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[He certainly wasn't going to fight Richard when it came the tablet. If the younger man truly wanted to bury it in the ground, he didn't mind at all. It meant that there was an easier way to feed information to Richard, or alternatively, keep the man in the dark. For someone who had ambition, a lack of trusted information could be very detrimental to getting that ambition off the ground.

They had to learn, and they had to adapt.]

To be here, apparently we are all tainted with some crime. Perhaps unconsciously, we all made that deal with the devil - as you call it - to come here to live. [It was better than being dead in his opinion, so he would remain.] Of course I shall teach you. If afterwards you still want nothing to do with it, bury it deep in the dirt.

[He then proceeded to explain what he knew of the tablets, how they worked, their different modes, sending private messaging, searching people's inboxes and scrolling through the various messages available. He made no opinion on the content of posts or comments, of course.]

There is no man without a sin. [That fact had been hammered on him and his brothers since very young age -- just as was the rest of the god fearing population. They might be blessed with divine blood, yes, but that did not mean that they were untouched by the mistakes of the man. That's why they had to lead with just and righteous heart, pray for guidance and beg for forgiveness. Something that Richard had always failed to do. Why would he? If the sin he carried with him was too unforgivable even for the God, then why waste his time kneeling down in front of the altar.

But he truly was still god-fearing man, and this world with its strange devices and mirrors scared him so. Not being unable to understand what was in front of him had led him to cower in the darkness, looking to bury the sources of his anxiety and fears. Like a silly child.

He listens to Silco's explanation, trying his best to grasp on the knowledge presented in front of him. It was a lot, and there still was much that he didn't quite understand, but with the basics laid out in front him he did feel like he could navigate through this network of confusion. Maybe.]

This is now the second time you have aided me. [The second time Silco's helped him through the darkness, coaxed him out of the depths of his mind back to the light. And... it didn't sit well with Richard. It made him feel too raw and open, to have someone see the vulnerability of his soul like this. ]

Edited 2024-05-26 20:03 (UTC)

[Once he had explained as much as he could without getting to the absolutely nitty-gritty details of the operation of the device - that he knew of anyway - Silco offered the tablet back to Richard to take. Explanation was one thing, but the only way to truly learn was to do of course. Practice and opportunities to spy on the open thoughts of the Chosen.]

It wouldn't be worthwhile to allow another man with ambition to flounder in the dark and not be able to utilize similar methods of information gather as I do. [He gazed steadily at Richard with his mismatched eyes, not at all phased with the idea of being owed a favour or two.] Information is currency for ambition. I want to see what you are going to do.

[He pointed at the tablet.] Now, let's have you send a message. A little practice will hopefully assist you in understanding the function to use for yourself.

[Richard's not sure whether he agrees with the sentiment. He'd rather clip wings off those who he perceived too similar to himself, who he would consider as potential threat in the future. Make them weak and desperate, so that they can't resist his offerings of mercy and love. Of course, as of now he has no reason to become a thorn on Silco's path. He is just as interested, if not even more, to see what of the man's ambition will led him as his companion seems to be.

He takes the tablet back, the dirt covered gloves clumsily sliding across the fractured screen.]

To who?

[Silco had no interest - currently - of making Richard his enemy, which meant that he was willing to give the man a hand up rather than a smack down. Besides, Richard was entertaining, and he was convinced that he could deal with the younger man should things get a bit out of hand. After all, it wasn't as if Richard was going to flounce over to all the moral heroes of this place and join their ranks, if the younger man's previous words were anything to be believed.

He stepped closer so they were not quite touching but only so that he could continue to see the screen.]

Send one to me. That way we will know it worked. You remember how to search an account by name, yes?

[Richard knits his brows into a concentrated frown as he looks down at the tablet and tries to remember how Silco had done it just a moment ago. He gives a few rough and awkward taps on the screen with his index finger before he figures out how to open the address menu. The way he navigates around the tablet really looks janky and uncoordinated, you know. It's like watching your grandparent figuring out the facebook for the first time. Well, either way, after a little struggle he does manage to find Silco's name and even open the direct message menu.

With his lips pursed tightly together he taps the keyboard on the screen. What is he supposed to even write here? It feels weird and unnatural, especially with the man himself standing next to him.]

a

[and sent. totally nailed it.]

[It was painful to watch, but Silco this was exactly what it felt like for Jinx to teach him new things on technology. She made a show about griping about it of course, loud and showy at how slow he was, but he was assured that once he learned the skill, he would be fine with it. This was what it was to be behind the times, that's all. He still preferred ink and paper, and he would die on that hill.

The message sent... and nothing. Silco was still reaching into his coat to pull out his tablet and pulled up the screen. It lit up with new message on the screen, which he tapped on. He turned the screen to show it to Richard.]

And now you know how send messages. If you speak to people on the open network, it's easier to send them a private message.

[He tucked his tablet away again into his coat, tugging it edges of the fabric back into place.]

If you would prefer to communicate a different method with me, I will oblige.

[In a way did this seem like a herculean task to go through, and yet it didn't leave him with a sense of victory. Just a vague headache from the frustration and overly focused attention. He hated how unnatural and alienating using the device felt. And to think that people used these things on daily basis.

But if this was required of him in order to survive? Very well. He'll play along.

Richard sighs as he looks up from the tablet, nodding briefly.]

Yes. I believe that the regular and more secure method would be wiser if you wish to keep contacting me. I would hate the idea of someone reading my words without my consent. I believe you feel the same.

[Practice would make perfect, and while he didn't think he or Richard were going to be Aldrip's finest when it came to the use of the tablets, it was better than burying it in the dirt. At least he now knew he could contact Richard should he wish to, assuming this lesson went to heart and was reinforced with practice.

Everyone needed to be adaptable.]

Very well. I will send written letters to you whenever possible.

[Of course, there was danger in those with interceptions and being unable to track if someone else had read. That limited what they would have to talk about, but it would be convenient to arrange for meeting up for verbal discussions. Those could be guaranteed a higher rate of privacy at least.]

I shall leave you to return to your skills training then? Unless you wish to accompany me to the caves?

[Richard looked the man up and down, questioning in his mind the lack of the weapons on his person. In the city he somewhat could understand person not carrying a blade but out in the wilderness? Now that seems foolish.]

I shall accompany you. [As a reward for helping him out -- and partly because he feared the voices that would chase him, if he were to be left alone.]

[Silco stood for the inspection, raising the only eyebrow he possessed questionably. His coat hid more than his tablet, but it was best to let others underestimate what he was capable of. He didn't fight much, least of all face-to-face unless he absolutely had to, but he could if his life was in danger. Still, a man who knew their way around a sword was handy to have, unless they potentially suffered from delusions.

No matter.]

As you wish. Once you have all your items, we can go. Have you been to the caves before? They have scaly beasts in them if you explore far enough, but I tend to avoid direct confrontation with them.

[It's nothing personal, Silco. Just that your appearance doesn't really strike out to him that all threatening, despite your somewhat impressive height.

Besides, all the talk about business and working in the shadows without mention of past battles makes Richard doubt his skills as a warrior. A lot of men were like that, he's coming to realize. Most of them place foolish amount of trust in their own sense of invincibility, trusting enough that their status -- be it of wealth or name, keeps them safe and untouchable. Such nonsensical illusions, something that Richard himself had robbed off at very young age and resulting him to train his small body day and night. ]

That so? Pity. I would not mind seeing you fending off such beasts. [Said with hints of amusement in his voice. Then, he glances down at the tablet in his hand, feeling a little unsure what to do with the thing, seeing that he doesn't really have pockets for the thing in his outfit. Well, guess he's going to carry it in his hands.] Lead the way.

[Silco hired people to do the violence for him, but there were special subjects that required his personal attention. He wasn't afraid to give it in such cases, but honestly, he was more the stab-you-in-the-back type to protect himself as those he went up against tended to be more physical than he was. He wasn't offended that people might think he couldn't and wouldn't be able to defend himself.]

Would you? I don't think my knife would do much against their scales. [At least he did have a weapon on him, tucked hidden in his coat.] Perhaps you'll show me your skills with that sword of yours. If you've been to war, I imagine it's tasted much blood.

[Once Richard seemed to have everything, Silco turned and began to walk into the forest again, stepping over roots and pushing through the underbrush. He found a game trail to follow and began to walk along that.]

My violence tends to be personal in nature. Close and intimate they would say.

[Richard follows Silco while keeping two steps worth of distance between them, just to see whether the man was trusting enough to keep his back turned at a stranger. Someone he knows is armed and whom he had not too long ago recognized to be another monster.

There was nothing quite like smell of freshly spilled blood on the battlefield. Feeling the way one's sword cut through flesh while also painting the ground in deep, dark red as the bodies piled up after him. The heavy and hard steel wrapped around his body - becoming one with the blade. It all brought strange comfort to Richard unlike any other. Most of his life had been filled in gruesome and ruthless battles and death. And yet, never had he thought any of it to intimate. Ugly, wretched, miserable and even personal, yes. But intimate?]

Death and violence are always ugly business, even when they're necessary. [He says eventually with a thoughtful voice. He couldn't help but think back to his brothers. Richard had seen both of them right before their deaths, kissing away their fears and speaking the false comfort to their ears like a grim reaper himself. He supposes, that in those one could find some intimacy]

[For his part, Silco didn't allow any sign of discomfort affect him as he walked. In their previous associations, Richard had had plenty of opportunities to murder him and hadn't taken them, and he doubted the forest would be any different unless there was a mental crisis to create the younger man lashing out at him or anything. For now, he was content to take the lead and let Richard follow; he was in the better position to know where to go and his confidence never wavered.

He did, however, look back on occasion to check on Richard and be certain he hadn't lost the younger man along the way as they began to cover more ground and move further from town. He wondered if Richard would appreciate the caves as much as he did; so far, he expected only his daughter liked them similarly.]

Where I'm from, there is a legend that if one runs from death then it comes to them violent and ugly. Those that accept death are taken with an arrow of light that takes them beyond the ugliness in an instance. [His death had been violent but not because of him; he technically had been mostly immobile when the bullets had struck him. He accepted it though, wanting to comfort his daughter instead.] Knives are personal. You have to be close to land the blow unless you're good a throwing them, I suppose.

I believe in such legend. All men are weak before their ultimate end, only those who are able to meet their last moments without regrets or grudges holding them back.

[After all, did not every man out there fear for their soul and would rather prevent meeting the final judgement if possible. There had been those who had seemingly faced their death with pride and bravery in their spirit, but still cried and cowered in front of the certainty of it. Not even Richard was safe from such fears. He had escaped and fooled death countless times, relentlessly refusing to die despite the fate sending reaper after him time after time. And once his time eventually came, he was sure that it not be a peaceful end but a miserable battle. Richard would not go down without a fight, no matter what.]

Any blade is good in hands of a skilled user. And yet even more deadly when handled by an inexperienced hands. [Needless to say, sword is Richard preferred weapon. But he did find knives to be rather useful in certain situations.] So, I take that you do not spill the blood by yourself if there is no dire reason for it?

When I died, I only had eyes for my daughter. I had no regrets about my life, though I am pleased to continue on in this place.

[There had been many times in his life where he had been afraid, slipping out of the various situations that could have led to his death. That was the life of someone from the Undercity. The Kindred was never too far behind on their heels. He had died the same way that Vander had - saving his daughter - and that irony was not lost on him in the same way realizing he would give up his dreams to protect his family was the same as Vander.

Either way, he had no reason to go back to that silence again. No, he'd manufacture a reason to keep this rehabilitation centre going if he had to, especially if the AI was not able to lie.]

It always depends on how they employ the blade, and it depends on the situation in which it is employed. War requires a different set of skills compared to a cramped alley. [He paused as he walked to look behind him at Richard.] I spill blood for myself and when a situation is important enough to require my personal hand. Otherwise, I used to have people to spill it on my behalf. Do... Kings not order others to spill blood on their behalf? [He only had history books, and what good were they to actually tell the truth of it?]

[Ah. That piece of information does make Richard look up properly, eyes focusing on the back of the man's head. When he had first arrived to Aldrip, Richard had thought the place to be hell. His thoughts, however, were quickly dismissed as foolish. How could this be the hell if none of them were dead. True enough, he could feel his heart still beat within his ribcage. Part of him wanted to reach out to touch Silco again just to see whether it was the same for him.

He's not going to ask the cause of the man's death. It'd feel like trespassing, just like inquiring the crime written under his name. But one thing he's certain of: that Silco is a good father. Richard knows plenty of men who never thought of their children when looking at the face of the death. He was sure that his own had thought of him, and that idea alone brought him comfort.]

They do have have royal executioners working for them. But there are instances when circumstances are too complicated for that. [Sometimes The King himself needed to be the one to take the action rather than leave it to his servants]

Me and my brothers were born into civil war. For far too long we had been ruled by an inadequate king, until my noble father decided to rebel against the Lancaster dynasty and bring light back to our house. He was captured in battle and killed in the most humiliating and wretched way. We brothers swore revenge and to fulfill his dream. After that each kill in the war was personal. Every faceless soldier who we cut down represented the hatred of vengeance upon the red rose and the undying loyalty of the white rose.

[Silco remembered his death just as he remembered when he had washed up here with wounds that corresponded to the ones that had killed him in Zaun. They had not been mortal wounds, but they had taken weeks to heal on their own, and he bore the scars to remind him that bullets had torn through his body. The pain of healing had felt very real, but he expected this place intended it that way so that he would reform. He did what he had to in order to survive and carve out a niche for himself and his daughter.

He was bless that she was here with him, and that she had no intention of leaving either. He had no doubt that she would someday soon find Richard and take the man's measure in her own way. Jinx had a habit of putting the screws to the new people. He'd let them meet naturally for now.]

Executions sound like a way to stir up a populous as much as it is to punish for misdeeds. [He expected that Noxus performed executions. They seemed the type to lean into the extreme habits.] Sometimes the best course is simply to do it yourself.

[He turned where he stood to face Richard again, considering the life story that was being offered. He would never turn down free information on a person.] And what humiliating way would that be, if I may intrude to ask? [He wondered how it compared to some of the ways people accidentally or purposefully died in Zaun. Yet, that wasn't that important compared to the next part, and he found himself watching Richard with a keen interest.] So you fought a war with your family to overthrow those you didn't deserve to rule over you and yours?

[Maybe he was off base. Maybe not.] I know what that's like.

[Public executions do have several purposes, yes. It is not only a showcase of power and divine judgement, but also works as an entertainment for the peasants while also providing them a target for their anger and dissatisfaction. It was a careful political weapon to be used appropriately, without abusing its power too much, to control the population and the narrative. It is quite interesting that the council has not utilized it yet.]

I would rather not to speak of the day in further detail and have that precious man's memory be overshadowed by the shame. [Because in truth, the memory was permanently imprinted in Richard's mind, oozing out the hurt and anguish like a freshly cut wound that would not just stop bleeding. It had been the day when Richard first time had the taste of the hell. Being abandoned by his mother to enemy camp, his first kill, escaping the death's clutches not once but twice, desperately clinging on life as he dragged his exhausted body through the dark woods. All just to rush at his father's side, only to find out his cut up and defiled body put on a display. A frozen kiss.]

You could say that, yes. It was father's spirit that guided us through the war, leading us to be victorious. After obtaining the crown from the false king I personally made sure that there was no Lancaster left alive to rebel against us. [Half-truth and half-lie. The War of Roses was common knowledge in his own world, its recognized through the other superpowers in Europe. He did not mind retelling the story, especially when he could leave out his own forbidden transgressions and dealings with the enemy king -- whom he had once foolishly looked as replacement for the light that his father had once provided. Who's blood he still keeps alive in his own castle, in form of a young boy calling him 'a father.'] What of your war?

[Anger and dissatisfaction were dangerous when there was a mob to form. People with less were not ones to sit idle, and the rebellion was around every corner of using up a populous. Work them hard and they might be too tired to fight back for a time, but eventually, they would muster the energy for change. Fear helped to keep the masses in line, but so too did promises of something better. A fine line to travel for those who held power.]

I find it interesting you speak of his death as shame, when he likely had little choice in how he met his final moments. Those decisions sound as if they were taken from him, or he leaned into them to mitigate the agony of his circumstances. [He wouldn't know, of course. Death was death and how others decided to view it sounded to him like a them problem. After all, death and its circumstances were usually a result of poor choices or unforeseen consequences.]

I see, so you wiped out the last of the bloodline to stamp out future trouble. [That sounded distinctly like how Noxus dealt with their changes of regime. It gave him an idea of what he was dealing with should Richard consider rising to power here. The man clearly had the capacity to try to stamp out future trouble.] My city is a slave to another, used and held under thumb. It's more complicated than that, of course, but there are clear benefits to one city over the other when it comes to resources. My war was to pull my city and its oppressed people out from under the thumb of the other, and I was willing to do anything for that goal in my lifetime. [Except when he ran head first into a single limitation that cost him... everything.]

Careful. [He says, voice suddenly dropping from the previous casual, conversational tone to more lower and dangerous one.] While I might feel some respect and gratitude towards you I will not hesitate find out just how intimate and personal my blade can be with that tongue of yours if you dare to speak ill of my father.

[Ok, to be fair towards Silco, he hadn't spoken badly of the man. However, the subject was very sore to Richard and he would make a good of the threat if he was given any reason to expect any disrespecting and unfavorable feelings towards his father. And it was that gratitude and lingering positive feelings he held for Silco that made Richard give out the warning. Because even now, the man somehow managed to be one of the few people who he Richard felt comfortable to be around and would not want to lose it for time being.]

Hope is dangerous thing. I merely made sure that any surviving Lancaster supporter would not ever again dream of going against my brother's throne. [Again. All the bloodshed and cruelty just to ensure the safety of Edward's claim on the crown. To secure the future of York kingdom and his father's dream. Nothing for poor Richard himself. At least not until much later when his own dark, sinful desires were dragged out of him by force.]

It sounds like our situations do not differ that much from one another. [Except as far as Richard understood, Silco did not have the divine blessing to back up his war like he and his brother had while going up against Lancasters. So, it sounds more like a peasant uprising than anything else -- but still not something to scoff at or to take lightly. Such uprisings and rebellions could easily cause a ripple effect in the kingdom and cost king his head.

But perhaps it was that lack of God's favor that landed the man here after his death, giving him the mark of the sinner.] I do hope that someone is able to continue your work, then.

[Silco raised his eyebrow at the threat leveled towards him, mentally revisiting his words about the death of Richard's father. He certainly said nothing that would discredit the man, which meant to him that it was such a sore subject that it required setting a boundary that was stronger than necessary. Richard sounded like a Piltie, prattling about bloodlines and the importance of honouring ones father. He admired the loyalty, and while he had absolutely no doubt in his mind that Richard would carry out that threat, he found it amusing.

He closed the distance between himself and Richard on the game trail and leaned in so they were looking eye-to-eye. The corner of his lip twisted to an small smile.] I will hold you to that promise. I admire that kind of loyalty, and I would very much like to hear his great deeds to earn such respect and loyalty from you.

[It might be worthwhile having a King-out-of-water in his back pocket. Also, he had been threatened many times in his life time and most of them had held promise to it, so this honestly felt like things were getting back to normal. Richard had plenty of hot buttons, and he certainly was curious to discover them and how to aim the younger man in the direction of his rivals or enemies. Loyalty was important.]

Hope is what makes people bold. While I don't know your situation, I would have slit their throats and been done with it. They have not use to live but be a threat to you and yours. [Silco had done that to Vander's supporters when he had risen to power. Benzo had been the first, then Vander to follow, and a few key outspoken players and by then, everyone else was out to save their skins and went quiet. Fear was a good motivator as much as hope was.]

No they do not. The only difference I can see is we are the faceless foot soldiers in your war, and you are me in mine. You have the power, the smarts and the determination to force change. So do I. [He rose, reaching out to touch the pommel of Richard's sword with two fingers.] Zaun has been fed the run off for too long. I will see it free even beyond my death. Then we will be ready to stand against the war coming to our borders from beyond. And here, in this place, there is no war but it is what we make of it.

[He had no favour of any gods. He didn't want it either.] At least you and I can admit we are monsters who have purpose. I like that. It's rare here, and there's no shame in it. Embrace it, and if that requires the loss of my tongue someday, so be it.

[He stayed still when Silco approached, closing the small gap between them. There's a subtle curious change in his expression as he looks up at the man through his long lashes. Was this an intimidation attempt? Or try to establish power and control? Well, whatever it was Richard was not going to submit.]

So, you are saying that you are my reflection and I'm yours in different life. ['Not your other half, but you.' He reminds to himself, feeling already the loneliness echoing within him. He waits a quick moment, expecting fully to hear Joan and her taunting insults. But she stays gone, along with the voices shouting the curses at him. The only thing he could hear was the beating of his own heart, trying to break out of its prison. There it is again. The ugly hope he wanted to get rid off.]

My power was never obvious. I had to carve it for myself and take it. Nothing was ever given to me freely. Surely you understand. [It had been paid off by endless suffering and humiliation, pain and loss. If Silco truly meant what he said about them being the same, he would've gone through it all as well. The mark on his face was proof enough.

Richard briefly looked down at the fingers reaching to feel his sword. A small grin formed to his lips as he raised his hand to grab on the collar of Silco's shirt, pulling the man even closer so that he could feel the other's breath against his face.]

Then you know that the pact with a monster always comes with a heavy sacrifice. It's a double edged sword, drowning anyone who tries to wield it.

I'll let you infer whatever you like to my words. We do seem to have certain similarities to the paths of our lives from details we've discussed with each other. [They both seemed to be violent men in their own way, ruthless to get what they wanted but also smart enough to understand that outright force was not the best course of action. The slow long game as it were.

He made a low noise of acknowledgement to Richard's words, tilting his head as he held their mismatched gazes together.] Real power is not for those smartest or fastest or strongest but for those who will do anything to acquire it. Power is understanding your own strengths and employing them to best effect, and it's the slow game that take advantage of weaknesses in situations.

[His blue eye widened when he collar was seized, fingers tightening on the pommel of the sword. It was a rare situation that someone grabbed him in such a way; his previous reputation kept others well out of his range for the most part. There were a few that treated him roughly in an attempt to intimidate or harm him, but this... was different. It didn't yet put him on edge, but he hadn't decided if he hated it.]

I've been drowning all my life. Are you going considering making a pact with me, Richard? [Silco had no illusions of the fact he was a monster.] How does drowning make you feel?

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