[so jack isn't allowed to behead rufus, because it would make oswald sad, no matter how much bribery involving birds and/or jack himself it takes, so jack has to be civil and all heroic as he tries to figure out if rufus was a threat or not.]
[Though neither confirming or denying. There's a certain arrogance in the choice of antiquated language that's almost inconceivable to Arthur Barma's existence.]
[Even knowing who he had just spoken with today... he wasn't expecting that face. It is Oz's face, staring down the video feed with some years of age tacked onto it. While Oswald would be a future 'ally,' a moment he had decided to see if he could turn to his favor by revealing himself... this man was dangerous.
Nothing but dangerous.
The video on Jack's end doesn't open. Another text message follows through.]
Arthur Barma was many things, but not much of any of them. Formality I wouldst have assumed by virtue of station.
video rufus are you really sure you should be doing this
[jack doesn't look unfazed when rufus practically admits who he is; in fact, he just gets more cheery.]
As expected from Dodo's contractor, milord, that you would not show your face. I suppose you have red hair too, I guess, and goodness, Arthur was a pleasant man, don't say that.
[There was little point in pretending from the start. If he knew enough to get in contact, he had already known it was not Arthur Oswald had met. Rufus was never fond of wasting his own time.
The sudden cheerfulness does grate down his nerves.]
I imagine thou hast a point to this correspondence.
[if there's one thing nobody knows about jack vessalius (save for oswald) is that jack is actually a five-year-old. a very obnoxious five-year-old. oswald should be proud jack hasn't used oz to paint the town red with rufus.]
I just wanted to confirm it before you snatch Oswald off and you two start fawning over birds. [his eyes widen as if catching himself,] Erm, milord. [and then he ducks his head. he talks a lot.] I think it's a sort of thing when you have a contract with one of the birds. Oh, uh, I'm Jack. Vessalius. I knew Arthur and Miranda...?
[The reply this time, takes a while. Not even touching the tablet's keyboard, he simply watches the man's movements and expressions as the second draw out. It's an interesting choice of masks to him... and so very foreign from Oz' natural cheekiness.]
Tis a rare pleasure for mineself to meet one of such deep acquaintance, I am sure.
[Well, well. Barma smiles, a bit unkindly, at the screen as the video feed cuts out to swap to text. A nice touch.
A convincing, simple show of emotion from a man forced to do the right thing in the worst of times. How fitting.
His next text is simple:]
Jack, then. May you find all of your just rewards.
[A simple platitude for a goodbye, and Barma idly shifted between programs on the strange device, thinking over his own words and picking them apart for what was given and what was kept. Honestly, any other time, any other situation, it might have actually been fun.
This man who made a fool of the country and worse, Barma himself, ... he'd probably do best to avoid for now.]
a huge one in fact, the likes of which would be enough to make barma smirk at him over his fan, flutter it and say something irritating, only it's one thing, isn't it, when barma's only being coy about some information he'll inevitably provide them and another when the last oz heard of him rings in his ears now, sharon almost in tears for her beloved grandmother. i never thought he'd do something like this, and neither had anyone.
but personal timelines are as fluid as water here, and barma may be from before that, before even considering it, or even from the uncertain future leo warned oz about more than once. it means treading even more carefully than ordinarily, and it means operating alone because that betrayal is certainly not something he'd wanted to worry anyone else about, least of all with what little can be done about it from here.
so, his voice is bright, bubbles on a laugh. )
So this is where you've been! How am I supposed to greet you properly if you take so long to show your face, Duke Barma?
[How... inconvenient. He HAD planned on a meeting in person. It is far easier to read people there. Not to mention, Oz's usual contingent of allies added to his own expressions, tell tales that the cheery smile and waspish words didn't reveal were often painted in bright colors in how Gilbert's brow pinched, or in Alice's outbursts. In Sharon's declarations and the Hatter's subtle shifts in posture.
This was very, very inconvenient.]
Properly? Very well. I shalt wait for thee to attempt such.
One gives proper lenience to beginners, after all.
( he would, wouldn't he; of course rufus barma would manage to think of the single place oz loathes most out of a building, an astronomical body, he already despises. )
[When Oz arrives, Barma has not taken the middle of the room to himself, as he was often prone to. Instead, he sits, leaning against the first of many panes of clear material, standing between them and the crushing pressure of the void.
Barma, himself, has settles a pillow upon the cold metal bench, and further draped one of his silk coats upon it before taking a seat. In his hand is a styrofoam cup of tea, for lack of proper materials. A second sits nearby, though who he had persuaded or commanded to fetch it for him is no where to be seen.
He doesn't turn to look at Oz.]
A curious fact, is it not? Abysmal comes from 'Abysm'... meaning a bottomless gulf, the greatest of depths.
( barma may have his silk coats and pillows, but oz looks very thoroughly exile by now, just days shy of the ten month mark in this world. he's got the one frock coat in which he'd arrived in september back, borrowed to caesar at vanadi's fateful party, but that's all; the venetian finery is lost in a cold united earth facility, and anything else didn't survive the trip to the moon or didn't exist in the first place. it's locally-made shirts and trousers for him now, long-sleeved against the weather there and chill here, brightened primarily by a familiar gold chain that jangles musically when he moves just so, evidence of jack's pocket watch still never leaving his person. his hair wants trimming, and his boots — local again, it's only been dress shoes that he's brought in from reveil — make his approach audible enough.
(not things he's thought to notice in recent months until now, not even with alice's arrival; but then barma hasn't seen him splattered with gil's and his own blood, clothes ragged from low-ranking chains, hasn't at all besides the luxury that a scion of vessalius house would be expected to wear.)
the additional steaming cup doesn't go unnoticed, scarcely gives him pause; this may be a farce of a meeting between members of two of the four highest ranking families outside of the reigning one, but at least it's a proper one. not surprising that barma would think of the abyss, looking out at space, even if it stiffens his shoulders and makes his steps feel heavier, because it's true — there's no one in pandora who'd look at this view and think of anything else. )
Does it? I didn't know. ( a lie. ) It's a surprise to hear you volunteering information for free.
( on a chuckle, like they're friends, and he sits himself and picks up the cup. he neither drinks it nor looks outside, sits up straight so he doesn't have to lean as barma does, and lets the steam tickle his face. )
[Even a pittance has its price. Whether Barma directly demands it or not, he takes it in information. It's not the state of Oz' squalor, or uneasy but still neutral posture in front of the starscape.
Rufus' eyes focus on the glimmer of a gold chain at Oz' collar. The rest of his expression is hid by the lip of his own cup, and masked by the act of a sip of tea as effectively as either of his fans.]
There art occasions whereupon I might seem generous.
( he'd considered digging up that frock coat, dressing carefully, but had ultimately rejected the thought. it'd likely be obvious anyway, and he'd be surprised if rufus barma of all people, already a not-so-new arrival, hadn't yet seen his face over the network, stretching back for months. there can be value to such short-lived deceptions, but he hadn't seen the point of this one. besides, it puts him at an informational advantage, and he's sure they both realize it. )
Well! That's true of everyone, I suppose. ( he finally has a sip of the tea himself, though certainly not pointedly. ) Quite some time. I'd welcome you properly, but I'm sure the greeters did that already.
( he can't help himself sometimes, and with duke barma — with the moon, with the ue, with the mutiny, with everything — even his own temper has been harder to mind. )
Though even so, I was supposed to be the one greeting you.
( it's answer enough; he lowers his eyes a moment as he has another sip of tea. he hadn't expected much else, truthfully, perhaps because if nothing else he's not so lucky nor so hopeful.
after a moment he says, ) The United Earth is a formidable enemy.
[When Oz looks back up, Barma is looking out the window, his own expression hidden by the ridiculous volume of hair around him.]
Enough to scour a city from the very ground. Why, I must wonder, whence they took heroes and villains of many worlds, powers of strangeness and might... and yet, tis all within hidden movements and nibbling attacks?
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