[ P ] between the devil and the deep blue sea

It appears Savard’s decision to respond as he had was not well met. In fact, thanks to the way he chose to reproach Bastien, the amicable mood between them changed in an instant. In what seemed but a moment, a tension arose between the two colleagues, two rather drunk, ineloquent ones at that. And yet… the issue was one Savard felt quite serious about, and so did he. Bastien wanted a list of names, and Savard was tight-lipped. If he were sober, Savard would have had no shortage of options to explain away Bastien’s behavior. Maybe it was the liquor, maybe it was the embarrassment of the words he chose to speak, maybe it was something else. But in that moment, Savard had come just short of accusing the wolf of attempting to have former connections of his terminated, wolves that minded their own business, did what they had to do to get by. Savard was no judge of how a wolf should live their life… so why should anyone else get to play the part of jury? Of executioner? If Bastien’s association with Savard, and the parading of his pup in front of him like a sad little puppet was only a means for the wolf to give up the names of old allies… then maybe they were surely both agreed it ought to end here.

Or, at the end of the day, maybe this was all just one drunken miscommunication, something they’d both sleep off. It was clear, though, that Bastien had had enough of Savard. He couldn’t take the heat of Savard’s coldness towards him… and it was always those wolves who felt that way who had something to hide. After all, a drunken Savard thought to himself, why would he attempt to escape from then and there, if he didn’t have something to get back to? The older wolf felt that maybe… just maybe… Bastien had made a deal with someone, something, he ought not to have. Funny… how in chances of all chances… there was but one wolf that came to Savard’s mind who would pull something like that. Extortion wasn’t uncommon in Rionna… but what wolf came to mind who attempted to extort other wolves to do their dirty work, to get rid of wolves lesser than them, in exchange to be left alone? What wolf did that recently, to wolves that had only their freedom to lose? He might have been drunk… but he wouldn’t ever give his obsession up with that wolf.

Weighing his options of letting his wounded, possibly crooked associate go his way, or playing his last card of the evening, Savard watched for a moment as the seething Bastien stalked his way to the door, apparently too wounded and betrayed with a sense of integrity trumping over his paranoia to stay any longer. Was he desperate for me to feel a certain way about him, Savard angrily thought to himself, taking another aggressive swig from his drink. Did he look up to me or something, and I let him down because I wouldn’t let him abuse my contacts? Indecisiveness swirled like particles in the older wolf’s drink, whether to let Bastien walk away, or to try one last thing, equally desperate in its own right. To even speak the wolf’s name was bound to get attention beyond just him, if he had any attention left to give. But maybe… just maybe… it might resolve things, if Savard’s past situation, and Bastien’s current one, were one in the same. If it weren’t that… then they’d go their separate ways.

“Lieutenant Nicharion Valentine,” Savard bellowed out to him, “That's who you can have."

He was one great white paw out the door when Savard called out a name that brought to mind an encounter that still burned hot under his skin. The heat was more potent than the alcohol he'd been indulging all evening, and he took the moment to savor its memory on his tongue.

Bastien considered continuing on his way out but his curiosity and sudden, sobering interest were louder than the concentrated sensation of pain in his heart. Eejit, he heard it howl, Don't you ever learn? But how could he just walk away when such sweet irony was being offered up to him on a silver platter? It wouldn't be far-fetched to say that his decision to stay was motivated at least somewhat by Savard's uncharismatic reaction to his honesty but in no way that might benefit Savard, but mostly he was acting in his own self-interest. Revenge was not the furthest thing from his mind when Bastien sidled back to the bar and took a seat that was one removed from his colleague.

His face was composed into an impenetrable wall of ice with a hint of rage frozen in his cold red stare. It was ideal to keep up appearances if he wanted to squeeze as much information from Savard as possible. "What am I t' do with... Lieutenant Valentine?" That I haven't done already? How fortuitous of a coincidence that Savard's problem so happened to be the same man Bastien had thought of by his initial description? The man that was making waves in the Guild and, indeed, had trouble keeping his paws to himself. "An' 'ave ya reconsidered the price?" Moments ago Savard seemed wary about the cost of Bastien's service, which hadn't changed. Even (or as a result of being) drunk, he was stubborn and harder to shake off than a dog with a bone when it came to the future he wanted for Vela. Coupled with that delightfully flame-kissed memory imprinted into his skin and an all-too-fresh betrayal, Savard was going to have to start giving names separate of the one he wanted taken care of if they were to forge any sort of agreement tonight. Either way, Bastien was going to entertain the conversation until he'd drained it of all the information necessary to give him to gain an advantage in this war Savard was waging against Ser Valentine.

Call it high-functioning alcoholism but over-indulgence did not inhibit his ability to conspire the same way it affected his speech.

art by wisper & table by bunny

It appears that Savard’s bet paid off, as it got Bastien to pause dead in his tracks. Was it that easy, Savard thought to himself, just utter the one name he’d be willing to give up, and all of a sudden they were back in business? Wow… either these drinks were stronger than usual, or that was some luck. Like a demon, the beast slunk its way back in, seemingly satisfied with having something to go off of, that this affair of theirs wouldn’t be something he’d leave with empty handed. He spoke first, a questioned that seemed rhetorical at first. What was he to do with the Imperial? Well… he was the one who wanted names of those to… dispose of, right? But it appears that Savard hadn’t played his cards exactly right. He saw right through the play that Nicharion wasn’t an old connection he’d be willing to part with, no. He was a problem that needed dealing with. He was THE problem he had brought to his attention. Almost as if… he knew who that was. Savard himself may not have done the best of things in this discussion of theirs. But then again… neither did his associate. Savard had simply said that he could have Nicharion as his mark. After all, that’s all he wanted out of this relationship of theirs. He hadn’t disclosed the name of his problem, nor his associates. But Bastien chose to continue to flap his gums, asking him once more if he had reconsidered his offer. A slimy, lowly offer, reserved only for wolves without honor. Give up some of his connections, end lives without need, all because this so-called protective father felt some need to do right by his family. His kid, as he said, a kid that didn’t need to be pulled into this. But if that’s the way he wanted to live his life, he wasn’t thinking clearly, and he didn’t deserve her. He thought he had a plan? A way to make his life, and those of those he loved the most, better? Did he honestly believe doing the things he wanted to do would bring him any closer to safety? What a fool. Maybe Bastien was right after all, maybe they should go their separate ways. At Bastien’s request of having reconsidered his offer, Savard laughed to himself under his breath. “I gave you one connection, didn’t I,” Savard began, sarcastically, “and you wanted a connection, yet here you are asking me what to do with him? You wanted me to ask no questions, I thought, let you do as you wanted. And yet… it’s almost as if I didn’t give you a name at all. Funny… how you’d seem to know Nicharion is the rat I speak of and not a connection of mine… as if you hadn’t already met him. But I guess it makes sense… he talked about cleaning up the streets, and now, you do too.” Perhaps Bastien hadn’t heard the second part of his statement, given as he was already out the door. Or perhaps he hadn’t been listening so much as to the what, as to the who. Needless to say… Savard saw no point to hiding the charade anymore. He was so wounded by dishonesty and deceit as if they were shadows on den walls tormenting him? Fine, then let it be plainly obvious. But Savard wasn’t through. “Tell me, Bas,” he began, his tail twitching in a concealed fury, “about how many seconds did you take to think any of this through? Yeah… I heard your offer, and how generous you think you are for offering it twice. You think taking out whatever Guilder you can get the name of is gonna make you or your kid safer?” Savard leaned in, his rage starting to bubble sobriety out of his gullet, “I don’t give up my own. The wolves I know are honorable, solid, and I intend to protect their lives. I don’t keep the company you think I do… because the company I used to keep, they’re gone. Imperial roundups, infighting, emigration, whatever it is, things aren’t how and who they used to be. And since I got out, I don’t care very much to keep track of who is where, because it’s not my life anymore. The only wolves that kill shitty Guilders are other shitty Guilders, and it’s a life you don’t get out of, because it’s a life that’s not worth it. So instead of trying to pretend as if taking the lives of Guilders makes this world better for you and your kid, how about you shut up, and think if it were you I’d be asked to give up.” Perhaps that sort of honor had gone the bit of the wayside for their kind. Smugglers, mercenaries, harlots, and thieves… they used to shun the outside world. Now… they were selfish creatures. But unlike a lot of them that were out there, Bastien had something that tethered him to the world above. He had a kid who wasn’t in the game, and he didn’t see how his actions would do nothing but harm her. Deep down, his heart wasn’t really in getting out of this life. Maybe telling Bastien about his problem was perhaps the worst thing he could have done, now that it was clear one could not trust the other. Hell, why had he even bothered to trust a wolf like him, after everything that had happened? But it seems that with the times changing, Bastien was just like the rest of them, nothing but a sucker for Renown… and whatever else his connections might have to offer him. “I gave you a rat, and told you what he did,” an agitated Savard said, as he took his turn getting up from the table, “do to him what you wish, but keep it, and yourself, away from me.” Without another word, Savard got up, and done what Bastien should had done a moment before, and walked out the door. [Exit Savard]

everything he touched fell apart

code // art