[Kirin Jindosh is not a forgiving man. Patient, maybe, depending on the circumstance—he'll wait as long as it takes to see the effects of one of his experiments play out, whether it's days or months or years. But he won't entertain a guest for a second longer than he intends to, and burning bridges is such second nature to him that sometimes it doesn't even work; people come back. He tells himself it's to marvel at his genius, and usually he is correct.
It's certainly not his winning personality. But he is not patient and he burns bridges like a bad habit, and so in the months following his encounter with Lady Emily Kaldwin, while his mind stitches itself back together, he remains bitter and unforgiving. The Empress will never know his loyalty (not to say that she ever had it, but now), and if he were not so—hindered by what she did to him, he would have sent an army of machines after her already.
He's that kind of man. Instead, he wastes away the days trying to force the healing of his mind to completion through any means possible, and after months he is finally more than a shadow of his former self. He still has moments, horrible moments, where he can't think of a single formula and the most advanced idea he's had in ages turns out to be one he himself invented over a decade ago, but the mind is elastic in a way the body is not. Parts of it feel stronger than before, at the expense of others.
He's bitter about this, too, but it's with a grim satisfaction that even with this... handicap, not a single soul in the Isles could hold a candle to him.
Which does not, as it so happens, prevent the leader of the Howlers from waltzing into his house and past his guards and Clockworks like he's brushing aside flies. Jindosh is mystified by the man - Paolo - and both hates and finds a thrill in the feeling. If every visitor to his house is a new challenge for the soldiers then they are puzzles for the resident creator, and Paolo—every puzzle can be solved, Jindosh espouses this like a religion, there is nothing he cannot pick apart piece by piece in the end, but...
(There is so rarely a but, when other people are involved.)
But Paolo possesses some kind of darkness, some black magic that puts him on a level above the average person who wanders into Jindosh's home. If he is a puzzle, then his pieces are all the same shape and all of them are blank. But Jindosh has never refused a challenge, and he isn't about to start now.
So it happens that today, long after the first time the Howler's leader wandered into his home to threaten him about something the Duke wanted and the third time this week he's come back to do Jindosh doesn't know what, Jindosh is not in a hurry to greet him. He knows thanks to his mansion that Paolo is there, loitering in his guest waiting room and probably touching something he shouldn't, but he's busy today and he doesn't have time to immediately rush to his side.
He wants, also, to see what Paolo will do if he tries his patience like this, after adapting to the opposite routine. He's curious. Eventually, when he wanders in with a bottle of wine and a couple glasses, he has the look on his face of a man who knows full well that he just wasted at least half an hour making Paolo wait.]
Ah, my favorite guest, you've been so very patient. How long will my home hold your interest, I wonder? It doesn't seem to challenge you at all, anymore.
You assume it is your home that holds my interest.
[Paolo was well-off since the Empress's departure from Karnaca. The Abbey was no long at his throat, and Duke-in-training was wrapped around his finger within the first week of their meetings. "Abele" had suggested he enter Jindosh's home and unravel any secrets before he got ahead of them, as he could be "the downfall of the Empire." He had said Paolo should be concerned about the newfound hatred for the Empress, as she was technically their ally now.
But Paolo had no interest in the schematics he delivered, nor whatever the noble disliked. What had him returning is what Jindosh liked. The look on his face at their initial meeting was amusing, sure, but it was nothing like the glint in his eye when he hungered for answers. He looked as if he were something to be pulled apart and put back together again, and Paolo... well, he would like to see him try.]
I'd much rather get under your skin than in your home's walls, Mr. Jindosh. Whatever impatience you thought you would rouse from me does not exist when you have endless things I can break.
[Like that clockwork model in a glass case behind him. It wasn't intentional, but... He still smiles with no trace of regret, clasping his hands together in front of him.] I wonder how long you spent monitoring my movements, instead of getting anything done.
[Everything about Paolo infuriates Jindosh in ways he hadn't thought possible. That someone can waltz through his mansion with such an easy confidence (even the Empress had broken a sweat), that the same someone can stand in front of him and talk to him as if they are... not equals, but as if Paolo the Howler has any right to claim Jindosh as an object of study the way Jindosh has marked him. Paolo sits in Jindosh's mind like the dot under a question mark, an inquiry that keeps nudging him to figure out the correct response.
So, he is furious, and yet the intrigue stops him from setting his soldiers on Paolo each time he walks through the door. Eventually something would have to take. How many trial runs will they run through before Paolo's blood stains his floor and doesn't fade?]
Hmm, my skin. Intriguing. [His gaze flicks to the broken model neatly sealed up in its case behind Paolo, but he is less bothered by that than the man's words. Jindosh will make no comment on Paolo being correct about what he was doing, wasting time - of course not.] Did you know only a handful of people have come into my mansion with the quaint expectation of unraveling my secrets before those hidden in the walls? Not a single one lasted long enough to even find me.
[It doesn't really count as finding him if he keeps walking out here voluntarily, so Paolo is already taking shortcuts. How fascinating. Jindosh hums, raising the bottle of wine.] You have already spoiled my afternoon, so allow me to humor you so that you may go, quickly.
By the time I am done, I will have spoiled your evening. I would say your night, but I don't think you would be dissatisfied if I spent it here.
[And to just be extra infuriating, he'll follow those words with a wink. While Paolo was the dot under a question mark, he sought an exclamation. He knew his words sparked fire, and he wouldn't stop his approach until Jindosh burned.
So he'll follow them up with more, reaching to take up the bottle, not a glass, rather than wait for it to be given.] I am not interested in what other people have tried and failed to do. I think we can both agree I've surpassed them on... many, many levels. For instance, [as he pulls the cork from it effortlessly,] none have gotten your brows to knit like that so much times, have they?
[Ignore him absolutely intending to just drink from it, who needs glasses.]
[Paolo sparks something, that's certainly true. Embers in a dying hearth—not an image Jindosh is particularly fond of himself, but it's there. The punchline is that Jindosh has been propositioned before. He's rich, he's famous and eccentric - bedding him would be an accomplishment to the socially uninspired. A conversation piece.
It has never worked before; he is busy, far too busy, and even standing here listening to Paolo make these overtures at him is making his fingers twitch restlessly for all the work he isn't doing.
Still, when Paolo reaches for the bottle and their hands touch for that briefest of seconds, Jindosh is faintly surprised there isn't a shock passed between them. Perhaps he should stop thinking of Paolo as kindling until he knows exactly what the man is trying to set ablaze.]
I could have you removed from the premises without lifting a finger, [he says idly, a helpful reminder that his house can kill people. And he is about to go on before his brow does knit just like that, again, as he reaches for the bottle to stop Paolo being some kind of heathen slumlord.
Like, he is one, but he could pretend to have class in Jindosh's presence.] I can't stand it when my honored guests start being petty. And you don't yet have a single drop of alcohol in you!
[Paolo holds his tongue at his claim, knowing well enough that he could last long enough that Jindosh would have to lift a finger. Probably. He hasn't died once today, purposely careful of that fact whenever he plans on setting foot on the property.]
The Crooked Hand is a tavern, my fiery friend. If you think that this is my first drink of the day, you have not had the experience of handling someone so... high maintenance. [Yeah, he said it, fight him.
But the heathen slumlord will relent, if with something akin to a pout. He relinquishes the bottle, waving his hand once it's free and choosing to pass with a roll of his eyes. He's already walking as if he knows the way, though his visits have supposedly been few.] Perhaps you will be less strung up if we are in the laboratory you should have been working in. I'm curious to see what you've replaced Howler bodies with. Overseers? Your own guardsmen?
[High maintenance... That's fair, it should take extra effort to handle him, otherwise what is he doing wrong? If Paolo's vice of choice is the bottle, that's up to him, but it won't be chugging straight from the bottle if he's not in his own filthy tavern.
Jindosh expresses all of this with a raised eyebrow, looking (down) at Paolo like he isn't being incredibly interesting today, and that's rather disappointing.
Ah, but Jindosh does love talking about his work.]
Thieves, who came into my home thinking they would leave with some kind of prize. The clockwork soldiers handled the first, but the second I kept to deal with myself. He won't covet my collections anymore.
[First of all because he's definitely dead, second of all because Jindosh may have tied a bag over his head and cut off his hands. He doesn't want to carry this wine around anymore but he might need it to bargain with, so he shifts the glasses and bottle all into one hand to leave the other free for pointed gesturing.
They are not going to the laboratory, notably. Jindosh will take special care to lead Paolo somewhere else entirely, a useless room with spare parts and maybe a table and most of a clockwork soldier crucified in its half-built state against the wall. It's like a miniature lab?]
Oh yeah? I bet you tickled him real good. Used one of your machines so you keep your hands clean. [Jindosh might be unimpressed with him, but it goes both ways after that news. He's not even sparing a second glance until they reach his mini... workshop. And even then, it's towards the alcohol.] You know, the more you get these things to do the dirty work, the less you get to know they really suffered for it.
[Oh, hey, he'll even gesture towards the unfinished clockwork to make his point. He'd flinched the first few times around, knowing the feeling of being speared on their arms. Now? He'll pat the head, leaving it as crooked as his tie before he placed the hand on the table.] You always got people coming in, but you never leave an example of what it's like to walk out after what you've done to them. Have 'em stumbling into the streets with what you did and you'll find you got a lot less unwanted guests at your doorstep.
Unless, well, you don't do it because you get lonely or some shit.
[Nobody asked Paolo for his opinion. Jindosh doesn't bother to bristle with offense until Paolo purposely leaves his unfinished clockwork looking crooked and sloppy, at which point he marches over to fix the position of the head and frown at Paolo again.] These things are worth more than twenty of your miserable little lives.
[Stop... breaking his toys?? He's easily distracted by this, fussing with the clockwork for an extended moment before he sighs shortly, like talking to Paolo is a headache that isn't worth it. It's one of those things; Jindosh is still undecided as to which one it is more often. Since he's recently given up on setting expensive clockworks on Paolo, it logically follows that he is walking him around the mansion for his conversation.
A glutton for punishment? Hardly. A glutton for some kind of answer to his burning curiosity—that's better.]
If people stopped coming, it would be awfully hard to find test subjects for the clockworks that don't necessitate my building them myself. [Reminder: even the shittiest clockwork costs a fortune.] I am interested in efficiency, as you know very well from your encounter with them. A soldier that requires electric power to run must kill quickly and move on—they aren't programmed to engage in pretty duels for the sake of pride, or "honor."
[So he doesn't really need to send a message about suffering, or see it at work himself—he's not a torture artist, he's a researcher. Please, Paolo.]
The Jindosh mansion, where men and women of all ages and possessing all kinds of skills come in, and no one comes out. [There's a thin smile on his face, almost as if this is a real tagline for his crazy house and he's really fond of it.] You, my slippery friend, are the one spoiling the image.
[But early morning, when the sun hardly begins to show over the horizon, Paolo carefully shifts himself out of whatever hold they might be in. There were no rude awakenings, no excessive amount of noise intentionally used to wake Jindosh. He left the room quietly, just after admiring the rare moment he wasn't being antagonized.
By every account, it'd seemed he'd left. The glasses they hadn't finished the night before were emptied and carefully put back, and the robe that'd started it all was hanging over a chair. He hadn't left his clothes in the bedroom, and the only sounds were the distance waves hitting shore.
But eventually water ran through the wall between the bed and bath, and some unknown amount of time later, the lever was being pulled to rotate the bedroom back to its rightful space. He couldn't bring himself to be all that sorry if Jindosh was still sleeping.]
[Jindosh's 4 hours of sleep mercifully overlap with all of this. It's very lucky, since if he were awake to do so, he would be obligated to follow Paolo around with criticisms of how he puts things away and whatever else happened to cross his mind. They're both lucky he needs some sleep to function.
He might have even slept a bit longer than four hours by the time Paolo pulls that lever, thanks to the previous night's activities. Of course, the jolt of the whole bed as the floor starts to move and the accompanying sound are enough to rouse him, and the first thing he thinks upon vaguely trying to sit up is that he's sore. Ow.
Sex is terrible. Paolo spinning his bedroom around while he's still in bed is worse. He hasn't even managed to sit up beyond sort of leaning up on one elbow. Ugh.]
Don't, [he manages, and that is it. Kirin Jindosh, Grand Inventor, not a morning person.]
[Paolo's surely been waiting a sarcastic "good morning," but the words die on his lips when he sees how completely unprepared Jindosh was. He'd imagined he'd at least be aware by the time he spun the room, but not even sitting up? His hair unfixed, in his sweatpants? Huh.
He's cute. Cute enough that when Paolo's walking back up to the bedside, he'll keep a softer voice. He's still rubbing his hands to feel how soft the soaps made his skin, so he won't shove them in his face quite yet.] Good morning, Grand Inventor.
[Congratulations Paolo for unlocking the ultra rare morning Jindosh, a sight few have seen without gratuitous negative consequence. Jindosh grunts mildly at Paolo as he comes over, now finally managing to shove himself up to sitting, but after that all he does is look at Paolo.]
You're here. [He's surprised, but that just-woke-up expression keeps it off his face. He shifts like he might reach out to touch Paolo, but hums and tries to finger-comb his own hair into something less bedhead first.
Your bath is better. [Is it simply a statement, or an excuse to why he's still there? Paolo won't elaborate, instead sitting on the edge of the bed. Maybe at some point, when he's more awake, Jindosh might notice the sleeves of his shirt had to be pulled back.
Because it was one of his. Ignore that, though, look at his hands.] Smell better, too-- smell this.
[Is Paolo actually this excited about soap and lotion, or is he using it to ignore the fact he should've left hours ago? Unclear.]
Oh. [That's got him thinking about the bath now, instead of further wondering why Paolo is still here. Sitting up and really embracing how sore he is comes with the added bonus of feeling like really needs to be bathing and not sitting here watching Paolo.
But—again—here he is. He lifts a hand to rub at his face and nudges Paolo's hands with the other.] No. I know what my soap smells like.
It could be new soap. You don't know, spending all that time in your lab. [Excuse you, he's just going to take that that hand now. All the gentleness from the prior evening seemed to be gone, now, as he's standing up to urge him out of bed.]
Sooner you get up, sooner you stop noticing how much your ass hates you. [Would he know? Maybe.] Ran new water for you and everything. You should really smell, though... Don't think my hands haven't been this soft since I was a kid.
[Ugh, no, don't make him get up. Jindosh grumbles something incoherent but with at least one "damn you" worked into it as he stands just to make Paolo stop pulling on him, frowning with obvious discomfort. Yes, he definitely wanted to add talking about his sore ass to today's agenda, thank you...]
That would be the point of the soap. Amazing, that you figured it out so quickly. [Ah, so he's still in there, underneath the sleepy squinting. He's still not going to smell Paolo's hands, but after a beat he takes half a step away from the bed and hooks his arm around Paolo to pull him close to his chest. He only needs a couple seconds to press his lips against Paolo's hair, more for the closeness than actually kissing him there, but hmm.
Yes, he smells nice. Good for him. Jindosh lets go of him just as abruptly, turning to shuffle off the platform so he can spin this room back again. Bathing, that's what's important. Don't talk to him about feelings.]
[Paolo did not return to the Jindosh mansion for five days and four nights. Tomorrow, he had said. Tomorrow had turned into a day, a day into two, two into five sunsets that he never failed to make before. No letter, no Howler journeying out to leave a message. There was no sign he ever intended to make good on his promise, other than the fact he said he would.
It could be argued that it was reasonable, if one knew the distance he traveled, and what it took to get raw whale bone from the whalers without a fight. But Paolo never said that his lateness was unacceptable, and apologized for being a few minutes off to getting cut open. Paolo wouldn't say it now.
He wouldn't say it on the fifth evening that the clockworks identified him, and the floors picked up his weight. The guard's night shift had started, the elevator was off limits, and he still forced himself up the stairs to the corridor leading to the bedroom. Regardless of whether Jindosh was there or in the laboratory, he set a leather bag that reeked of dark magic aside and slipped into bed like he'd last been in it yesterday.]
[The first night Paolo doesn't come back, Jindosh is angry. It's easier than being ashamed of himself—what kind of idiot must he have been, to trust a gangster on his word?—and so he's angry, shut up in his lab. (But he does eat, so Paolo can go fuck himself about that one, if he likes.) The second night he won't let himself get his hopes up and the third night he doubts Paolo will come back.
The fourth night he worries, but not long enough to do anything about it. It's still easier to believe Paolo is standing him up, and he gets less and less work done progressively for how irritated he is, but there isn't anyone around to point it out. Pity.
When the clockworks register that Paolo is there, when the house announces his presence to the lab, Jindosh doesn't hear it because he isn't down there. He's getting nothing done on new projects so he's decided to improve old ones: tonight, his silvergraphs all in a line. He's fiddling with one when he hears someone in the next room over, which makes him pause - but ultimately, he's going to finish fiddling with whatever he's been trying to do with the machine before he comes around to the bedroom.
Hmm. He glances down at the bag, but as much as he would love to go stick his hands in it he supposes he has a point to make, which is that he deserves some kind of explanation.] My house isn't hard to find.
[Paolo takes reprieve in the fact Jindosh doesn't join him immediately, taking the time to relax against the mattress and pillows. He buried his face in it like it'd been ages since he felt something so soft.
It hadn't been ages, but it had been the all the days since he left. When Paolo lifts his head to sit up, there's angry scuffs along one side of his head, while both sets of knuckles were almost freshly bruised when he drags a hand down. His suit wasn't as filthy as it could be, but there's dirt pressed into his pant legs and dried blood on the jacket. Blood he seems to have tried to wipe out to little avail.]
I uh... I'm sorry. [He offers, defeated, grabbing at the bag to pull it open.] I got-- I got more than you'll need for one, and... Byrne pulled one over me while I was out. He was waiting for my trip to be more than a day, and... I had to take care of some things. [He was tired.]
[Hmm. He's injured, but that doesn't get the kind of rush of sympathy out of Jindosh that a normal person would have—to his credit, he knows Paolo can handle himself much better than most people know, so... he's fine, isn't he? So he's a little bruised. Jindosh will get to that.
Getting him extra bones for charms, that's nice of him—and he's distracted by looking down at the bag again, instead frowning at Paolo. He'll claim it's his excitement about bone charms that's making him steadily less angry with Paolo, and not relief over the fact that he's alright and he came back. How pathetic. So.]
Of course you did. [Hooligan. But he's already coming over to sit on the bed and watch Paolo open the bag. Hey. He's not even commenting on how Paolo is definitely too filthy to be in his bed right now, as he glances up from the bag and immediately reaches out to touch his cheek, before he can stop himself.] You are a mess.
I must look pretty bad if you aren't yelling at me. [Paolo musters a smile, though it was faint and short-lived. He must have some idea of how filthy he is without being told, because he's shrugging off his jacket as he leans into Jindosh's hand, ignoring the aches of his body in protest.
Reasonably, he should just lie back down and rest. But he owes Jindosh what he promised, no matter how many days later, so he's rolling up his sleeves and delicately withdrawing a charm from the depths of raw whalebone and wire. A Black bone charm only by name, metal melded around it in a circle to hold it together, roughly fitting into a palm.]
They came looking for these. Killed two of my guys when they found out they were taking advantage of my hospitality. [There's no smile to offer there, but he is reaching to take Jindosh's other hand to place the charm into it.] Killed three of his and sent one back with his hands nailed to his buddies' heads. Other one I kept. We're gonna use bits of him. [This is him apologizing. He killed people, Kirin, accept these.]
Terrible, [Jindosh agrees idly, fascinated by the bone charm the moment it appears. He thought he could from the bag, but now that it's out he's sure, he can... hear it. Like it's singing. The way Paolo's jacket sings when he abandons it in a quiet room, but he's not supposed to touch.
And this one Paolo puts right into his hand. He blinks down at it as Paolo explains all that happened, all the murder that occurred to get these things to his hands, and alright - he appreciates the effort. Still looking at the charm, he moves his hand up to run his fingers through Paolo's hair, despite how gross he is. Come here, come here...]
All that for this. [It's singing and he can't stop looking at it, even if he closes his fist around it he can still hear the singing, look at this thing—] I wondered if you were trying to make a complete fool of me. No one writes about your exploits in the papers anymore, now that the Duke finds you so useful.
[So, there, his feelings were hurt but he's fine now. This is fine. He tugs Paolo closer, a silent offer to lean against him before he passes out.] What manner of bewitching does this one do?
I couldn't make a fool of you if I tried, Kirin. [He's too stupid for that. Paolo chuckles despite himself, giving in and leaning his head on Jindosh's shoulder. He does hesitate, but he ultimately brings an arm around to rest at his side. He's sorry, babe.]
It makes bullets whiz right past you. [He reaches back into the bag, pulling a thin, chapped slab of whalebone. Unsuitable for a rune, but room enough to carve. ] Make 'em out of these. If you wanted to shoot at me with it on, you probably wouldn't even notice your aim's off more than usual. If you shot at me the same distance after taking it off, you'd probably hit me dead on. It uh... it doesn't work point blank, but.
[He knows that from experience, but that's besides the point.] That one's... for you to keep. If you want.
[Jindosh hums, agreeing - he is so smart, thanks babe - and turning the charm over in his hand with interest. He knows he can't, for example, pull it apart and see if he can understand the magic that fuels it, but he definitely wants to. It's worth studying the range of its effectiveness, maybe tying it to some clockworks - does it work on clockworks, or does the wearer have to be flesh and blood? His mind is racing with ideas, theories to test, and the longer he looks at the charm in his hand the more the hissing, singing sound coming from it seems nicer—but Paolo is here, warm against his side, and being kind of sweet about the whole thing.
The bullet shield murder charm. He's sweet about it. Jindosh curls his fingers into his hair, turning his head just enough to press a kiss against his temple, dirt and scrapes and all. He really digs this murder charm.]
You will have to show me how to test it without it trying to curse me, or whatever it is they do. [sorry Outsider,] I'm offering before you start making that face at me.
[Hm, hmm. He flips the charm over again, studying it. He can clip it to his belt, he supposes... Now as for this hooligan,] I... am glad you're here.
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It's certainly not his winning personality. But he is not patient and he burns bridges like a bad habit, and so in the months following his encounter with Lady Emily Kaldwin, while his mind stitches itself back together, he remains bitter and unforgiving. The Empress will never know his loyalty (not to say that she ever had it, but now), and if he were not so—hindered by what she did to him, he would have sent an army of machines after her already.
He's that kind of man. Instead, he wastes away the days trying to force the healing of his mind to completion through any means possible, and after months he is finally more than a shadow of his former self. He still has moments, horrible moments, where he can't think of a single formula and the most advanced idea he's had in ages turns out to be one he himself invented over a decade ago, but the mind is elastic in a way the body is not. Parts of it feel stronger than before, at the expense of others.
He's bitter about this, too, but it's with a grim satisfaction that even with this... handicap, not a single soul in the Isles could hold a candle to him.
Which does not, as it so happens, prevent the leader of the Howlers from waltzing into his house and past his guards and Clockworks like he's brushing aside flies. Jindosh is mystified by the man - Paolo - and both hates and finds a thrill in the feeling. If every visitor to his house is a new challenge for the soldiers then they are puzzles for the resident creator, and Paolo—every puzzle can be solved, Jindosh espouses this like a religion, there is nothing he cannot pick apart piece by piece in the end, but...
(There is so rarely a but, when other people are involved.)
But Paolo possesses some kind of darkness, some black magic that puts him on a level above the average person who wanders into Jindosh's home. If he is a puzzle, then his pieces are all the same shape and all of them are blank. But Jindosh has never refused a challenge, and he isn't about to start now.
So it happens that today, long after the first time the Howler's leader wandered into his home to threaten him about something the Duke wanted and the third time this week he's come back to do Jindosh doesn't know what, Jindosh is not in a hurry to greet him. He knows thanks to his mansion that Paolo is there, loitering in his guest waiting room and probably touching something he shouldn't, but he's busy today and he doesn't have time to immediately rush to his side.
He wants, also, to see what Paolo will do if he tries his patience like this, after adapting to the opposite routine. He's curious. Eventually, when he wanders in with a bottle of wine and a couple glasses, he has the look on his face of a man who knows full well that he just wasted at least half an hour making Paolo wait.]
Ah, my favorite guest, you've been so very patient. How long will my home hold your interest, I wonder? It doesn't seem to challenge you at all, anymore.
[somewhat offensive,]
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[Paolo was well-off since the Empress's departure from Karnaca. The Abbey was no long at his throat, and Duke-in-training was wrapped around his finger within the first week of their meetings. "Abele" had suggested he enter Jindosh's home and unravel any secrets before he got ahead of them, as he could be "the downfall of the Empire." He had said Paolo should be concerned about the newfound hatred for the Empress, as she was technically their ally now.
But Paolo had no interest in the schematics he delivered, nor whatever the noble disliked. What had him returning is what Jindosh liked. The look on his face at their initial meeting was amusing, sure, but it was nothing like the glint in his eye when he hungered for answers. He looked as if he were something to be pulled apart and put back together again, and Paolo... well, he would like to see him try.]
I'd much rather get under your skin than in your home's walls, Mr. Jindosh. Whatever impatience you thought you would rouse from me does not exist when you have endless things I can break.
[Like that clockwork model in a glass case behind him. It wasn't intentional, but... He still smiles with no trace of regret, clasping his hands together in front of him.] I wonder how long you spent monitoring my movements, instead of getting anything done.
no subject
So, he is furious, and yet the intrigue stops him from setting his soldiers on Paolo each time he walks through the door. Eventually something would have to take. How many trial runs will they run through before Paolo's blood stains his floor and doesn't fade?]
Hmm, my skin. Intriguing. [His gaze flicks to the broken model neatly sealed up in its case behind Paolo, but he is less bothered by that than the man's words. Jindosh will make no comment on Paolo being correct about what he was doing, wasting time - of course not.] Did you know only a handful of people have come into my mansion with the quaint expectation of unraveling my secrets before those hidden in the walls? Not a single one lasted long enough to even find me.
[It doesn't really count as finding him if he keeps walking out here voluntarily, so Paolo is already taking shortcuts. How fascinating. Jindosh hums, raising the bottle of wine.] You have already spoiled my afternoon, so allow me to humor you so that you may go, quickly.
[It's never quickly. He knows.]
no subject
[And to just be extra infuriating, he'll follow those words with a wink. While Paolo was the dot under a question mark, he sought an exclamation. He knew his words sparked fire, and he wouldn't stop his approach until Jindosh burned.
So he'll follow them up with more, reaching to take up the bottle, not a glass, rather than wait for it to be given.] I am not interested in what other people have tried and failed to do. I think we can both agree I've surpassed them on... many, many levels. For instance, [as he pulls the cork from it effortlessly,] none have gotten your brows to knit like that so much times, have they?
[Ignore him absolutely intending to just drink from it, who needs glasses.]
no subject
It has never worked before; he is busy, far too busy, and even standing here listening to Paolo make these overtures at him is making his fingers twitch restlessly for all the work he isn't doing.
Still, when Paolo reaches for the bottle and their hands touch for that briefest of seconds, Jindosh is faintly surprised there isn't a shock passed between them. Perhaps he should stop thinking of Paolo as kindling until he knows exactly what the man is trying to set ablaze.]
I could have you removed from the premises without lifting a finger, [he says idly, a helpful reminder that his house can kill people. And he is about to go on before his brow does knit just like that, again, as he reaches for the bottle to stop Paolo being some kind of heathen slumlord.
Like, he is one, but he could pretend to have class in Jindosh's presence.] I can't stand it when my honored guests start being petty. And you don't yet have a single drop of alcohol in you!
[so quit it,]
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The Crooked Hand is a tavern, my fiery friend. If you think that this is my first drink of the day, you have not had the experience of handling someone so... high maintenance. [Yeah, he said it, fight him.
But the heathen slumlord will relent, if with something akin to a pout. He relinquishes the bottle, waving his hand once it's free and choosing to pass with a roll of his eyes. He's already walking as if he knows the way, though his visits have supposedly been few.] Perhaps you will be less strung up if we are in the laboratory you should have been working in. I'm curious to see what you've replaced Howler bodies with. Overseers? Your own guardsmen?
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Jindosh expresses all of this with a raised eyebrow, looking (down) at Paolo like he isn't being incredibly interesting today, and that's rather disappointing.
Ah, but Jindosh does love talking about his work.]
Thieves, who came into my home thinking they would leave with some kind of prize. The clockwork soldiers handled the first, but the second I kept to deal with myself. He won't covet my collections anymore.
[First of all because he's definitely dead, second of all because Jindosh may have tied a bag over his head and cut off his hands. He doesn't want to carry this wine around anymore but he might need it to bargain with, so he shifts the glasses and bottle all into one hand to leave the other free for pointed gesturing.
They are not going to the laboratory, notably. Jindosh will take special care to lead Paolo somewhere else entirely, a useless room with spare parts and maybe a table and most of a clockwork soldier crucified in its half-built state against the wall. It's like a miniature lab?]
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[Oh, hey, he'll even gesture towards the unfinished clockwork to make his point. He'd flinched the first few times around, knowing the feeling of being speared on their arms. Now? He'll pat the head, leaving it as crooked as his tie before he placed the hand on the table.] You always got people coming in, but you never leave an example of what it's like to walk out after what you've done to them. Have 'em stumbling into the streets with what you did and you'll find you got a lot less unwanted guests at your doorstep.
Unless, well, you don't do it because you get lonely or some shit.
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[Stop... breaking his toys?? He's easily distracted by this, fussing with the clockwork for an extended moment before he sighs shortly, like talking to Paolo is a headache that isn't worth it. It's one of those things; Jindosh is still undecided as to which one it is more often. Since he's recently given up on setting expensive clockworks on Paolo, it logically follows that he is walking him around the mansion for his conversation.
A glutton for punishment? Hardly. A glutton for some kind of answer to his burning curiosity—that's better.]
If people stopped coming, it would be awfully hard to find test subjects for the clockworks that don't necessitate my building them myself. [Reminder: even the shittiest clockwork costs a fortune.] I am interested in efficiency, as you know very well from your encounter with them. A soldier that requires electric power to run must kill quickly and move on—they aren't programmed to engage in pretty duels for the sake of pride, or "honor."
[So he doesn't really need to send a message about suffering, or see it at work himself—he's not a torture artist, he's a researcher. Please, Paolo.]
The Jindosh mansion, where men and women of all ages and possessing all kinds of skills come in, and no one comes out. [There's a thin smile on his face, almost as if this is a real tagline for his crazy house and he's really fond of it.] You, my slippery friend, are the one spoiling the image.
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By every account, it'd seemed he'd left. The glasses they hadn't finished the night before were emptied and carefully put back, and the robe that'd started it all was hanging over a chair. He hadn't left his clothes in the bedroom, and the only sounds were the distance waves hitting shore.
But eventually water ran through the wall between the bed and bath, and some unknown amount of time later, the lever was being pulled to rotate the bedroom back to its rightful space. He couldn't bring himself to be all that sorry if Jindosh was still sleeping.]
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He might have even slept a bit longer than four hours by the time Paolo pulls that lever, thanks to the previous night's activities. Of course, the jolt of the whole bed as the floor starts to move and the accompanying sound are enough to rouse him, and the first thing he thinks upon vaguely trying to sit up is that he's sore. Ow.
Sex is terrible. Paolo spinning his bedroom around while he's still in bed is worse. He hasn't even managed to sit up beyond sort of leaning up on one elbow. Ugh.]
Don't, [he manages, and that is it. Kirin Jindosh, Grand Inventor, not a morning person.]
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He's cute. Cute enough that when Paolo's walking back up to the bedside, he'll keep a softer voice. He's still rubbing his hands to feel how soft the soaps made his skin, so he won't shove them in his face quite yet.] Good morning, Grand Inventor.
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You're here. [He's surprised, but that just-woke-up expression keeps it off his face. He shifts like he might reach out to touch Paolo, but hums and tries to finger-comb his own hair into something less bedhead first.
Is he even really awake. Sources unclear.]
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Because it was one of his. Ignore that, though, look at his hands.] Smell better, too-- smell this.
[Is Paolo actually this excited about soap and lotion, or is he using it to ignore the fact he should've left hours ago? Unclear.]
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But—again—here he is. He lifts a hand to rub at his face and nudges Paolo's hands with the other.] No. I know what my soap smells like.
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Sooner you get up, sooner you stop noticing how much your ass hates you. [Would he know? Maybe.] Ran new water for you and everything. You should really smell, though... Don't think my hands haven't been this soft since I was a kid.
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That would be the point of the soap. Amazing, that you figured it out so quickly. [Ah, so he's still in there, underneath the sleepy squinting. He's still not going to smell Paolo's hands, but after a beat he takes half a step away from the bed and hooks his arm around Paolo to pull him close to his chest. He only needs a couple seconds to press his lips against Paolo's hair, more for the closeness than actually kissing him there, but hmm.
Yes, he smells nice. Good for him. Jindosh lets go of him just as abruptly, turning to shuffle off the platform so he can spin this room back again. Bathing, that's what's important. Don't talk to him about feelings.]
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It could be argued that it was reasonable, if one knew the distance he traveled, and what it took to get raw whale bone from the whalers without a fight. But Paolo never said that his lateness was unacceptable, and apologized for being a few minutes off to getting cut open. Paolo wouldn't say it now.
He wouldn't say it on the fifth evening that the clockworks identified him, and the floors picked up his weight. The guard's night shift had started, the elevator was off limits, and he still forced himself up the stairs to the corridor leading to the bedroom. Regardless of whether Jindosh was there or in the laboratory, he set a leather bag that reeked of dark magic aside and slipped into bed like he'd last been in it yesterday.]
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The fourth night he worries, but not long enough to do anything about it. It's still easier to believe Paolo is standing him up, and he gets less and less work done progressively for how irritated he is, but there isn't anyone around to point it out. Pity.
When the clockworks register that Paolo is there, when the house announces his presence to the lab, Jindosh doesn't hear it because he isn't down there. He's getting nothing done on new projects so he's decided to improve old ones: tonight, his silvergraphs all in a line. He's fiddling with one when he hears someone in the next room over, which makes him pause - but ultimately, he's going to finish fiddling with whatever he's been trying to do with the machine before he comes around to the bedroom.
Hmm. He glances down at the bag, but as much as he would love to go stick his hands in it he supposes he has a point to make, which is that he deserves some kind of explanation.] My house isn't hard to find.
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It hadn't been ages, but it had been the all the days since he left. When Paolo lifts his head to sit up, there's angry scuffs along one side of his head, while both sets of knuckles were almost freshly bruised when he drags a hand down. His suit wasn't as filthy as it could be, but there's dirt pressed into his pant legs and dried blood on the jacket. Blood he seems to have tried to wipe out to little avail.]
I uh... I'm sorry. [He offers, defeated, grabbing at the bag to pull it open.] I got-- I got more than you'll need for one, and... Byrne pulled one over me while I was out. He was waiting for my trip to be more than a day, and... I had to take care of some things. [He was tired.]
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Getting him extra bones for charms, that's nice of him—and he's distracted by looking down at the bag again, instead frowning at Paolo. He'll claim it's his excitement about bone charms that's making him steadily less angry with Paolo, and not relief over the fact that he's alright and he came back. How pathetic. So.]
Of course you did. [Hooligan. But he's already coming over to sit on the bed and watch Paolo open the bag. Hey. He's not even commenting on how Paolo is definitely too filthy to be in his bed right now, as he glances up from the bag and immediately reaches out to touch his cheek, before he can stop himself.] You are a mess.
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Reasonably, he should just lie back down and rest. But he owes Jindosh what he promised, no matter how many days later, so he's rolling up his sleeves and delicately withdrawing a charm from the depths of raw whalebone and wire. A Black bone charm only by name, metal melded around it in a circle to hold it together, roughly fitting into a palm.]
They came looking for these. Killed two of my guys when they found out they were taking advantage of my hospitality. [There's no smile to offer there, but he is reaching to take Jindosh's other hand to place the charm into it.] Killed three of his and sent one back with his hands nailed to his buddies' heads. Other one I kept. We're gonna use bits of him. [This is him apologizing. He killed people, Kirin, accept these.]
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And this one Paolo puts right into his hand. He blinks down at it as Paolo explains all that happened, all the murder that occurred to get these things to his hands, and alright - he appreciates the effort. Still looking at the charm, he moves his hand up to run his fingers through Paolo's hair, despite how gross he is. Come here, come here...]
All that for this. [It's singing and he can't stop looking at it, even if he closes his fist around it he can still hear the singing, look at this thing—] I wondered if you were trying to make a complete fool of me. No one writes about your exploits in the papers anymore, now that the Duke finds you so useful.
[So, there, his feelings were hurt but he's fine now. This is fine. He tugs Paolo closer, a silent offer to lean against him before he passes out.] What manner of bewitching does this one do?
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It makes bullets whiz right past you. [He reaches back into the bag, pulling a thin, chapped slab of whalebone. Unsuitable for a rune, but room enough to carve. ] Make 'em out of these. If you wanted to shoot at me with it on, you probably wouldn't even notice your aim's off more than usual. If you shot at me the same distance after taking it off, you'd probably hit me dead on. It uh... it doesn't work point blank, but.
[He knows that from experience, but that's besides the point.] That one's... for you to keep. If you want.
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The bullet shield murder charm. He's sweet about it. Jindosh curls his fingers into his hair, turning his head just enough to press a kiss against his temple, dirt and scrapes and all. He really digs this murder charm.]
You will have to show me how to test it without it trying to curse me, or whatever it is they do. [sorry Outsider,] I'm offering before you start making that face at me.
[Hm, hmm. He flips the charm over again, studying it. He can clip it to his belt, he supposes... Now as for this hooligan,] I... am glad you're here.
[shh]
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