Log : A visit of the minister

["Martin Hirsch (Filarion)" <filarion@earthlink.net>]

end


Log file from Dune 3 - Filarion.

29/01/99 9:57:47 PM

Players : Boris, Cato, Filarion, Lita (Filarion) and Kristianna (Karin)

----Warning : This log contains innuendo and may be unsuitable for those

easily offended----

---------------

Traffic Loop -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)(#644RntJ)

A plascrete roadway loops in a semicircle in front of the Harkonnen
Embassy. Ground traffic busily fills the loop, picking up and
discharging passengers. In the center of the loop is a huge granite
statue of a springing ram greeting all who enter. Ten flagpoles, each
flying a large blue banner, tower over the area.

Players:

 Cato

Exits:

 Slidewalk <N> leads to Negara II Plaza -- Embassy District (Kaitain)

 Fanmetal Gate <SW> leads to Garden of Bitterblooms -- Harkonnen Embassy

(Kaitain)


Cato bows shortly as Filarion draws close to him, "Good evening, Count
Filarion." His attache case is currently being cleared by the security
guards, and his hands are folded in front of him.

Filarion makes his way out of the garden, the two guards in Harkonnen
colors stepping aside to let him pass. As he notices you he bows his
head, his chest following the movement only a bit. "You must be Earl
Saratahiko, then. Please excuse the delay, Minister, it is my own fault
and is no sign of arrogance on the side of our House. But excuse my idle

words, " He motions the Earl to follow him after the guards finish their

search of the briefcase.

Cato accepts the bow, and his briefcase, casually with a smile. Cato
follows the younger man into the compound smartly.

You walk through the Fanmetal Gate.


You walk through the Burnished Doors.

The twin slave girls hold the ivory doors open for you as you enter.

Salon -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

A long, low-ceilinged room, lit by freefloating suspensor lamps. In the
very center of the room bubbles a small indoor fountain.The walls are
paneled in comfortable dark woods. There are a variety of tables
scattered about the room, promoting conversation and relaxation. Smoke
usually fills the air. A low dais, accessible by a short flight of
stairs, runs along the eastern wall, with more tables up there. Along
the western wall is a sideboard, where Keffi waits to make guests
comfortable.

Players:

 Cato                                  Filarion

Objects:

 Bajazet's dancers

Exits:

 Sloping Tunnel <D> leads to Arena Grandstand -- Harkonnen Embassy
(Kaitain)

 Embellished Portal <S> leads to Dining Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy
(Kaitain)

 Ivory Doors <N> leads to Giedi Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Keffi glances up and curtsies to Filarion. "Good evening, Count
Filarion. May I pour your usual whiskey for you?"

Boris enters the Salon from Giedi Hall.

Boris has arrived.

Keffi glances up and curtsies to Boris. "My lord Baron! We are honored
by your presence here!"

Cato waves away Keffi idly, glancing about the room with a little
curiousity to see if anything has been changed since his last visit. He
approaches a table, upon which he lays his briefcase, but Cato does not
yet sit down, waiting for the arrival of the Baron.

Kristianna enters the Salon from Giedi Hall.

Kristianna has arrived.

Keffi glances up and curtsies to Kristianna. "Welcome to the Salon, ! My

name is Keffi. Your wish shall be my command."

Filarion is standing quietly beside a table, sweeping into a bow as the
Baron enters, his not yet touched whiskey positioned on the table. "My
Lord Baron."

Kristianna smiles cooly and nods. She turns to regard those in the room,

and courtseys to them.

Boris chuckles as he enters, as he is given his usual full goblet of
Giedi Red. "Ah, Count Filarion, you said there was an important visitor,

eh? But all I see is this Ginaz fellow...He looks familiar."

Cato turns from where his briefcase sits on the table to smile rather
familiarly towards the Baron, which is quickly eclipsed by the depth of
his bow. When Cato returns to an upright stance, he bows again, less
impressively, towards the lady.

Light blonde curls frame this woman's pixy-like features, contrasting
with her large, deep brown eyes. They cascade past her shoulders to mid
back. The gown she wears bares her shoulders, revealing rather muscular
arms for this very feminine-looking woman. The gown is a gold-brushed
beige that shimmers when light hits it, and clings to her every curve.
Just above the knee, it splits, revealing the woman's finely toned legs.

She wears gold slippers on her feet. A cape of sorts, the same hue of
her gown, is worn over her shoulders, held in place by a golden brooch.

Boris regards Cato with a grin. "Minister Cato, isn't it? Yes...Good to
see you, eh? Will you take a drink? Would you care for a slave to come
and help you relax before we meet, eh? We'll have one of our girls work
on you, you'll feel like a new man, eh?"

Filarion remains standing, not commenting unless he is asked for his
opinion here. The only freedom he allows himself is to take a seat in
one of the recliners, whiskey in his left, tobacco bag and pipe in his
lap, ready to be put to use.

Cato shakes his head in the negative, still holding that sickeningly
placid smile on his face. "Thank you, my lord, but I am fine. I have
come to discuss a matter of foreign policy with you, if that is to your
likening...?"

Kristianna watches the Baron as he speaks, then glances at the man he
addresses. Her brows quirk a bit, but otherwise her expression remains
unchanged, the cool smile resting on her lips as though painted there.

Boris claps his hands, "Slavemaster! Bring our Ginaz friend here one of
those well-endowed brunettes from Xanadu, eh?"

Boris sinks into one of the overstuffed couches.

Boris nods. "A matter of foreign policy...Very well, if we must. How can

we be of assistance, Minister?"

Cato sits down as Boris does, falling further into the opulent cushions
than he orginally intended, but controlling his intial flash of suprise
deftly. He leans forward to fight off the decadent couch in a vain
attempt at professionalism, and folds his hands ontop of his knees.
"House Ginaz is curious as to House Harkonnen's position concerning the
Lord Josef Stalinsky-Rastanyev."

Kristianna moves to stand just behind where Boris chooses to sit. She
rests a hand on the back of the couch then retracts it, letting it drop
to her side.

Boris chuckles. "That's one of the contenders for the Rastanyev title,
eh? You should know, Minister, that House Harkonnen takes no interest in

the internal matters of other Houses. Isn't that so, Count Filarion?"

The slavemaster who had bowed and hurried from the room at the Baron's
order returns, a gorgeous, well-endowed brunette in his wake. She is
attired in much the same way as the other female slaves, leaving enough
to the imagination. Her dark brunette hair curls in such a way as to
emphasize her assets. The slavemaster bows in the Baron's direction,
then takes a step back to present the slave.

Filarion nods at the Baron's words. "This is true. There is no need to
be interested in or even intervene in other House's internals unless
they directly or indirectly affect us or our allies."

Cato glances towards Filarion, and then back to Boris with just the
slightest hint of disbelief in his upturned eyebrow. "Indeed? No
interest? Am I to understand the House Harkonnen wishes to take no hand
in the succesion to the Rastenyev Earldom?" Cato looks up as the slave
is presented. He beckons the girl in his direction, and then pats the
sofa beside himself softly, whereupon he promptly ignores her existance.

Boris leans forward in his seat, grinning. "Perhaps you should tell us,
Minister, how this will affect us. What does Josef think of House
Harkonnen, eh? And did he send you here?"

Filarion clears his throat slightly, remaining silent.

The girl does as she is beckoned to do, and begins her assault on the
man, running her hands through his hair, then massaging his neck. She
smells of jasmine and roses, with a hint of musk. Her body curves
against his arm, her legs against his legs. Her hands move to his
shoulders.

Cato smiles disarmingly as the Baron moves in for the kill, though the
effect of pure innocence is ruined by sight of fingers running
luxuriously through his graying hair. Spreading his hands flat in the
air, he waves away the suggested relationship. "Ah, Baron, you seem to
have mistaken me for a Stalinsky errand-boy... I am here in the
interests of House Ginaz, and no other. We have not spoken of the
Harkonnen with the Earl.

Boris says, "I see the way of things, now, Minister. You'd like this
fellow removed...Shall we embarass him in some manner? Or shall we have
him killed?"

Boris gulps at his wine.

Filarion stares intently, absorbing what little information is reveiled.

Absentmindedly he starts to ready his pipe, using the tobacco of his
leather pouch and a small metal cylinder to ignite it.

Kristianna watches the girl with Cato, faint color in her cheeks. The
smile wavers just a little. She takes a deep breath and lets it out
slowly. Around the room, no one else reacts. This apparently is
protocol. The slave girl proceeds with the massage, curving around the
man to reach his back with both hands. She ends up sitting on his lap to

do so. Kristianna glances away.

Filarion ties the pouch shut, placing it back into a compartment at his
belt, puffing the pipe, a small trail of smoke ascending, quickly adding

to the smoke that hangs under the ceiling in this room.

Cato closes his eyes as if requesting patience from a higher power, but
does not lose a watt on the intensity of his smile. "My Lord," Cato
pauses to push some of the girl's hair out of his face, and continues,
"My Lord, the Earl is a unknown quantity, I don't believe removing him
out of hand is warranted. We simply wanted to know whether House
Harkonnen posseses an agenda where the man is concerned."

Boris says, "Oh, let us suppose, just for the sake of argument, that we
do. How will that affect our conversation here?"

Cato shrugs nonchalantly, "Most likely, it will lengthen it, my lord."

Boris snaps, "Most likely? Why can't you diplomats speak plainly, eh?
You came to us, Minister.You must have come needing something. Does this

Josef fellow pose some threat to the Lady Ivanova?"

Cato answers the complaint with another shrug, evidently unconcerned
with Boris's ire. "Earl Stalinsky surely is a threat to the Lady... but
I thought House Harkonnen was not interested in the internal affairs of
other Houses."

The slave girl's fingers roam around to the front of Cato's suit jacket
and unbutton it. She slips her hands up to his shoulders and proceeds to

push the jacket back and over them, working his arms free of the sleeve.

In the process, her 'assets' rub up against him. Kristianna resolutely
focuses her attention on the conversation, eyes fixed on the back of the

Baron's head. Something of a grin lurks at the corners of her mouth, and

her eyes glint just a little.

Filarion raises his voice from his place in the back, "He would become a

threat to us if his intentions are malicious."

Boris snorts. "Your lady always acts like she stepped in mastodon
droppings when she's about us, eh? Serve her right if one of these
Rastanyev turnip farmers did her in..."

Cato turns his head to look at Filarion, and opens his mouth to respond,

but is stopped by the incessant man-handling of his person by the slave
girl. He turns his eyes to regard her for the 2nd time in the
conversation, and gently lifts her off of his lap and places her beside
him with the quiet admonishment, "Be still." Cato shrugs his jacket back

onto his shoulders, and straightens his tie, looking composed again in
seconds. He finally responds to Boris himself. "That is precisely what I

came to inquire after; House Harkonnen's opinion of the various
contenders."

Ruby lips pout as the slave girl is summarily removed from the
Minister's lap. Still, she does as she is bid, sitting still as a
statue. Kristianna's regard now falls on Cato, assessing the man once
again.

Boris chuckles. "This Belgoth fellow seems quite an ambitious little
fellow. If he's not careful, he'll be squashed like a toad, eh?"

Filarion nods more to himself, "He will for sure."

Cato smiles serenely, "Actually, that is exactly my estimation of the
man. However, he is sure to bring down others with himself."

Filarion exhales the blue smoke of the pipe, "House Harkonnen would not
mind if that were the right ones to fall."

Boris says, "Why should that matter to us, Minister? The Lady Ivanova
seems to have little interest in our friendship."

Cato's eyes light up like firecrackers as Filarion makes a leading
statement, but he simply turns his head towards the Count and says,
"Oh?" He glances to Boris as the question is asked, but lets the
inquisitive grunt stand by itself.

Boris gestures. "I urge you not to waste the girl, Minister. These
Xanadune are most excellent. Sample her, if you will, eh?"

Filarion replies the Minister's glance, his face remaining unmoved as he

sips from his whiskey.

Cato's eyes dart towards the girl, taking in her attributes as a matter
of politeness, and then shakes his head sorrowfully. "I'm sorry, my
lord, but my wife would poison me if I did."

Filarion manages a faint smile, slowly shaking his head, "Poison, eh?"

Boris says, "What a tawdry life you must lead...No matter. Hm. Well, as
for your other disputants for the title, we would be most interested in
the outcome. A new Siridar, more open-minded, with an eye towards
improving his House's fortunes, could well benefit from our patronage,
eh?"

Cato smiles at the Baron's suggestion. "My Lord, that is precisely House

Ginaz's opinion. With that out in the air... we are wondering at the
possiblity of our resources working together for that aim."

For the few seconds that Cato looks her over, the slave girl brightens
and turns toward him, preparing to run her fingers up her arm. At his
refusal, she eyes him for a long moment, then sighs, placing her hands
together on her lap. Boredom is written all over her face.

Filarion snorts contentedly, savouring the taste of his pipe again he
nods to Cato, "Indeed. Now the only thing that needs to be determined is

whether he would prove more cooperative afterall."

Boris says, "Tell me what old Morgen thinks of this matter, eh?"

Cato winks at Filarion in a way that can only be described as
'conspiratorily'. For all intents and purposes, that answers Boris's
question before he even opens his mouth. "The Marquis is of the opinion
that the young Earl bears investigation, but could prove remarkably
useful... if approached correctly."

Boris says, "Does he? I'd be most interested in hearing why you haven't
done so...Unless you have, and bungled it, and now you want the experts
to do it, eh? Eh?"

Cato smiles with all his teeth, which is usually recognized as not being

entirely friendly. "My Lord, allow me to clarify. The decision to come
to House Harkonnen was mine... of course, the Marquis agreed with me,
which is why I am here. I thought the message would be many times more
powerful to the young Earl if it was delivered from multiple factions in

unison."

Boris says, "I'll have the Count here approach him. But why us,
Minister? We're the closest allies of your deadliest enemies. Do you
think to befriend us in alliance?"

Filarion coughs into the back of his hand politely before speaking, "At
times, unity is more productive than war and our closest and dearest
allies would never learn of this cooperation, My Lord Baron.."

Cato wobbles his head back and forth while his mouth forms a thoughtful
frown, "Admittedly, the thought had crossed our minds, but primarily, we

felt that..." He pauses as Filarion speaks, and spreads his hands as if
to mean, "What more can I say?"

Boris looks at both men as if they were mad. "Great Ivan's liver! Of
course they won't find out." He shakes his head and sips his wine. "Tell

me what 'message' you will send them, eh?"

Cato smiles broadly at the oath, and elucidates, "That, depending on his

attitude, he can aquire resources uncommon to the head of the typical
House minor."

Filarion shifts in his seat as he pulls out the tobacco puch once more,
refilling the pipe, tossing the ash into the tray held by a slave. "Very

wise, offering him resources is good. Offering him political
justification is insane."

Boris says, "If he has half a brain, and as a Rastanyev that's
debatable...he'll take the hint, eh?"

Cato nods at Filarion's statement, "That would be rash, indeed." Cato
then smiles as Boris's insult... after all, it's not at him this time.
"For a turnip farmer, he seems perfectly functional in political
circles, my Lord."

Boris grits his teeth, nodding. "True," he grumbles. "And if the na-Earl

becomes more to the Ginaz' liking, will he not be less to ours? You'll
seduce the fellow into becoming a Landsraad supporter, eh?"

Cato holds up a hand to halt that line of thought. "Baron, will you not
have equal opportunity to influence the Earl? We leave the future to the

future, if I may be blunt."

Boris laughs wildly. "Is that a challenge, Minister? I love challenges!"

Filarion smirks a bit, staying out of discussions concerning Landsraad
politics.

Cato smiles loses some of its luster for the first time in the
evening... he evidently does not relish this direction in the
conversation. "My lord, I ask that you not take my innocent and very
hypothetical question as a challenge; moreover, this is all moot if
Stalinsky proves as unaccomodating as the Regent."

Boris shrugs. "Then he's a fool. He can't stand up against all the rest
of the houses, eh? Only one man can do that."

Filarion nods empathecally, "..and get away with it unscathed, or so it
seems."

Cato does not ask who that one man is... he does not have to. "I am
unaware of what interests the other Houses are playing in this, my lord,

but I think the man has enough to worry about just within his own."

Boris purses his lips, thinking. "Very well, Minister. We will speak to
this na-Baron. He'll come around soon enough."

Cato sighs softly, a weensy bit of tension leaving his frame as this
situation is, temporarily, resolved. "Thank you, Baron. I am authorized
to say that House Ginaz looks forward to our cooperation."

Filarion bobs his head ever so slightly in acknowledgement of that fact,

emptying his whiskey with a large gulp.

Boris says, "Good, good! Now are you certain you won't have a bit of
that slave? If your wife objects, I'll send you home with a lad for
her..."

Cato smiles fondly at Boris's insistence, saying, "I don't believe that
would have the desired effect on my lady... and I can't say I'd be
terribly pleased if it did. No, though I thank you, Baron."

Boris says, "Count, what else have we got for the Minister here? Surely
some small trifle for him..."

Filarion shifts in his seat, locking his eyes to Cato, considering for a

moment, "Maybe the Earl would be fond of some extract of the Pomuah
plant of Drost V . It is an aphrodiasiticum and should reward him with
many hours of monogamic joy with his loved one." He chuckles to himself,

but that statement was sincere as a whole.

Boris laughs and applauds. "Excellent choice, Count! It'll make him tall

and straight like a flagpole! Let's gift him with a vial or three, eh?"
He gestures to some slaves to fetch the pomuah

Boris winks broadly. "Your wife will love it, eh?"

Cato makes a bad face, and waves the suggestion away, "We've
experiemented with that Pomuah vine business before, and I ended up
having an allergic reaction. Very embarrasing once the Suk figured out
what it was, and I had to put up with him laughing everytime I ran into
him. Thank you, but no."

Boris looks disappointed. "What DO you do for fun, old fellow? No
slaves, no pomuah.. Would you like a stimulant? A hallucinogen? A dog to

torment?"

Filarion rubs his chin with a gloved hand, considering other
possibilities.

Cato scratches his cheek with one finger, looking at the slave girl in
repose. He eventually answers, "I take great pleasure in the occasional
congac, my Lord. And of course, my children are a constant joy to me."

Boris says, "Children! Of course! Count...bring him some children. On a
leash, of course."

Cato nips that in the bud, "No!" He composes himself, "I mean, no thank
you, I refer to spending time with my biological children."

Boris puffs out his cheeks. "This is most unfortunate. I shall have to
mention this to the Marquis, how you refused out hospitality. This is no

way to cement our productive friendship..." He rises.

Cato looks around quickly, mind racing like a race horse. "Perhaps... a
non-Pomuah based stimulant? Something that won't trigger the old
allergy, as it were?"

Lita has arrived.

Lita enters the Salon, clad in a Pyjama. She curtsies quickly, then
moves over to Filarion, whispering something to him.

Boris says, "She's a Tleilax creation, d'you know? An eternal child.
She'll always be ten years old. Do you like her? Keep her!"

Filarion seems to be a bit embarassed that the kid shows up that late,
but manages to hide most of it, speaking to her, glancing up in horror
upon the Baron's proposal.

Filarion clears his throat, flushing a bit, very unlikely for him, "My
Lord Baron, there is much left to be learned from her..."

Cato's eyes drop to the pyjama-clad little girl in horror equal to
Filarion's, though perhaps for different reasons. He tries to find some
polite way of refusing this new torment, but can only speak in a small
voice, "really? how interesting..."

Lita is standing besides Filarion's seat, her blue in blue eyes
following the conversation. If she has feelings regarding her 'owner'
she hides them. Remaining her position could be a statement alone,
though.

Kristianna turns slightly to watch the child enter the room. A faint
smile touches her lips as the girl goes over to Filarion and whispers in

his ear. Her attention rivets on the Baron, however, as he speaks of the

child as being a Tleilax creation. Then she stares at the child. Her
cheeks flush even as Filarion's do.

Boris watches Cato. "If you don't like girls, I'm sure we have some boys

for you."

Cato smiles weakly, but seems determined to hold to the dictums of
polite society... regardless of what the other half of the conversation
is doing. "I'm afraid that gender is even more of an issue than age...
However, if you are determined to make a gift, I would curlish to refuse

it. The Baron is free to do as he wills."

Dark clouds roll in, bringing with them the sudden streaks of light that

rip across the blackness. Several seconds later, a rumbling thunder
follows.

Filarion nods, slowly rising as he does so. Lita looks up to him, but
Filarion awaits the judgement of the Baron with what seems to be
impassivity.

Filarion clears his throat, still standing, Lita at his side, "My Lord
Baron, I just wanted to remind My Lord that the Lady Ulricke is quite
fond of young Lita here and I am sure she would not like to see her
parting. The judgement is, of course, upon My lord Baron."

Boris says, "Lady Ulricke? Ahh...I see."

Boris turns to Cato sadly. "You will forgive me, Minister. My daughter
is my one failing, eh? I'm sure you understand. I can deny her nothing."

Cato latches upon this opportunity like a drowning man grasping for any
kind of lifeline. "Yes! I understand completely, Baron, for I feel the
same way about my own daughter... the verible light of my life!" Oddly
enough, Cato's fervor encompases only his facial expressions and his
bodily stances... he is not evidencing the other signs of distress
(sweating, flushness, quick breathing).

Boris says, "Let's give the Minister here some vials of blackspike, eh?
You'll enjoy it, Minister. One dose and you'll be awake for two weeks,
and the world will seem to race by, eh? Like a man on a comet. It's most

stimulating."

Boris claps the man on the shoulder in comradely fashion, chuckling.
Still laughing, he departs. "Good eve, all. Come, Kristianna."

Cato nods quickly, trying to seem very interested. "Blackspike, eh?
Sounds fantastic!"

Cato bows low to the retreating form of the Siridar, relieved to be
finally able to hide his expression from view.

Filarion exhales audibly, relieved by the Baron's judgement as he
empties his pipe into the ash-tray, then motioning for Lita to come with

him as well. "I will send Lita back to her bed and then be off to some
paperwork as well. If you would excuse me.."

Boris calls as he departs, "Come by, and bring that wife of yours next
time, eh?"

Cato bows again, this time to Count Lankiveil. "Please, do not let me
detain you."

Kristianna tears her eyes from the little girl, then nods to the Baron.
"Yes, m'lord," she acknowledges him. She walks around from the back of
the couch to follow behind him.

Lita hurries out, not forgetting to curtsie before doing so. "G'd eve."
she whispers as she leaves.

Lita walks to the north and passes through the Ivory Doors.

Boris walks to the north and passes through the Ivory Doors.

Kristianna walks to the north and passes through the Ivory Doors.

Cato looks from the departing Baron and his escort, then to the Count..
and finally to the blue upon blue eyed Tleilax creation. He sighs out a
lungful of air heavily, and walks over to the table where he has placed
his briefcase, picking it up and hefting it in his hand to feel the
comforting weight. Shaking his head slightly, he too makes his exit.

Cato walks to the north and passes through the Ivory Doors.