Scene #1421:

Owner	Pose
Landon al Cid	Dinner at the al Cid family residence is always an interesting affair. The dining hall is vast, covered in art depicting numerous ancient events. From paintings of the War Of Light And Shadow to the defeat of Arlaus tav Sternn, murals fill the vaulting ceilings, interspersed with lights woven into the display for maximum coverage and minimal disruption. What isn't covered in murals is reinforced, bulletproof Ifriti glass, allowing a beautiful (but firmly safe) view of the city below. Expensive magical wiring and a clever Barrier setup further ensures the safety of the family behind the glass, protecting them from harmful spells as well as harmful weapons. And, at a moment's notice, the dining hall can be shut down and turned into the most secure location on Galianda, so it's one of the few places the al Cid family feels...safest. Judges from the King's group stand at attention at all exits, to complete the safety. In the center of the vast hall sits a massive table. It is, ordinarily, meant to seat the entire family - including its extended group. However, with the recent Extraversal Crisis, much of the family is currently busy. The Judges are running about trying to lock down protests, the trainees have been taking under some of the other Judges rather than Rycharde himself, and other such emergency measues are being enacted. Moreover, the al Cid sisters, and the Queen, are currently out in Leviathan, enjoying some sun and sea instead of the dreary mood of the palace. What that measures up to is that there are only four people in the room besides the bodyguards - Rycharde al Cid, Landon al Cid Cirra Constantine, and the maitre'd slash food taster. Nonetheless, the meal is up to its usual standards. Rycharde sits at the end of the table, a large slab of meat on his plate. He is currently carving into it with uncharacteristic gusto, presumably because there are only four people at the table and he trusts all of them with his life and secrets. "Marianna," he informs Landon and Cirra, an air of great conspiratoriality perched on his already deep and booming voice, "Is absolutely not to know that I had a second helping of this today. It is very important that you not tell her this." He chuckles and takes a bite. Landon smiles at his father, a bit distantly. Then he looks over at Cirra. Then he looks back at his father. "Yes, Father. We, ah, we won't say anything. Right, Cirra?"
Cirra Constantine	Cirra always eats very carefully, very deliberatly. She's allowed to take her meals with the family because whats a better gaurd then someone sitting next to you? Well, it changes the usual paradigm that an assin would look for anyways. "Of course not King Reycharde." she is however pretty formal at dinner, even if tonight it's a bit more...relaxed. The Judge glances up at Landon as she carefully cuts at a piece of her own meat. "I'm sure a little indulgence now and then won't hurt anything."
Landon al Cid	Landon looks conspicuously towards his plate at the moment as Cirra mentions that there's no harm in indulgence. Rycharde laughs, a big, booming, merry laugh that carries through the chamber, then cuts into the slab of meat and takes another bite. "Every so often, indulgence is good for you," Rycharde agrees, "Reminds us that life is worth living!" "Yes, Father," Landon replies over his own meal. He looks back at Cirra and mouths, 'he's in a good mood - should I just ask? How do I even start this?'
Cirra Constantine	Cirra looks back at Landon and shrugs. Reycharde isn't her father no mater how close she is to the family, he's her boss. She motions with one utensil for Landon to just try. "So long as your carefull not to over do it." She mentions, to which? Thats hard to say.
Landon al Cid	Rycharde chuckles. Landon deflates a bit, then looks over at his father. "Sir, I was hoping to talk to you about...erm, about courting, and-" "Ah, that's good. Take my advice, then? Decide to go after the Dolet girl?" Rycharde leans forward curiously. "It's a good match. We'd stand to gain a lot from that pairing. Besides, you like her, don't you?" "I do, but that's not what I was-" % "Good, good! It's always nice to start off a courtship with someone you like. I barely knew your mother, but I have it on good authority that your grandfather and grandmother were dear friends before their courtship, and-" Landon slumps a bit further into his chair. "Father?" Rycharde purses his lips. "Hm?" "I...was hoping that I might...marry someone closer to home." Rycharde is not stupid. He knows his son. He raised this girl. His demeanor shifts immediately. He straightens a bit, the jovial, joking King Rycharde disappearing in an instant as he turns to look at Cirra, then back at Landon, then back at Cirra. "Is that so," the King asks quietly.
Cirra Constantine	Cirra knew she should have handled this, but she had to let Landon try at least. He needs to stand up for what he wants. "I was thinking of starting with a date, actually." Cirra says as shecontinues to cut up her food. "We've known each other for years, but we've never been able be anything other then friends, at most." she takes a slow bite of her steak and chews it carefully. "In public we're not even alowed that. I'm his bodygaurd. If we were...alowed to be a 'couple'..." She pauses as she thinks, "Well, I'd like that..."
Landon al Cid	Rycharde frowns slowly. "Would you?" He asks, his tone careful. Cirra is all too familiar with this Rycharde al Cid - the 'Ironclad Engine Of Justice' Landon refers to him as occasionally, because Landon is his son and also means it in the highest respect. His voice hardens, his eyes get steely, and he leans forward. "Tell me, Cirra. Why should I allow you to 'date' him instead of, say, Lady Dolet? Or Lady Hyral? With several of the old bloods scrabbling for power once again, we need every edge we can grab." "Dolet Corporation alone might be enough to avert this war." He sets his hand on the table and drums it slowly, still looking at Cirra. His face softens a bit as he looks over at Landon, then Cirra again. "It isn't that I don't wish that you could," he sighs, his voice heavy and his mien deep with lines and worry, "But these are...these circumstances..." "Harald is breathing down our necks. We need a strong marriage, a strong alliance, to scare him off - or at least make him think twice, and perhaps make it so that we can..." Landon looks down at the table. "...I would really..." His face goes red, "...very much like to date Cirra." Rycharde lets out an exasperated sigh and sets his palms on the table.
Cirra Constantine	Cirra is familiar with 'this' REycharde, it may be where she gets a lot of her own personality, wether through absourption or intentional emulation. As the King's voice hardens, Cirra carefully puts her utensils donw on the plate and takes the napkin to dab at her mouth. She sets it down. "Because it's what you want." She says coolly. "You say things like responsability, and circumstance." "But for years you've been trying to bring the idea to Ramuh that people are not divided by birth, by being nobel or commoner. That people are free to advance. You didn't do this just for the commoner though. You did it for him. For his sisters so they could be free of these rigors." "And to make matters worse, it was you that taught me to love your son. But cut it off at being in love with him." She looks up at Reycharde with ice blue eyes. "Whats the point of granting the masses freedom to choose when the display you put on is that your own son cannot?"
Landon al Cid	"Sometimes, we make sacrifices for the people," Rycharde rebukes her firmly, though not cruelly, "Sometimes, we must give up that which we desire for the sake of the people. We must offer that up for the dream of the al Cid family - for the day in which all people /are/ truly equal, for the day in which the nobility is stripped of power and Ramuh becomes a true democracy, where all voices can be heard." "Your words ring with merit, though I fear that the timing may be disastrous. Our enemies within would turn on us, and our enemies without would take it as a sign of weakness. But.." Rycharde sighs and cuts another hunk of his meat. "I suppose that I cannot...truly deny the wisdom in what you say. Allow me to think on it for now." "That is not a /yes/," Rycharde adds, giving Cirra a long look, "It is an acknowledgment that you were very well-taught and are very good at wielding words against this old man." Rycharde smirks over at his son. "I wonder how much less trouble you'd be in if I'd taught you take a mistress." Landon's face takes on a horrified sort of red mixture as his eyes widen. He looks almost comical. Rycharde bursts out laughing. "Oh, stop. I wouldn't say something like that. I mean, I suppose once you become King, I won't be able to /stop/ you, but..." "F...Father, that's...that's highly...!" Rycharde's great, booming guffaw fills the room again. "He's much too easy," he confides in Cirra cheerily.
Cirra Constantine	"Hmn." Cirra allows herself a small smile. "He is." She picks up her glass as she agrees with Reycharde. "It makes him adorable." and takes a drink.
Landon al Cid	"I...I am...I am not..." Rycharde bursts into laughter again. "Come on, boy, there's maybe three women in the whole world who like you for you and not for your crown, at least accept that they find you attractive." He casts his big gaze back at Cirra a moment later. "Promise me something, Judge Constantine. If I tell you no - if I tell you that the political risks are simply too high at the moment, that they're too dangerous, that we need him to marry someone else - stick by him." "I know it will be brutal. I..." Rycharde sighs. "I had the same sort of relationship with my bodyguard. It's all so easy at first. Holding hands. Innocent smiles. Then hormones get involved, and you start throwing each other on the couch, and-" "Father!" Landon interjects sharply. "Bah, your mother's not here! Let me have some fun." Rycharde waves his hand dismissively. Then he goes back to serious again. "But I want you to promise me that you'll take care of my son, Cirra. You may not be my daughter, but I love you as if you were, and I don't want to imagine that this decision puts his life in danger. And nor do I think you are the type of woman to hold him hostage for my agreement." "Promise me that." Rycharde's face softens again, and his big, cheery grin perks up. "Of course, if you happen to have a child on the side once the succession's all settled, I certainly won't-" "/Father/!" Rycharde's uproarious laughter shakes the table again as he pounds his fist on the table merrily.
Cirra Constantine	This is the first cirra's heard of an affair between the King and his bodygaurd. It's enough of a revelation to give her pause for a moment. "Of course, your highness." "And I respect you far too much to intentionaly try and harm you." She stans up and walks to the head of the table. And only /only/ because very few people are around. Does she hug the big teddy bear of a man that is Reycharde. "Thank you... for at least considering it. I know I'm aksing a lot."
Landon al Cid	Rycharde has never, ever done that. Nor has his father. Nor his father before him. The al Cid family line is one founded on honor, after all. But he does dearly enjoy making fun of his son. The big man hugs her back in one arm. "I'm not old enough that you can keep up with me yet," he chuckles. "You're a daughter to me. And I know that you two are very close. It's not easy to spend time with someone of the opposite gender as constantly and intimately as a bodyguard and charge do. Feelings develop. They help in the line of duty. You're more likely to take a bullet for the man you love than the man who pays you." Rycharde heaves a sigh and rubs his face. "And if this war wasn't on...if we didn't have all the problems looming that we do, if we were in a period of real peace...I would've said yes in a heartbeat. I want you to know that." He rests his hand on Cirra's shoulder. "You'd make a fine Queen. You'd drag his fool head out of the clouds and thump him when things need to get done. Don't think I'm blind to your virtue." Landon sighs. He scratches the back of his head and looks over at Cirra and his father. "...apparently, Murasame has been courting the Dolet Corporation. Lady Dolet fears that if he managed to acquire Dolet Corp, Murasame could buy out Masoch, and then..." "And then the Zaibatsu would have too much power to stop," Rycharde grumbles. "...yes, sir. I thought it...was important for you to know. I was speaking with Lady Dolet recently about it." Landon shifts in his chair. "I'd been hoping to marry your oldest sister to her brother before the accident, too," Rycharde sighs. "Would've been a fine match." "Yes, sir." Landon agrees. "Well...damn." The King fiddles with the food on his plate, suddenly disinterested and irritated. "I suppose that means I had best figure out something to stop them." He stands and picks up his plate. "I'll be in my study if you need me." With that, Rycharde leaves, leaving Landon and Cirra alone except for the trusted guards. Landon looks over at her and tilts his head to the side. "Do you...want to sit next to me?"
Cirra Constantine	"I suspect waiting for a time when things are 'perfect' would never happen." Cirra says as Reycharde laments on the predicment again. "So we'll just have to solve our problems ourselves." She stands back and lets Reycharde go. "Starting with Dolet and Marasame." she nods, "Maybe theres another course of action we haven't considered yet." Cirra looks over to Landon as he asks that and smiles slightly, picking up her plate and moving over to sit next to Landon, "I'd like that."
Landon al Cid	Cirra's smile prompts an even wider one from Landon. As she sits next to him, he leans his head on her shoulder quietly. He hooks his arm around her shoulder, looking about as relaed as she's seen him since this whole mess started. He eats perhaps a bit lazily, using one hand for most of it; every so often he pops a bite into her mouth with the excuse of 'in case it's poisoned', a wide smile on his face. He eats in silence for a while, content just to be there. Eventually, he tilts his head enough to look at her. "...no matter what happens, you know you'll always be important to me, don't you?" Landon asks quietly. "That no matter who I wind up marrying, you'll always be my dearest and best friend and I'll always love you." "...and it says a very great deal that the only two women in all of Galianda I've even /thought/ about in this way look /so very much alike/," he teases a moment later, proving that he is in fact his father's son, no matter how tightly-coiled he may at times be, "It says that I have very good taste in women."
Cirra Constantine	Cirra is fed by Landon. "...There are still gaurds here." she objects mildly. "and the cook would be offended." The Cook. Even cirra doesn't mess with The Cook. But she smiles at Landon, "I know, no matter what happens, we can still have moments like this." Then Landon goes and says /that/. Don't get angry, don't get angry, dont get- Cirra turns her head away, "So you have a type that you prefer? And the other is Cassandra Dolet?"
Landon al Cid	The Cook is a fearsome man. It's said that he's not really a man at all, but rather some ancient Thing, some servant of the Divines who was around for the War Of Light And Shadow, who cooked so well that he was granted the right to keep cooking for all time and all space. It's whispered among the Palace that he holds the Job Crystal of Chef, and that no other Chefs have ever existed or will ever exist who are as good as he. It's ridiculous what people make up if a man looks intimidating enough. "We'll always have moments like this," Landon agrees, his hand moving for hers - just before she turns away. He always manages to make her angry! "If I have a /type/, it's 'women who look like Cirra Constantine,'" Landon protests, "And, yes, she happens to look a great deal like you, and I do find her very attractive! Is it suddenly a crime for me to have functioning hormones? I'm seventeen, Cirra! I fantasize! As if you don't find other men even slightly attractive? You've never looked at a single other person our age as attractive?"
Cirra Constantine	Landon manages to turn it around into a compliment, but Cirra doesn't turn around. She remains facing the other way, but her cheeks colour pink. "D-don't tell me that you fantasize." "I-I don't..." she turns even further away.
Landon al Cid	"I absolutely do," Landon replies firmly. She turns away, and he sighs and looks off to the side. "Some days I think I'm only capable of relaxing in my dreams. All the problems in the world today...all the...the things going wrong since the Extraverse appeared...the war, the constant backstabbing and political interplay...as much as I make it seem easy, it wears me to the bone, and only you and Cassie really understand that. Dominic may be involved but he's not subject to nearly what I am, and Kyra, Soan, and the others? They can't possibly know." "Murasame was lucky enough to find happiness, and then he lost it. I don't know what I'd do in the same situation, Cirra, and it scares me to think that it's a very real possibility that you might..." Landon looks up at the ceiling. "...That you might die protecting me. That you might vanish like Tira Hyral. I would turn into Murasame in a heartbeat. I would grow cold and terrible if we were lovers and you were lost to me. I would...Divines, Cirra, I don't know that I'd even be able to go on. It's a testament to his willpower that he can do what he does. To his strength of character." Landon slumps forward and rubs his temples. "You know the only times I ever feel relaxed? Alone with you, or alone with Cassandra, or in my dreams, where - I assure you - it is functionally the same situation. Any other dreams, any other thoughts, are of..." Landon crosses his arms under his chin and looks glumly out at the Ramuhan skyscape. "I don't even think I'm capable of relaxing outside my dreams, these days. I say something to ruin it, or my mind turns to the war. I mean, Murasame has been trying to acquire Dolet for years, but mentioning this takeover to Father has him nervous. What does that /mean/?" He pushes his face down against the table. "Some days I wish I could live like they do. Mess around. Date. Make mistakes that only affect me."
Cirra Constantine	As Landon talks, Cirra stands up from her seat. "/Landon/." she saystersely and turns on him quickly. And puts her hand on his head, "/Everyone/ makes mistakes that affect other people. If you start thinking that other people are free of the burden of responsability, you'll grow bitter and resentfull of them. Don't do that."
Landon al Cid	"It would be nice if I could make a few mistakes and enjoy myself without potentially bringing ruin on my whole family and an entire plate!" Landon counters from his place on the table, "So sue me that I occasionally dream about that, too. Is that so wrong?" He sighs and sits up, running his fingers through his hair. "I'm not resentful of those people, though," he murmurs, "I love my home. I love Ramuh. It's...sometimes it's taxing, and tiring, and...all sorts of painful, and it wears me to the core...but I love it. The people here deserve greatness. They deserve my family's dream." Landon stands up and wanders over to one of the massive windows, looking out at the city. Electricity crackles through the sky as neon lights race along, far below, like streams of glory and power. "The city is alive," Landon murmurs, "And I am the one who will eventually take care of it. I am willing to give up so much to protect it. To protect the people who make up its lifeblood. I cannot resent them. They can't..." Landon stares down at the city. "They can't possibly know what they mean to me."