Thread: Vying For The City (AE x Machiavelli)

Nicholas leaned up as she leaned down, meeting her for the short kiss that held more passion than anything so short should. Purely a stereotype, my dear. Blackmail simply is the most efficient method of mass cooperation, short of open threat. The lovely thing about stereotypes is that is makes people think you're predictable. He smirked, quirking an eyebrow as if to hint at things yet unsaid. He leaned back some as she spoke again. You and I both know that if you beheaded all of the soldiers I have information on, you'd run out of spikes to mount them on. He said with a laugh, standing to join her, not pacing, but rather leaning on the balcony rail, looking over the city they both struggled for mastery of. When she spoke the name, harsh with its consonants, he merely shook his head, turning once more to face her, his expression one of complete calm, perhaps even amusement. His eyes wandered her body as she posed so carefully, so suggestively. As the next stage of her plan emerged, his face once more held no reaction- he too was holding more cards in his hand than he had yet revealed. Oh darling, you really think I would use a bullet? He said, playing offended. Nay, I would not be so crude and base. Something more elegant could, of course, be arranged for him. he said, as if offering accommodations or dinner reservations. It was difficult to say, but he might have been joking. You do seem to find distinct pleasure in teasing. He accused as she concluded. A proper bedroom?! He added with false incredulity. You know, they say variety is the spice of life. He teased back, taking her by the arm. But how could I turn down such an enticing suggestion. Would you prefer neutral ground? There's a lovely, luxurious inn nearby that would certainly provide lavish rooms for our continued banter. He suggested, his eyebrow raised and lips curled upward. I must admit, a new constable is an unplanned variable, but ultimately one that shouldn't interfere with my own plans. He confessed as they wandered toward the rooftop doorway. After all, his loyalty might be to you, but the soldiers? We all know their loyalty lies with the gold payout. They enforce the law, the city reinforces their purses. Now, do you know the easiest way to have the solution to someone's problem? He prompted, allowing her to mill that question over for a moment as they descended the stairs. It's simple - create the problem. Everything in society comes back to gold, one way or another. Now, I realized this a while ago - though then it was all about information and knowing where money was going - and managed to get an agent into the taxes and commerce meetings every year. You know, few of the people at those meetings actually care about any of the places the money goes, and don't particularly pay attention to what is being sent where. He paused as they exited the restaurant and he offered her a hand up into the carriage. The end result is quite simple - the biannual commerce meeting is tomorrow morning, first thing. If the militias and guards don't agree to support me, it might so happen that their funds were sent to the wrong location and have since disappeared. Can you imagine a guard force working from reserve funds? They'd have to cut their numbers in half, at least, and the city would be crippled! Certainly, whoever did win the affection of the military could donate funds themselves, but such a cost would be immense! He smiled slightly, entering the carriage behind her and relaxing against the wall. Now, I do hope you're running out of cards, as I've only got my trump card left. He chuckled, his fingertips wandering along her arm, sliding slowly up toward her shoulder, his eyes clearly imagining her without the fabric. His desire for her was just as clear, as his calm nature just barely covered something predatory. And that hunting posture had nothing to do with his plots and plans.