[Val closes his eyes, and draws in a breath, says a quick prayer, Maker,--]
Must you behave in this way, or do you choose to? So grasping, and always demanding, and suspicious--the worst offense of the group! You are hearing wrong, if what you are hearing is causing you to act in this way. I skirt nothing. I am saying, [slowly, and clearly,] that I have been advised to take care in the backing of this venture, and to seek additional funding, as is common for any venture of this sort, or any research project, for which you might apply for grants, or raise funds among a certain group of people interested in such ventures or projects--all very usual in these circumstances, n'est ce pas? Surely you are familiar.
Well then why didn't you just say so? Honestly, Monsieur - if you would only apply yourself to these things directly there would be no trouble at all between us. I've already been in conversation with colleagues elsewhere regarding just this question, and have been making considerations for how best to monetize our resources here through Riftwatch. But by all means [somewhere in this, she has turned from the doorway with an exhale of exasperation and the clear expectation that he either follow her back through the house or end the conversation] should you have thoughts on how we might expedite funding the project, I would be delighted to give you my opinion.
—And there is a new series of components that will be necessary. We should review it so you will have some idea on which of your contacts might be most worth pursuing.
[When she turns away, Val crouches to begin picking up the bits of shattered figurine, very carefully so as not to cut himself. Does he actually want it, or is this just his way of refusing to follow her? But, then again, if he wanted to refuse to follow her, wouldn't he simply refuse?]
What components?
[He has to yell it after her, so busy and engaged in figurine recovery is he.]
Refined lyrium, housed within a block of— [she's gotten far enough away that the particulars of the words have flattened into a high pitched drone, receding by degrees-- wait no, it's coming back again] —must be controlled by the copper band. And if you would come with me, I would be more than happy to go over the details, but apparently we must conduct our business here in the library.
[She reappears in the doorway again, pink as the ribbon in her hair. At some point during the course of the lap, she has stripped off one of the heavy leather gloves as if she's of a mind to challenge him to satisfaction with it.]
[Val is by now done with picking up the shards of porcelain, and has stowed them in one of the pouches he keeps at his belt for such occasions. Or similar occasions, at least. Heading for the door when she reappears, he pats her casually on the arm as he strolls past, back at ease.]
I do.
[And--]
Where and what are these details? And this workshop of yours? You cannot possibly expect me to call that room a library. Where are the books?
[The sharp noise she makes after him is very sharp indeed.]
They have been removed temporarily so as to clean and refinish the shelves. When they are returned to their place, it will be a perfectly respectable— The workshop at present is attached to the kitchen in the rear of the house. The three of us have spent quite some time and effort tearing out one of the walls and opening up the cellar so as to— [Perhaps if she walks very fast, she will be able to elbow past him and lead the way properly.]
And I will write the specifics down. But the most important parts are the refined lyrium and copper.
Nothing of the sort. Mr. Stark is a colleague; I assist him with his work, and he does the same for me. And Mr. Ellis has asked for no wage.
[The kitchens, when she eventually drives him in the correct direction, are clearly the most used portion of the house. They are downright respectable - clean and tidy and aired out in thanks to the large door leading into what must be the house's narrow garden. A narrow wooden stairwell leads into a sunken space which must have once been the root cellar, and now is populated by a table overflowing with paper and a black scorch mark at the center of the floor rather than turnips.]
Ah! An unpaid apprentice. How very academic of you, Mademoiselle Professor Slave-Driver. I assume you will give him a good recommendation, when his work this term is complete?
[As they come into the cellar, Val--for all his lightness and cavalierness--begins to look about with interest, marking the furnishings and the papers and anything else there might be to see. He goes for the table straightaway when they have quit the stairs, and picks up whatever bit of paper is closets to him.]
[She cannot help the skeptical look which possesses her. Remarkably irregular? Remarkably poor? Remarkably indicative of an education had outside the vaunted halls of whatever Orlesian institution he likes best today, perhaps?
A separate sheet of paper is produced and offered in trade for whatever scrap he's claimed.]
Here is the new list of components. The new design will require some additional smithing work not indicated in the initial drawings and I have yet to refine the exact shape, but I believe with these we may successfully avoid questions of either having to re-glyph the weapon, or risk the whole project losing its use should I suddenly disappear back into the Fade. So as to the question of funding, perhaps you might begin first by telling your counsel that the project has secured some newfound stability which was not present last week.
[He takes, without trading, the second sheet of paper, and begins examining it.]
We must ask the Fade not to take you. It would be a loss to the project. But it is very foresighted of you--no unfinished works! You are an example to us all. I should leave right now and finish the four papers that sit half-complete, and make a summary of some of my more current research.
[Would that she would be so lucky because: he doesn't leave. Instead he leans up against the table, and continues to review the list.]
Is Mr. Stark or Mr. Ellis to be your smith? Or should we take applications?
Mr. Stark. Or he will have a recommendation at least for the sake of the prototype, I'm certain. Should we find ourselves in the position to make more than that— well, then I suppose we might have to find all manner of people with which to do it.
[Here, a sudden pause. It's notable only on behalf of her usual momentum.]
You should be made aware, Monsieur, that the Provost evidently may not approve. As we agreed, I have yet to say anything at all to him about the project but it seems— Well, I hardly know. Only that whatever we eventually say to him may need to be different than simply showing our work. I mention it only as at this stage, we might be suited best to avoid being overly reliant on Riftwatch for any particular resource.
Good. Because if anything, you have inspired me further. If it is done without the knowledge of the provost--who, incidentally, I consider to be rather self-important for having given himself that title, among other offenses--then I am for it. Fortunately for us all, my counsel has very little say upon my feelings. I feel them for myself and I am the final word in all of my decisions.
[Somehow, that feels like a win. Maybe spite is good for a few more royals from the de Foncé estate.]
If you must. Now, as to the question of alternative sources of funding, Monsieur. Surely you didn't come here only to tell me that they must be secured. You must have some idea as to the direction in which we might look in.
No: I came here to tell you the state of my contributions to this project, and what my solicitor had advised.
[He tucks the list into an inner pocket.]
If you are asking me to brainstorm for ideas with you, for how we might raise funds, I am happy to do so, but I will expect to be fed. Or at least a drink, mademoiselle. One cannot do any serious thinking, academic or otherwise, without a drink to inspire. Do you not agree?
[Her mouth is already opening, poised to argue, some starting syllable half verbalized before it occurs to her that she does. It's a sour realization; her distaste for it plays obviously there in her face.]
I have something in the kitchen.
[That something is a bottle of rather good (objectively! Her taste in liquor is rather excellent, thank you, and she will sock him in his jaw if he pretends otherwise) brandy and rather less appealing molasses cookies gone just slightly too hard. But he is under no obligation to eat them, Wysteria thinks bitterly as she works her teeth through one.]
I dislike the idea of giving someone else too much ownership over the project. It would be better to raise funds independent of the project.
[Val turns one of the cookies over to look at the back of it. Then he dunks it into his glass brandy and holds it there, to let it soften.]
Research is best served by minds that will not stake claim to it. Of course, the invention of this device will be breathtaking. We should expect some infamy for it. And yet I hate the thought of someone grasping at its plans and smearing them with foolish greed. If we raise the funds by donations, we might remain the projects sole parents.
[Crack. That's the cookie, and not her teeth. Probably.]
We might consider developing some other small project - something to endear ourselves to an interested party who might be willing to fund further efforts without much question.
[To underline the fact that she will need to supply her suggestion first, Val shoves the whole brandy-softened cookie into his mouth. No way to get his input now. She must go first.]
[This is not what she intended to do with her afternoon. It is not, truth be told, a consideration that has even occured to her. He is supposed to be seeing to the funding, and so she has put the question entirely out her mind. There are other issues regarding the management of money weighing on her mind at present.
Wysteria studies the ceiling of the room while she works through her respectably sized bite of cookie. Would that she could simply sell off the most atrocious pieces out of this house.]
Perhaps someone would purchase your essays for publication. [No. Boring. Bad idea. And does nothing to solve the question of diversified funding sources.] I could write to-- a colleague I have. They might have some lead regarding work in need design. We should set our sights on a particular investor and woo them appropriately.
[Val pulls a face at that first suggestion. Excuse.]
I am a scholar, you are aware? So I do not sell my essays. I submit them. [Really. He takes a measured sip of his drink.] What colleague is this? Where did you meet this person?
He is a student of practical engineering. Or was at the time of our meeting; We met at a conference, and have kept in touch. He is now— it is not important. The point is, he is familiar with this sort of thing, and may have leads neither of us do.
[And, just for the record:] Scholars publish books sometimes.
Do you know how much time is involved in the publishing of a book? It is tiring even to consider. I have far too much to do to be bothered with this work and the process. And then there is the people involved. So many of them, all vying to influence the work and clip out pieces of it. It is horrible to consider, like a child cut all to pieces.
And then they must profit from it. Profit. This has little place in a true scholarly work, which is all that I care for. Is your student of practical engineering so principled, or will we deal with a man who sells his brain-children to the highest bidder and turn his back as they are cannibalized for profit?
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[Val closes his eyes, and draws in a breath, says a quick prayer, Maker,--]
Must you behave in this way, or do you choose to? So grasping, and always demanding, and suspicious--the worst offense of the group! You are hearing wrong, if what you are hearing is causing you to act in this way. I skirt nothing. I am saying, [slowly, and clearly,] that I have been advised to take care in the backing of this venture, and to seek additional funding, as is common for any venture of this sort, or any research project, for which you might apply for grants, or raise funds among a certain group of people interested in such ventures or projects--all very usual in these circumstances, n'est ce pas? Surely you are familiar.
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—And there is a new series of components that will be necessary. We should review it so you will have some idea on which of your contacts might be most worth pursuing.
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What components?
[He has to yell it after her, so busy and engaged in figurine recovery is he.]
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[She reappears in the doorway again, pink as the ribbon in her hair. At some point during the course of the lap, she has stripped off one of the heavy leather gloves as if she's of a mind to challenge him to satisfaction with it.]
Do you find this amusing? Is that what this is?
no subject
I do.
[And--]
Where and what are these details? And this workshop of yours? You cannot possibly expect me to call that room a library. Where are the books?
no subject
They have been removed temporarily so as to clean and refinish the shelves. When they are returned to their place, it will be a perfectly respectable— The workshop at present is attached to the kitchen in the rear of the house. The three of us have spent quite some time and effort tearing out one of the walls and opening up the cellar so as to— [Perhaps if she walks very fast, she will be able to elbow past him and lead the way properly.]
And I will write the specifics down. But the most important parts are the refined lyrium and copper.
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[Val does not slow for her. He does look around at her, and give a very pointed eyebrow raise.]
Is this funding that I am securing to pay apprentice wages?
no subject
[The kitchens, when she eventually drives him in the correct direction, are clearly the most used portion of the house. They are downright respectable - clean and tidy and aired out in thanks to the large door leading into what must be the house's narrow garden. A narrow wooden stairwell leads into a sunken space which must have once been the root cellar, and now is populated by a table overflowing with paper and a black scorch mark at the center of the floor rather than turnips.]
no subject
[As they come into the cellar, Val--for all his lightness and cavalierness--begins to look about with interest, marking the furnishings and the papers and anything else there might be to see. He goes for the table straightaway when they have quit the stairs, and picks up whatever bit of paper is closets to him.]
Your handwriting is remarkable.
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A separate sheet of paper is produced and offered in trade for whatever scrap he's claimed.]
Here is the new list of components. The new design will require some additional smithing work not indicated in the initial drawings and I have yet to refine the exact shape, but I believe with these we may successfully avoid questions of either having to re-glyph the weapon, or risk the whole project losing its use should I suddenly disappear back into the Fade. So as to the question of funding, perhaps you might begin first by telling your counsel that the project has secured some newfound stability which was not present last week.
no subject
We must ask the Fade not to take you. It would be a loss to the project. But it is very foresighted of you--no unfinished works! You are an example to us all. I should leave right now and finish the four papers that sit half-complete, and make a summary of some of my more current research.
[Would that she would be so lucky because: he doesn't leave. Instead he leans up against the table, and continues to review the list.]
Is Mr. Stark or Mr. Ellis to be your smith? Or should we take applications?
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[Here, a sudden pause. It's notable only on behalf of her usual momentum.]
You should be made aware, Monsieur, that the Provost evidently may not approve. As we agreed, I have yet to say anything at all to him about the project but it seems— Well, I hardly know. Only that whatever we eventually say to him may need to be different than simply showing our work. I mention it only as at this stage, we might be suited best to avoid being overly reliant on Riftwatch for any particular resource.
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Are you attempting to dissuade me from participating, by telling me this of the Provost?
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I am merely intimating the need for caution, should that affect the opinion of your counsellors.
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[He folds the list in half and holds it up.]
I will take this with me.
no subject
If you must. Now, as to the question of alternative sources of funding, Monsieur. Surely you didn't come here only to tell me that they must be secured. You must have some idea as to the direction in which we might look in.
no subject
[He tucks the list into an inner pocket.]
If you are asking me to brainstorm for ideas with you, for how we might raise funds, I am happy to do so, but I will expect to be fed. Or at least a drink, mademoiselle. One cannot do any serious thinking, academic or otherwise, without a drink to inspire. Do you not agree?
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I have something in the kitchen.
[That something is a bottle of rather good (objectively! Her taste in liquor is rather excellent, thank you, and she will sock him in his jaw if he pretends otherwise) brandy and rather less appealing molasses cookies gone just slightly too hard. But he is under no obligation to eat them, Wysteria thinks bitterly as she works her teeth through one.]
I dislike the idea of giving someone else too much ownership over the project. It would be better to raise funds independent of the project.
no subject
[Val turns one of the cookies over to look at the back of it. Then he dunks it into his glass brandy and holds it there, to let it soften.]
Research is best served by minds that will not stake claim to it. Of course, the invention of this device will be breathtaking. We should expect some infamy for it. And yet I hate the thought of someone grasping at its plans and smearing them with foolish greed. If we raise the funds by donations, we might remain the projects sole parents.
no subject
We might consider developing some other small project - something to endear ourselves to an interested party who might be willing to fund further efforts without much question.
no subject
[To underline the fact that she will need to supply her suggestion first, Val shoves the whole brandy-softened cookie into his mouth. No way to get his input now. She must go first.]
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Wysteria studies the ceiling of the room while she works through her respectably sized bite of cookie. Would that she could simply sell off the most atrocious pieces out of this house.]
Perhaps someone would purchase your essays for publication. [No. Boring. Bad idea. And does nothing to solve the question of diversified funding sources.] I could write to-- a colleague I have. They might have some lead regarding work in need design. We should set our sights on a particular investor and woo them appropriately.
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I am a scholar, you are aware? So I do not sell my essays. I submit them. [Really. He takes a measured sip of his drink.] What colleague is this? Where did you meet this person?
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[And, just for the record:] Scholars publish books sometimes.
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And then they must profit from it. Profit. This has little place in a true scholarly work, which is all that I care for. Is your student of practical engineering so principled, or will we deal with a man who sells his brain-children to the highest bidder and turn his back as they are cannibalized for profit?
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