Bomilcar sat with a bottle of wine and a light snack in the lounge, thinking about the events up to this point of the investigation. He knew he was missing things. He wasn't cut out for this type of thing, but he was far less cut out for quitting a task. So he let his mind struggle to figure out what he had learned. The most poignant bit of knowledge being that he was still alive. It wasn't surprising but he was glad he hadn't pissed of any Harkonnen enough to be murdered quite yet.

Genevieve enters into the lounge, possibly looking for some coffee or something to help keep her up. It was already going to be a long day in this city, and she needed the rush of the caffeine to make it thru the day. She did notice the gentlemen there, Bomilcar Thorvald, as she recalled and smiled.

"That sort of day, I see?" She said with a small smile. "Might not be a bad idea." Gene said sitting down, extending her hand. "Lady Genevieve Wallach. Pleasure to meet you, formally, Bomilcar Thorvald."

"Lady Wallach." He took the offered hand. "A glass?" he offered.

She smiled and sat down, reaching for it. "Probably not the best idea, seeing as it dehydrates you, but right now I think I could do with it." She looked at him, deeply reading his face and movements without really even appearing to do so. "I take it your investigations have required the need for that bottle, then?"

"Thoughts require it," he says. "Quiet them."

The image of those Fremen heads on display didn't go away with the drink though. Sure he'd killed people, sometimes people that probably didn't deserve it so much. But it was always for a purpose, and never cruel or used to send a message or quite possibly entirely unjustified.

She shakes her head and begins to sip that wine. "I can understand the sentiment." She sighs deeply, and sifts the wine a little to look at it. "Even if I've dealt with these sort of things all of my life, it never gets easier to deal with. I know the reputation of my House, and it's well earnt but..." She looks at him, staring him down for a few seconds longer, reading him deeply for such a casual glance. "...Well, those sort of feelings do tend to remind me that I have still have my humanity. At least take comfort in that thought."

She drinks deeply this time, enjoying more of the wine.

He nods at that. "Fought your house... frequently." He sips his wine a bit in thought.

He traces the line on his throat. "Wallach."

He then draws a line on his abdomen, presumably there was a scar there, underneath. "Wallach."

Next he draws a line along the inside of his leg where a well placed strike might have cut his femoral. "Wallach."

And finally he pats a spot on his ribs. "Wallach."

"Only ones I confirmed," he says at her. It wasn't clear if he was angry or not over them. He seemed so neutral and blasé about almost getting killed repeatedly.

She nodded and drank her wine. "Well, you needn't worry about me; I would not be who my House sends to come and attack you." Looking down the scars and smiled. "There's a whole song and dance we follow with it, after all. At least you managed to survive the attacks, assuming you weren't the main target, of course. If you were, we clearly need to improve ourselves." She was very blasé about the whole thing. After all, it's not like she was the one who ordered the hit; someone who didn't like him did.

"Glad you seem to understand that I had nothing to do with it. Most people tend to take such actions too personally. Understandably, of course, as it is your life we are trying to take."

"Not mine," he says with a shrug. "My siblings. Bodyguard."

He looks at her contemplatively, wondering about her own duties for her family if not an assassin herself. She carried a sword so he figured she must be some kind of fighter.

"Only blame the patron," he explains, then points to two of the different locations he indicated previously. "Same person."

"Well, I am sorry to hear that." She seemed genuine in her sympathy. "Hopefully you weren't close with your siblings." She smiled warmly at him. "Seems your siblings are good at angering the wrong people. I do hate that such things are constantly resorted to." She sipped her wine once more. "I assume there's a reason why you are bodyguarding your siblings, then?"

"Close with some." he says, clearing his throat and taking a sip. "Haven't lost any."

Perhaps she had assumed that they had been successfully killed. But Bom had been at this game for nearly 30 years. He was probably one of the biggest headaches to enemies of Thorvald, the way he tended to throw himself in the way of any and every blade intended for others.

As to why he was bodyguarding his siblings... that was a complex answer in some regards. But the simple one would suffice. "They piss people off. Piss me off too."

She stared and smiled at him. "Well, we'll keep trying our best to fulfill our contracts. It takes a man of great skill to best my family. Not unscathed, it appears, but you still have your life still, and that is not a easy thing to keep when going against my House." She shakes her head and sips her wine. "My condolences are instead given to you for being forced to protect such thick-headed people. A shame you couldn't let one or two do the job; Maybe losing a sibling would make the others feel less invincible and more cautious. The fear of death does wonders for people who don't have the proper survival skills."

Gene gave him a glance over. "My own family causes me stress as well, sometimes. Lots of questionable decisions made by them."

He nods at that, somewhat ruefully. "Like sending here. Wanna get me killed," he says. Which would seem odd, that the people he works so hard for and sacrifices his body to protect would send him into the Harkonnen's den.

"Stress doesn't show," he says with a slight smile, finally for the first time. Though the smile is a small thing, she likely has noticed by now that he does not do so frequently and for no reason. "Look confident, in control."

"I was taught from a early age the techniques of the Bene Gesserit; if you were to catch anything I didn't want you to, I would be more the failure among them than I already am." Gene nodded and sipped her drink. "Not exactly hard to find this about me, but I could never get the fighting style of them down to a satisfactory level to join their ranks as I was supposed to. I can move as they do, but I lack the proper technique to really fight as they do." She chuckles and drinks more of her wine. "Bright side is at least I get to keep my hair."

She grabs her blonde hair a little and chuckles. "Rather fond it, to be honest."

He nods at that. "Shame to lose such," he agrees.

"Quite beautiful."

As for the explanation of her not joining the Bene Gesserit, he shrugs. "If you're happy."

She smiles at Bomilcar at his compliment. "You're quite the charmer, Bomilcar. And I am quite content with it, for the good and the ill it has brought me. My sister took to it in my stead; has done rather well there, to my understanding. Though, I would dare not say that my time there was not a waste, I have my uses in my House, as do you, despite your siblings lack of understanding of your diligence. If we do survive this, perhaps a different plan should be in place for what you do next."

She smiled at him and finished her wine.

"Siblings suck. But close with father," he replied.

He looks to her empty glass.

"Another? Something extra?" he asks, clearly referring to spice.

"They do,, although mine at least don't try to kill me. Could if they tried; each are formidable opponents."

She looked to him, curious as to what he was offering. "Sounds tempting enough to try. Can't say I done it before with wine."

He had, however, enjoyed spiced wine before. It did not take much and if this was as pure as he suspected, it would take even less. Pulling out a small packet, he put a conservative amount of the spice into the glasses before pouring the wine. He hands hers back and smiles before taking a sip.

Even this small a dose eased the pain in his cords and larynx almost momentarily, like the best of painkillers, but without the dizziness. Quite the opposite, he could feel immediately refreshed, as if after a restful sleep. There was some sharpening to his smell and taste as well, being able to tell apart the tones in his wine.

Gene smiled and took the glass. Well, she was already exposed to it a little. Why not a little bit more. She drank the mixed wine with a small gulp at first before placing it down.

Genevieve Wallach wrote: ↑

Wed Sep 08, 2021 7:30 pm

Gene smiled and took the glass. Well, she was already exposed to it a little. Why not a little bit more. She drank the mixed wine with a small gulp at first before placing it down.

He has Corrino blood. Those smug eyes, just like Elrood's. A random thought appeared in her as she let spiced wine in, not of her own authorship as she had never seen Elrood IX. But somehow she felt it was still true. Bomilcar was a Corrino offshoot by some cosangunity. Perhaps nothing too mysterious, his genealogy was analysable, except it hadn't occurred to her before to do it. It was odd, to have a factual reflection that was definitely someone else's.

Feeling the pleasantness wash over him, he leaned his head back and looked to the ceiling. Then took another drink to strengthen the effect. "I... find it easier to speak like this. But I will suffer for it later. The pain subsides, but the damage does not go away," he explains. Without the suffering that went along with talking his voice was much more pleasant, much less strained. But spice was not a regular thing, and the ability to talk easily was not something that he desired greatly so it did not feed into addiction. He was happy being terse.

She managed to keep her eyes calm as the information rushed into her head. It was...quite the rush. Information passing thru her like nothing. No wonder this place was so...tempting to stay in, despite the rather uncomfortable nature of it. "You do seem much more calm after ingesting the product. Suppose that and the alcohol are quite appealing." She smiled and looked at him. "So, you're a bastard, then?" She said with a knowing smile. "That does explain a few things about your treatment."

"I am. And I have blood that many would deem dangerous. It does not help that I am given the right to carry the name even if not legally recognized. Some close enough to the house sometimes carry the name as a reward for service. Though the records are kept meticulous to ensure there is no mistake about who is an actual inheritor. I have earned the name that my siblings were given. And that is all I ever wanted to do," he explained. He couldn't feel the slight blood drip in his throat but he knew that it was starting or would be soon.