji during his visit over the summer, in addition to the one he’d gotten as a good-bye gift.

It would, Uzoji decoded, be rather fitting to share a glass with Jean. He had let Niccolette try it, of course, rather eagerly. She had not liked it. He supposed no one was perfect.

“How do you find Brunnhold?” Uzoji asked. He grinned, and took another drag on the cigar, exhaling the smoke into the air. “I would never have guessed there was a prize-fighting ring in the city.” There was no sting in his voice now, no lingering hurt or resentment, only genuine curiosity.

[Genevieve De Silver]

Early Evening, 38th Yaris, 2711

Any other feelings however where overwhelmed at her happiness that he had accepted the gift.

"Excellent it is a spirit for savouring, though I perhaps tend to over savour."

She shot a slightly sheepish grin at Cadoc, who more than once had chided her for her drinking. A slight smile pulled at the dignified wicks mouth and a light of mirth danced in his eyes. Genevieve returned her attention to Uzoji, still smiling.

"But then we must all have our vices, is that not so Uzoji? Thul’Amat bourbon you say. Hm. I would certainly be interested in trying it."

She nodded, she was always interested in new and different things, particularly if they came in a bottle. 'Hm, maybe Cadoc is right.' She thought to herself, well when certain other vices are denied you then what can one do? At his next question Genevieve looked thoughtful, after a pause she said.

"Do you know, I'm not actually sure? The weather here is often awful, distraction can be very hard to find and finding a decent restaurant can be rather difficult."

Her laugh was easy and off hand.

"However, as much as I dislike my sister she is the only family I have left. As long as she is bound to the University then I am stuck here. However I leave the city as much as I can, I visit Gior or the capital or the family's estate in the country."

Genevieve did enjoy her position at the University, it was the limits imposed upon her by society she despised.

She took a sip of brandy and a drag on her cigar content and comfortable, happy to entertain her guest.

"Though the family home is very quiet and cold without company.""

She tapped her silver signet ring, it had been her father's, on her glass and smiled.

"You and Niccolette really must visit next time I'm there.""

Next break or perhaps after Niccolette had finished her studies?
The question of prize fights in Burnnhold gave her pause, she had yet to return to Wrath's Palace after she had taken Niccolette there, her winnings from that night in fact had paid for the silk dressing gown she was now wearing.

"There is one place, well at least one. Wrath's Palace. However do try and keep it under your hat, there's a good fellow.""

It really was supposed to be a secret after all she thought to herself.

"Though I have travel further a field for a good fight. As I say, we all have our vices.""

That same knowing grin played across her pale face again.

[moralhazard]

Early Evening, 38th Yaris, 2711
Jean De Silver's Apartment, the Stacks

“Excellent,” Uzoji said, boyish enthusiasm lighting his eyes at Jean’s acceptance of his offer. He would find a time, he thought, between classes and his flying certificate and Niccolette and all the rest. He would have more, if he left off his arguments with Anoxe.

Uzoji laughed at Jean’s response to his question, as easily as the other man had. He nodded at Jean’s mention of family, and something solemn and understanding entered his face. He knew nothing of Jean's sister, but he knew a good deal of family obligations, and the weights that one was sometimes made to bear.

Then why stay, he wanted to ask. Surely your sister can manage without you. Better, Uzoji wanted to offer, to live your own life, and she hers. But he did not; he would not. A man had to make his own choices, according to his honor. So did a woman, and it was Niccolette and her parents that he thought of then, the burden of her obligations, the heavy sheen of moisture in her eyes when she had told him. Even to ask, Uzoji thought, was to imply a judgment.

He had always thought he knew what honor was. He had learned that too, from his father’s memories and from Anoze’s guidance. He had thought it simple, if not always easy, to find his own ohante: to honor and trust the mona, to honor and trust his family, to honor and trust himself. And so he had given his word, not only to his brother, but to his betrothed, and there was no question but that it was honorable to keep it.

To honor and trust his family or to honor and trust himself. He had not known, as a boy, that they would be at odds. Was it a man’s act to choose one over the other? Which one? And what of Niccolette, and the honor that stretched between them, as of yet unbroken? What was the more shameful act?

But these deliberations were no more than academic; Uzoji knew he would break the betrothal, and he had known it for a long time. It weighed on him, at times, but not nearly so much as the thought of doing anything else. He had let himself believe in a middle way, that he could keep his honor with his family and himself, but perhaps he had always known that that was only a boy’s dream. And in the pursuit of it, what damage had he already done?

“That would be delightful,” Uzoji grinned at Jean, lifting the glass for a small sip of brandy. “Is it in Gior, or here in Anaxas? You must forgive me, I cannot quite tell your antecedents. We’ll both graduate in Vortas, so perhaps after.”

Uzoji grinned a little broader at the mention of Wrath’s Palace. “I won’t breathe a word,” he promised. “Wrath’s Palace. Excellent,” Uzoji sat back, taking another long drag from the cigar, savoring the taste. “I’ve heard good things about Old Rose Harbor,” he said, cheerfully. “I haven’t had the chance to visit yet, but I’m sure we’ll make our way there. If you’re ever in Thul Ka – well. I’d be glad to make some recommendations.”

[Genevieve De Silver]

Early Evening, 38th Yaris, 2711

Having guests at the De Silver manor was an excellent idea, the place was empty much of the time, except for the few staff that remained. Yes, hosting would be a grand affair.

"It is in Anaxas, in the country near near Vienda. It was my father's ancestral home, his people where all Anaxian. My mother's side were Gioran. My sister and I both favour our mother, in our looks."

This was the most she had talked about her family in a very long time, it felt good to remember them. She let out a sigh and a slightly sad smile crossed her face.

"It is strange, in these last few years I have hardly thought of parents, let alone speak of them. You must think me quiet the monster for saying so, and I suppose I could not blame you."

She took a contemplative sip of brandy.

"They died you see, it was very tragic."

Genevieve trailed of waving her hand that held the cigar so it left a lazy smoke trail.

"I am sorry my friend, you no doubt do not wish to hear of my troubles."

At the mention of Thul Ka a fresh light came into her eyes and the sadness their faded, replaced by something like awe.

Thul Ka, I have never been to Mugroba. I would very much like to, you say you have prize fights there? Though I imagine they are different. In fact there was a Mugrobi fighter at Wrath's Palace the night Niccolette and I attended, he was very skilled."

She realised she had almost been babbling and smiled a little sheepishly.

"My apologies, I am something of an enthusiast."

[moralhazard]

Early Evening, 38th Yaris, 2711
Jean De Silver's Apartment, the Stacks

There was something about the traditions around death in Anaxas that always seemed to leave him wrong-footed, Uzoji thought. He had been in Brunnhold just over a year, and in that short time a Professor had passed away, a classmate had lost his mother, and more such. At first the weeping had alarmed him; for the professor, especially, Uzoji had not understood it. He had been a good man and an excellent teacher, beloved by his students. During the memorial, it seemed to Uzoji that those attending had been more focused on their own sadness than the man himself, and he had been sorry for it.

“In Mugroba,” Uzoji had learned to temper any comments he thought to make on death with such a prefix to be polite – to avoid misunderstanding – and he did so now; he doubted Jean wished for a lecture on letting go of the dead, and Uzoji didn’t think himself qualified to give such anyway, “we honor the dead by speaking of their accomplishments.”

He thought of his father’s funeral, of the stories they had told of him – stories Uzoji had never heard before. He remembered the day, of course, and the memorial most especially. There had been sadness; he had seen it on his mother’s face, but she had stood before the assembled crowd, dry-eyed, and she had honored Okorie’s life with her words; she had spoken of all he had achieved, and all he had left behind.

“So I would say that the legacy of your parents lives on in the strength of their son’s character,” Uzoji grinned, “and his excellent taste.” He lifted the brandy lightly to Jean once more; not quite a full toast, somewhere shy of it, but waiting for the other man to join him before taking a small sip.

“Oh, yes,” Uzoji grinned a little wider. “I believe that boxing is more favored here in Anaxas, or so I’ve heard? We have a long history of weapons training in Mugroba – staves and knives both being essential to protect oneself against the desert. Those are the more favored traditions for pit fights, although there are still fistfights as well – there’s no shortage of places to go, in Thul Ka.”

Uzoji settled back in his chair, looking thoughtful. “There are some pits with animals,” he swirled the brandy in his glass, slowly – set it down, and picked up the cigar, settling it between his teeth and taking another long drag. His face was a little more serious now, and he studied Jean, curious and careful. “The maja’wa – have you heard of it? I’m not sure whether it has a name in Estuan. A beast the length of two men, with thick hide and a mouthful of sharp teeth; it hides in the river weeds, waiting, and strikes fast as a snake at its prey. The uliam, which means quiet wolf – perhaps to the height of a man’s chest at the head, well-muscled through the shoulders. They hunt in pairs, like man and wife together, in the desert plains.”

“I can recommend places where men fight such creatures – if you like.” The faintest flicker of distaste rippled through Uzoji’s eyes, and he set the cigar down again, carefully, waiting.

[Genevieve De Silver]

Early Evening, 38th Yaris, 2711

At the Uzoji's word's Genevieve looked thoughtful, what was her parents legacy? A vintners now ran by the son of the man who had been her father's business partner who didn't much care? Though her mother was missed and there were those who still remembered her poetry and passionate public speaking.

'Their son's strength of character' she thought to herself, she felt awful for lying to this man and to Niccolette. However what else could she do? If people knew she would no longer be able to live in the manner she was unaccustomed to. She would be seen as a disgrace, a freak and a laughing stock. Though it was a lonely existence at times.
With an effort she pushed the thoughts back down and looked them away.

She chuckled then and gave her best Jean smile and said off hand.

"I'm not sure on strength of character, regarding good taste well there I am afraid I am guilty as charged."

A mischievous grin came to her face then.

"Tell me, what are people saying about me these days?"

The grin was replaced by a look of interest as he spoke of fighting in his homeland. Genevieve had seen armed fights in the past, though very rarely and never in Burnnhold. She preferred prize fights as a rule, as he spoke of people verse dangerous animals she could not hid a look of disgust.

"Surely not? To use animals in such a way, and how is the fighter meant to beat such a creature? I am afraid I do not see the appeal."

She looked thoughtful.

"Though I wonder if that makes me a hypocrite? Although no, two fighters, choose to fight do they not? At least here in Anaxas no one is forced to fight."

At least she hoped that was true.

"No I do not think I would like to witness such a spectacle."

[moralhazard]

Early Evening, 38th Yaris, 2711
Jean De Silver's Apartment, the Stacks

Uzoji sat back slightly in the armchair at Jean’s question, taking a long drag from the cigar. “They say you’re a rake,” Uzoji lifted his eyebrows a moment, grinned sheepishly, and continued. “A gambler,” he ashed the cigar into Jean’s ashtray. “And that you have some rather odd ideas about social reform.”

“Other than that, not much.” Uzoji said, then shrugged. “It wasn’t too hard to find where you live, but I’d say that was more looks than notoriety,” the Mugrobi grinned. There were plenty of Mugrobi in Brunnhold; there were plenty in Vienda as well, in Old Rose Harbor - in Florne, in Mestigia, in wherever trade might demand it of them. But Uzoji felt the difference keenly between Brunnhold and Thul Ka, between this world and the one he had left behind. He did not mind, per se, but he noticed when butlers introduced him as a Mugrobi gentleman. And, too, he noticed the relief that sometimes swept over him, when he went into Blessings of Hulali’s, when he could order a kofi without worrying about the odd preference of Brunnholders to pollute the stuff with milk, when the lilting strains of home filled the air.

Uzoji grinned, broadly, at the look of disgust on Jean’s face, and he nodded at the other man’s words, settling back into a relaxed posture once more. “I’m glad to hear it,” Uzoji said, cheerful and casual once more. “I find it a disgusting practice. Wild creatures should be left their wildness. They cannot choose like man can, and no one, man or beast, should be forced to go against their nature.”

“And no,” Uzoji said. “These days, there are no slaves in Mugroba either - not even what they called gating here in Brunnhold,” the Mugrobi raised an eyebrow. “Ah, but you are Gioran - half, anyway. A guest should not judge his host,” Uzoji acknowledged, “and yet... may I ask what you think of the treatment of passives, here?” Uzoji grinned a little wider, not at the topic so much as the range of the conversation. Not a light conversation, no; not the sort of things one often brought up to a stranger.

It was, Uzoji thought, proving an oddly delightful evening.

He himself found the practice of gating disgusting; the thought of men, good men and women, forced to spend their days in menial labor with little regard for their true capabilities. He thought of Aremu, his friend from boyhood, discovered as an imbala at ten - probably even now bent over his books back at Thul’Amat. He could not cast, no, but the man knew more about engines than Uzoji ever would; he was very near a genius when it came to mechanical things, in Uzoji’s estimation, with a knack for them that defied belief. And here in Anaxas, had Hulali guided his waters so, he would be - a gardener? Uzoji could scarcely fathom such a waste.

What, Uzoji worried, would Niccolette made of it? His hand tightened a little on his glass, and he took another sip of brandy; he only hoped they would have the chance to find out.

[Genevieve De Silver]

Evening, 38th Yaris, 2711

GGenevieve laughed and slapped the arm of her chair with grinning

"You hear that Cadoc? A rake a gambler and know for odd ideas on social reform! Excellent, well I would consider that to be deeply flattering."

Cadoc smiled and let out a soft chuckle of his own. She smiled towards him and then glanced at the elegant wall clock.

"Cadoc you may take the rest of the night off, I'm sure I can attend to anything we might need."

Cadoc smiled and bowed slightly.

"Thank you Mr De Silver."

He turned to Uzoji and bowed more formally this time.

"Good night sir."

As Cadoc left the room Genevieve smiled and said.

"A most reliable man Cadoc, I would honestly be lost without him."

She turned her attention back to Uzoji.

"I am glad to hear it, I dislike the idea of people being forced into anything."

At his mention of passives her face fell, there were many who worked in the University and while that was perhaps better than life on the streets she did her best to treat them well.

"Ah Passives, yes. Here we come perhaps to why I am known for my odd ideas. I think their treatment is shameful, here in Burnnhold and the rest of Anaxas for that matter Gior is better, but still.
I try to treat people well, all people. I will judge a person on their word and deed. If a Passives were to make me, a shirt say, should I not pay them what I would pay a human tailor?"

Then she thought of diableries, yes a danger, but still.

"It is a thorny issue with no easy answer."

She sagged slightly in her chair. These ideas, if she had voiced then at the university, as herself to the other staff she would be shouted down and ridiculed. She finished the brandy in her glass and stood, walking over to the drinks cabinet she said.


"But yes, another glass of brandy Uzoji?"

She poured herself another, and then chuckled as a thought struck her.


"For all their talk of my rakish nature and odd ideas I am still invited to the homes of well to do families. With daughters in need of husbands and fathers in need of money and connections."

She shook her head, it was true. For she was rich and unmarried, as Jean that made her a fine prospect. As herself however she was seen as odd quiet and bookish. The hypocrisy of society never had lost its power to shock her.


"Do not get me wrong, I think some of the women would be rather happy with the match."

She laughed lightly.


"My own vanity aside, I will not be seen as a prize and I will not see people used as bargaining tools. I will not."

Anger flared in her eyes briefly and she remembered what she had said to Niccolette last eights.
She reigned control and sipped brandy and smiled at Uzoji.


"Tell me Uzoji, what are your cultures thoughts of the place of women in society?"

[moralhazard]

Early Evening, 38th Yaris, 2711
Jean De Silver's Apartment, the Stacks

“Good night,” Uzoji said, casually, nodding his head to Cadoc in response to the wick’s bow.

“In Mugroba, we do not gate them,” Uzoji said. He watched Jean across the room for a moment. “There are communities of them, living together in the heart of Thul Ka; I studied in the same classroom with passives at Thul’Amat, some of whom put me to shame,” Uzoji grinned.

”They are not the same as we are - there is something missing from them, it seems. But there are good men and women among them, and to...” Uzoji shook his head, slightly, and swirled the brandy in his glass. “It is a waste.” He said, firmly.

“No more for me, thank you,” Uzoji said, smiling. He didn’t want to go to Niccolette already drunk; the sight of her intoxicated him nearly as much as the brandy, although he was not sure he would have called her sweet.

Uzoji watched Jean, curiously, and he said nothing, though he saw the sharp flash of anger on the man’s face.

“The place of women in society,” Uzoji said, thoughtfully. He had pushed Jean, twice now, and Uzoji was conscious of the balance between them - conscious, too, of how honest the other man had been, not shying away from opinions that might have been held as heretical, here.

“My father returned to the cycle when I was a boy,” Uzoji said. There was no particular grief in his voice; none of the sadness that Jean had let show. “My eldest brother, Anoze, was not yet 20, but he took over my father’s business.” He swirled the brandy again, slowly, and did not sip it.

“That, to me, seemed right.” Uzoji said. “I saw how he was guided by my mother, naturally. He would go to her - sit with her - talk over the day. She would listen, and when he asked for it, she would guide him.” Uzoji was quiet a moment more, and shook his head. “She is strong, my mother,” affection warmed his voice, and he grinned. “She knew what was best, and yet she didn’t offer it to Anoze; she waited for him to come and ask it of her. And - he listened. He took her guidance.”

Uzoji shrugged. “This is Mugroba. The man in public - the woman in the home. Both honored, but held apart. And yet - why could my mother not have run the business? For years, she led my brother - and did twice the work, for she always had to lead while appearing to follow. And what if men who prefer the home?”

Uzoji sat back and swirled the brandy again, lifted it to his mouth and took a sip. “It seems to me a waste,” he set the glass down - propped his arms on his legs, leaning forward slightly, gazing somewhere into the distance between them. “A terrible waste, to force someone - anyone -“ Uzoji shrugged, and sat back again, exhaling. “To be without choice - to be less than they might. If a mind is good - if a person is strong - what should the rest matter?”

[Genevieve De Silver]

Early Evening, 38th Yaris, 2711

It felt good to be standing, the conversation had energised her, pulled her out of the contemplative mood she had been in since finishing teaching for the day. She took a sip of her brandy relishing the flavour.

Uzoji's words made a lot of sense to her and she smiled.

"Now that sounds like a much better system to me, free to choose, to find at what you excel. The way Passives are treated in Anaxas I think is mostly governed by fear."

As he spoke of the death of his father Genevieve's respect Uzoji, rose further, this was a good man with a good heart. She was glad he and Niccolette had each other.

Mugroba in some ways was not so different to Anaxas, she was about to make a comment when his next sentence stopped her. Yes, it was a waste, why should someone be stopped from doing that which they love or are gifted at based on there sex, or for that matter some other accident of birth?

She felt a lump in her throat then and had to look away to hide the shine of tears in her eyes. For so long she had lived this shadow life, neither one thing or truly the other. She took a deep drink of brandy coughed and recovered herself.

"Do you know much of Gior? It's a matriarchal society, my mother was a community leader of sorts and a poet. She had a lot of sway, my sister and I grew up there. It was as it took people a long time to warm to my father, as he was an outsider. That I believe was the true reason we moved to Anaxas."


She took a drag on her cigar, in her mind's eye she could still see her mother, how she had changed. Worn down by Anaxian society until she was a shadow of the outspoken strong woman she had been. It got to the point where her and her mother hardly left the house, it had a bad effect on her father as well, she wondered what would have happened had they not died. She let out a sigh and shook her head and ran a hand through her hair.

"“It was a hard adjustment.”

In a way she never truly adjusted, instead she created Jean.

She looked back to Uzoji and smiled, a little sadly.

“You truely are blessed to have Niccolette, and I think she is blessed to have you as well. Hold on to that, with all your might.”

She walked back to her armchair and sat down and crossed her left leg over the right and put her brandy down on the table.

“You must forgive me if I overstepped the mark, after all we Giorans are known for our outspoken nature.”

She chuckled then, her good nature returning.

“You are a good man Uzoji, and I am glad you sought me out this evening, truly I am.”