(2109) Nights in Ivory
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"Left."
Conner doesn't deliberate for too long. He was a creature of action over analysis if he could help it. He takes whatever seat places him opposite Edward. "Do you play often? It's been a while since I've had the chance for such simple pleasures."
Continued from (2109) Eternal Court...
Side Thread Open!
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Continued from (2109) Eternal Court...
Edward opened his left hand to reveal a black pawn. He placed both pieces back onto the board and played c4, beginning the game with the English.
2 successes
"I find myself in a similar situation. There was a time I played weekly, and yet if memory serves the last game I played was upon this very board. A game with Mr. Moore, months ago now." He hadn't seen the giant in some time, presumably, he'd moved on, like so many others.
"Too many matters compete for my attention, poachers, business, feeding with this terrible Jackal muddling matters, and of course that dreadful affair with Priscus Hazelton." He laughed softly, "naturally, I'm more than a little to blame for that."
"Yet I should certainly make time for the game. My Sire believed it important, and he was my principal teacher. Entering unlife, I knew little more than how the pieces move."
Edward laughs again, this time more easily, "I can still recall my surprise when he explained En Passant to me."
"And what of yourself, Mr. Wells? What is your history with the Royal Game?"
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"I remember Mr. Moore. I haven't seen him in quite a while." The giant Nosferatu had certainly made an imposing part of the Nosferatu's gesture of loyalty during Mr. Kowalsic's sentencing. His absence was a somber reminder of how transient Kindred could be. I wonder if he felt he was at risk just because of his Clan affiliation?
Conner had heard about the Jackal investigation; as far as he knew it was going well. But how could it not, with Quinn helping out. Score one for team Shadow. Edward's mention of...whatever it was between him and Priscus Hazelton seemed a bit cavalier considering she could have chosen that moment to walk in the room, but maybe this was just the Incubus trying to make light of a difficult situation. That he could certainly relate to.
Conner plays his own pawn in mirror to Edward's. "My relationship with chess was more in theory than practice. My Sire used it as a training aid for swordplay; physical chess. Learning to gauge and react, but within a shorter time frame." There's a brief smile as Conner replays some of his fonder moments between him and his Sire, as few as they were. "Was your Sire from here in Sacramento? Or did you come here from abroad?" He knew so little about the origins of his fellow Kindred of the Domain. Perhaps knowing past-Edward would make knowing present-Edward a bit easier.
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The symmetrical was a welcome sight, although it almost didn't matter. Edward played out the Botvinnik system regardless of what his opponent tried, even if it was a bad idea. Tonight, it was a bad idea; black's slight but nagging advantage was visual proof.
"It would seem a shared point in our Sire's philosophies." Edward considered the board, looking for any of the usual pawn breaks. "He believed both a required skill for any man of culture."
Edward recognized the smile, having worn it himself many times. It gave him hope for the conversation.
"I don't believe he has ever been to Sacramento. He was born in England and moved to Canada when directed by his own Sire. I met him when I was travelling into the country for work." A polite way of saying, 'when I had no direction in my life and was freelancing.' "What of yourself? I gather you knew Priscus Durant, do you hail from the same place?"
Finally finding a way to work for the pawn break, Edward maneuvered a knight backwards.
Satisfied, Edward decided to revisit an early trailing point, "have you any history within the Invictus, Mr. Wells? I would not have thought a man of the church also a swordsman."
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Conner briefly surveys the board, weighing his options. "And what would you say a man of culture is, Mr. Heinrich?" His Sire had always found such descriptions, as she had so bluntly put it behind closed doors, "fucking inadequate." "A man of intelligence? Strategy? Does knowing battlefield tactics make you a better man?" His tone is inquisitive, careful just to skirt the possible edges of the Daeva's pride. The mention of his Sire hailing from abroad was an interesting touch, and the fact that it sounded like his Sire's movements weren't wholly voluntary. Perhaps Edward resents being here? Could that be why he clashes so easily with those in power? He thinks of his own initial bitterness towards the Lancea Sanctum...against those here, in Sacramento.
The mention of Quinn stirs a brief murmur of Bestial apprehension, but he doesn't let it falter the conversation at hand. "We met briefly in Los Angeles before either of us settled here. I spent most of my life and unlife in the City of Angels." A brief grin at the irony. "As for the Invictus, my history with them was fairly brief. My Sire and mentor in the Lancea Sanctum was a Templar: one of the more martial roles in the Covenant. She was fairly insistent in keeping me at her side, and that meant learning to defend myself. This in turn kept me far from most typical Invictus circles, like Eternal Court."
He moves another pawn forward, this one opening his bishop for possible entry. "And what of yourself? I understand that you're unaligned currently, but have you had exposure to any of the Covenants?" He knew Maeve was unaligned. Maybe this would help him understand her mindset.
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The Prince and Seneschal entered, Edward rose from his game to give each a bow, the first deeper than the second, and then returned to his game and conversation partner.
"I should think that is a similar question to the question of 'what is God?'" Edward leaned back in his chair, waiting for Connor's move to come. "An intriguing line of inquiry, but ultimately futile."
"If they were a commander, then certainly. For others..." Edward considered, free from the mental pressure of the board. "A gentleman does not collect too many achievements."
The mention of Templar was interesting; now that Edward thought about it, of course, every covenant would have a martial division. "I see." It helped to explain Conner's early fumbles. Not that Edward was one to talk. "For my own part, it was over a year before I attended Court."
"In the beginning, I only saw my Sire once or twice a month. I had an unusual amount of physical training, due to..." Edward's lips briefly twisted into a vague expression of discomfort, "well it is somewhat embarrassing to say, but I was dreadfully asthmatic. Consequently, I have never felt describing our condition as Damned is appropriate."
The move was a welcome sight, and he replied with his prepared pawn break instantly.
The question of covenants, "I am acquainted, but only shallowly. Many members of the Second Estate were called upon to consult while I was with the Invictus prior to Sacramento. What prompts your asking?"
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The sharp pang in his gut warns him of Prince Antinori and Seneschal Jack's arrival. He bows along with Edward, though he does linger standing just a bit. He hadn't yet heard from the Prince about acquiring the keys to the Moore House. She's toying with you. She doesn't want you to have any foothold in this place. Conner shakes his Bestial doubts aside.
Conner nods with a grateful smile, relieved that Edward was at least plain spoken. "An admirable observation. Sometimes the simple answer is the most complete." He thinks about what Edward says about accomplishment. "I guess that depends on what you want to accomplish." There are so many things that we can't do, even with all our power and long life. Raise a family...enjoy the sunlight...
He settles for moving another pawn forward, more eager to converse than play. "I agree, 'Damned' has been a name Kindred have carried for centuries mostly because of Human legends connecting us to demonic powers. I'm of the belief that the answer is a bit more complex, and not just physically."
Edward faces his question directly, and again the Shadow is grateful for the Daeva's succinctness. "As de facto leader of the Lancea Sanctum here, I want to know how to address concerns among the Domain population; spiritual or otherwise. I'm mostly curious of what your opinion is on the Second Estate and how comfortable you would be with having contact with them." Even if conversion was off the table, it would only be a matter of time before he'd have to get to know some of the Unaligned.
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Edward nodded, simply accepting the compliment. "And what would you like to accomplish, Mr. Wells?"
The pawn move briefly confused Edward, it seemed to have no direction, no purpose. Was the bishop forgotten so soon? Or was the early move only accidentally skillful? Even if it was a suboptimal plan, it was still an attempt. What about the hole I shall presently rip into your Kingside?
Well, Edward wasn't about to be ruthless. He decided on something plausible, a move that improved a rook but missed the point of the position. A move that did not throw the game, but gave the Shadow the chance to take an eight-count.
The offhand allusion to hell impressed Edward. Not many who went so far as join the church had that kind of social restraint.
"Do you believe it's a question that can be answered? Or does it lie with God and men of culture?" He asked his second question with a small smile. How seriously do you take yourself? The restraint implied either repressed pompousness or true dignity, Edward wanted to know which it was.
"I'm more than a little hesitant to go so far as to have an opinion, but as for comfort, yes, quite. With that general predilection in mind, I feel compelled to add that individual plays more than a small role. I find myself most on edge around the Circle, however, if I were to socially decompress, I should imagine my choice to be Ms. Wood for company."
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Conner thinks a moment on Edward's question. There were, of course, deeper motives the Incubus hadn't earned an answer to. But this was a good chance to get his general aim out of his head and into the world. "I suppose I'd like to leave the people around me in a better state than when I found them. That's what I want the Lancea Sanctum to be here under my leadership: a source of improvement for the Domain. And maybe somewhere in there, I'll improve too."
He watches Edward's next move, wondering if the Daeva was simply hoping to elongate the game out of spite or to simply continue the conversation. Either way, two could play at that game...
The second pawn advances a single space. Edward's question is met by a chuckle, and perhaps a bit of boldness from the Shadow Pastor. "In my experience, Mr. Heinrich, 'men of culture' have little to no interest in the soul. I do believe that in God are the answers, if only because God is all-knowing and has revealed his will through various means; the Testament of Longinus being one. Interpretation is where we struggle. As for answering the question..." His lips tighten into a thoughtful line. "The real struggle there is figuring out where truth gets lost in interpretation."
"That's a good perspective to have." He certainly valued the input of his Priscus, even when she was part of the Ordu Dracul. The mention of Mable does make him a bit tense. "Yes, she seems...pleasant. Have you spent much time with her?" What little he knew of the Savage was her political affiliation and that she was, apparently, a vicious fighter.
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Edward nodded in acknowledgement to the tail end, but he wouldn't ask about Connor's self-improvement. That was not polite conversation, especially between two who just met.
"Did you have any particular Domain improvements already in mind?" In some Domains, even raising the possibility of improvement was political suicide at best. This was not one of them.
Edward hid his disappointment as the Shadow continued to miss the point of the position, he felt to delay the optimal move further would be to insult his opponent, and so the hammer fell.
4th roll, 9-5
"Ah," Edward smiled, "just so, I had never considered the connection before. I suppose men of culture are also men of the world, and men of the world believe salvation comes from the self."
It was easily missed, and even if seen, the expression crossing Edward's face would be inscrutable to all but the most empathic souls. Like a tendon, long out of place, snapping back into alignment; with it, relief and fresh pain. As quickly as it appeared, it faded beneath the veneer of polite interest.
"I must say, you are an enlightening man to converse with, Mr. Wells. I'm gladened you elected to join for a game. To further your point then, even if one were, with a stroke of luck and genius, to stumble upon the truth, there would be no way of identifying it when compared to other plausible but ultimately false interpretations?" It was a question unrelated to his own moment of private revelation, but still, one that held Edward's interest.
"Ms. Wood is a kind and un-self-serving soul. I have spoken with her on several occasions, much like we are now, although the body of my time in her company was spent investigating the matter that ended with Mr. Kowalsic. She is a friend."
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