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Seifer Almasy      Lolorito Nanarito does not care for extravagance.

     It is not that he is not extravagant. On the contrary, the office is decorated with extraordinarily expensive fineries - jeweled figures sculpted by artisans, little walking dolls that look like wind-up figures, elegantly-woven drapes, a rug that obviously costs more than most people will ever see. The view is extravagance unto itself, looking out over the streets of Ul'dah, at the glittering domes of its towers, peeing down from on high.

     But those aren't things he *cares* about. They aren't custom-made works of art. They aren't things he commissioned personally. They're...obligations. 'This is what you do to show people you are rich - you buy a lot of things that they want, things that go for very high prices.' If someone spilled coffee on that rug he would only care enough to make them pay for it. There would be no howling of fury if the curtains were ripped, no angered growling if the walking dolls were damaged. If the cups were stolen he would only pursue a brutal and swift vengeance because it's the other obligation of business: showing that you've got authority.

     Lolorito Nanarito has authority.

     Without a doubt Lolorito Nanarito is the most important person in Ul'dah. Raubahn Aldynn may command the military core; Dewlala Dewla may hold power over contracts; Teledji Adeledji and Gobert Manderville may have exclusive clubs where whispers spill like wine.

     None of them hold a candle to Lolorito.

     He is the head of the East Aldenard Trading Company - the most powerful trading company in the world. He owns Sunsilk Tapestries - the makers of the finest clothes in the Realm. He owns Eshtaime's Aesthetics - the peak of Eorzean jewelcraft. The man owns the trade routes the rich use and the fashions they wear.

     He has well earned that title 'Lord.'

     And he is about three feet tall, dark-skinned, with a blonde moustache-and-chinbeard, beautiful white desert fashion, several bits of understated gold jewelry, and a black mask over his eyes.

     He is sitting behind and on the only objects in the entire spacious office that he obviously cares about.

     The desk itself is obscenely expensive. It *has* been custom-made. It is beautifully-crafted to the point of obsession, each whorl in its elegant pattern hand-carved with unbelievable precision for human(oid) hands. Carved into the front of the desk is a crescent moon symbol surrounded by a wealth of arcing, elegant lines. This is a thing that was made *for Lolorito*, not a thing he purchased - he either for certain paid someone a very large amount of money to make this *specifically* for him, or he received it as a gift from a very ardent admirer-slash-suckup.

     The chair, meanwhile, is several times bigger than he is. Were it not for the enormous presence Lolorito exudes, it would be comical to see him up against the high wooden back. To see him pressed up against the massive gold cushions. It, too, is obviously made for him. It is the color of money, not for some silly reason like 'it's the only thing I love', but to remind people who are looking right at him of exactly who he is. He is the man who makes the money.

     Lolorito does indeed exude an amazing sense of presence. He is not like Teledji Adeledji, the producer waving his arms and making a big show of things, nor is he like Raubahn, the soft-spoken gladiator and general whose mere size makes an impression. No, Lolorito's presence is the sort of presence you can only get from supreme, well-earned confidence - confidence in your ability to control any outcome.

     So when Lilian is brought in and introduced by a tall man in an expensive tuxedo, Lolorito waves the man out of the room without a word. He gestures for Lilian to sit down in a chair in front of him, itself extravagant and ludicrously comfortable, folds his hands together on the desk, and says, very simply:

     "Let's get to business."
Lilian Rook     It is a contrast that Lilian barely cares to grasp, yet still finds some dry, cold entertainment in, that she go through the motions that neither one of them particularly care for, yet one must be expected to and the other expects to spite in the near future. It is another that the man she meets, small as he is but undeniable the word, is surrounded by luxuries and fineries he cares almost nothing for, save for the one between them, and she herself has come draped in those pragmatically, academically, mechanically chosen for the occasion, and but two small things that she holds to herself with immense value and pride.

    Lilian enters the office in her favourite colours of raven black, wrapped around her in an exceedingly western and exceedingly old type of summer dress, escalated to a high art of layered angles and cuts, and emerald greens and golds slashed through it for prideful emphasis; the waist, the glimpses of the innermost layer of skirt, the low neck, the window of back. She's done her hair up in half an hour's work of celtic knots and fastened it with the elaborate orichalcum and jeweled peony comb, and the baroque white-gold lily pin offset. The 'mere' gold and diamond bracelets and earrings are especially understated in comparison. There is no necklace, before that space is reserved for the black lace choker and its glassy, jewel-esque smart mount, and the uncanny fine chain of magnetite that vanishes below.

    She takes the seat as if it is hers. It *is* hers. Not 'provided' to her; it's Hers. She folds one leg over the other, laces her fingers over her knee, reclines, and flashes the man of massive influence a snow white smile that would be pleasing were she some businessman's secretary or messenger, but is here instead matched by a grass-green stare that replies 'let's not fuck about', in silent, shared, discordial understanding, where it won't be heard or acknowledged outside of that exchange of eyes.

    "Indeed. There'd be little point to going through all this trouble otherwise." replies Lilian, not scraping to pretend she's grateful for even the time of day here. "Wise of you to entertain as it is." The purpose of that sentence is less sure. It's a foggy thing to read into, chasing verbal shapes. The feeling of Presence she radiates is genuinely uncanny, easily filling her half of the office with the tangible touch of omen and portent. The next thing she says is without prelude; she names a moderately disgusting amount of gil on the spot. Not something truly staggering to a merchant of such obscene wealth as Lolorito, but something that a random outsider should not possibly have without his knowledge. An amount of money that couldn't be moved into the city, through any exchange, without him and his many, many fingers being alerted to. It comes with a wad of local holdings certificates.

    "This is the capital with which I'm going to buy several small businesses within this city. You're going to know about it either way, I'm certain. So, I'd like to clear things up. I've taken measure of your Syndicate. Of Ul'dah's businesses. Its war. Its politics. Of irons in fires and who they belong to. I've tested its waters, 'run my numbers' so to speak, and in the end, I've found it wanting. I know what purpose this city serves, and I've seen its weakest links for myself. Very, *weak*, links."
Lilian Rook     "I've seen how these politics play out. I've seen where this war goes. I've seen where those 'Warriors of Light' and their associated merry little idiots bandy about and what trouble they bring here. I've seen where the coin finally lands with the Sultancy. I'm not speaking of mere confidence and business sense; I mean it quite literally. I'll play no games with you; this is what I do." Next comes up a card that a man of means could easily check against the Multiversal brokerage database to confirm its details. A commonwealth-issued and approved classification a wealth bracket, exchange licenses, publicly declared assets, and most importantly, a subtle but extremely meaningful gesture by way that it declares particular Commonwealth restrictions for certain classes of Powered financiers; in this class, someone with verified, accurate divination abilities.

    Literally, she slaps her credentials down on the table as 'someone who has openly declared verified and highly successful futuresight abilities to a major Multiversal national collective, which has accordingly restricted her from particular exploitative penny ante stock exchange affairs, and moved her to Elite-class volatiles and restricted projections and portfolios. The biggest 'generally credible' organization in the sector, by virtue of her employment in the Paladins, has her back on outright stating she throws around money in an overwhelmingly different fashion than the merchants here. She has no fear of showing this off whatsoever. In fact, it is an obvious, subtle gesture he's meant to understand beyond the trite bounds of only money.

    "There's a great deal of promise in Ul'dah; enough that I admit it's caught my eye, and I'd be loathsomely remiss in passing it by out of some misplaced fear of 'adventuring' sort. And there are people squandering it. Those weak links in the chain that are *going* to bring it down. I assume a man such as yourself believes in a free marketplace of ideas, yes? The survival of the fittest and the hierarchy of those who can and those who cannot. I assume a man such as yourself believes that his number should only be populated by the strongest -- that he deserves to sit amongst only titans. And I assume a man such as yourself knows what would happen when the war goes exactly how it shouldn't, and the Scions stick their noses into it exactly how they would."

    "So . . ." she says, leaning forward in her seat. "What I'm saying is that I assume a man such as yourself should have no problem were I to buy out a certain small mining subsidiary, a certain privately owned import and exchange office, a certain family-stake metalworking business, and a number of associated, unincorporated name sundries, to begin some 'corrective measures'. I'd like to demonstrate exactly what I mean. And I'd like it very much if, as these weak links are exposed, you were to engage in your role as chief influencer within Ul'dah and have them expunged in a timely fashion, to expedite this work. After all, if I were to be wrong, or fail to meet exactly what I've claimed I intend to do, the no-holds-barred market of ideas that is Ul'dah should weed it out completely, shouldn't it? Whether your capital is involved or not is your own choice; I'd accept it at any time, of course."
Seifer Almasy      It's hard to read Lolorito. Not surprising; the man's built up 'being unreadable' over the course of his life as an art form. The other members of the Syndicate wear their hearts on their sleeve and have all the discipline one might expect of rich people who are rich because they are backstabbing and conniving, people who are convinced of their own superiority. Raubahn is the only one of them with mental fortitude but he is *not* a politician - he's a soldier. His mental fortitude is that of a warrior, not a man with money.

     So when Lolorito's head tips down slightly, watching Lilian sit, it's hard to say what he's thinking, even with Lilian's skill. Logically it would probably be some form of acknowledgment and interest - here is a man who, as near as Lilian can figure, has made that exact sort of 'it's mine because I'm here' attitude his own, and has probably met few other people in his life who can do the same.

     "I make it my business to seize on opportunity," Lolorito says as she tells him it's wise of him to entertain it. She drops the number on the table. To his credit, he neither blanches nor shakes nor says anything stupid; Lolorito simply watches her as she lays out her plan behind that black-visored gaze. He interjects only a few thoughts at strategic intervals rather than disrupting her, likely a mixture of being a man to who treats words as coin - he spends sparingly save for obligation, and only where he can make it count.

     As she tells him she's seen how those politics play out, he says, "Yes, I have heard as much."

     She brings up the free market place of ideas, to which he simply nods, with a "Something of the sort." Cagey enough not to put the whole thing on the table, but an acknowledgment of a similar credo. Enough to keep cards close to the chest, enough to keep interest, enough to keep people on their feet.

     When she is finished, Lolorito's fingers arched above the desk. He does not tap it. He has no nervous tics. It's almost remarkable *how* still the little Lalafel is - it's like looking at a tan doll. The only sign that he's alive is that he's breathing.

     "I would be lying were I to say that I am not impressed."

     The Monetarist sits back in his chair. "You have, largely accurately, sussed out a great deal of my personality. I will assume that you have done a fair deal of research, which is a further point in your favor. I abhor those who come into this office with vague and empty promises, uncertain of what or who they are dealing with. It happens far too often for my liking."

     "Then again, I imagine they have a similar idiom where you are from - 'Fortunes fall when fools dream tall.'" It's obviously a variant of 'a fool and his money.'

     "It tempers my irritation."

     Lolorito drums his fingers against his belly. He's an old man for sure - seeing him sit back like that, Lilian might guess he's in his mid-sixties. Even accounting for the ages of other species, he's got decades of experience most people in his position do not. An old spider in excellent shape. A blade grown sharper with the passage of time.

     "I agree, broadly, with your proposal. But I have one of my own."
Seifer Almasy      "The East Aldenard Trading Company does business across not only Eorzea, but Garlemald and Othard. I won't insult you by stating the obvious implications of that." He taps his finger against his belly. "But, as the Multiverse takes a greater interest in the Garlean war - I am given to understand you have a Garlean amongst the Paladins yourselves, and one representing Lord Regula von Hydrus, and the Warriors of Light sit aligned elsewhere - I expect to see a substantial loss of both profit and power in these regions. Heroes are destabilizing, after all."

     "Therefore my counter-offer is this."

     Lolorito sits forward. "I am willing to assist you in the manner you have already offered up - the mere exposing of weak links will bring sandworms to the blood. But I would be a fool not to notice that you, also, profit from Ul'Dah's future."

     "This is excellent. A business deal ought always have profit on both sides."

     "What I want in my part is stability, Miss Rook. I would like the Paladins' aid securing Multiversal shipping lanes, with Paladin guarantees on Multiversal products flowing primarily through the East Aldenard Shipping Company. As your Mr. Stark has already observed, people will pay a great deal for novelty and convenience."

     Lolorito taps the desk once for effect. "Should I be the one holding that thread, it will enable me to ensure a great deal more stability come the inevitable chaos that results in your three great factions involving themselves in our Eorzean conflicts." It would also be a means by which Lolorito might leverage his own influence over Paladins affairs in the region - providing local funding for local outposts and making it clear that Lolorito is the middle-man through which all the politics flow. "It may also be an avenue to regional stability. Garlemald will pay through the nose for your technology. Othard will pay for support. And Eorzea will pay for whatever it is offered."

     "Is this an acceptable counter-offer, Miss Rook? I feel it is important that we both profit in what I imagine is going to be a long-term relationship, and I believe that we both stand to profit a great deal from all sides of this arrangement."
Lilian Rook     "I'll admit to being pleasantly surprised." says Lilian. At first, it's a little enigmatic. A vague, appraising smile. A tiny, private amusement. But she elaborates on it -- partially, at least. "I'd certainly heard much about you. Done my research, of course. But there's only so much that a man's reputation reveals. Especially one who is both capable of engineering his, and smart enough to do so. I'm already glad we could have this little talk. You've exceeded my expectations, given the other sorts I've had to deal with within the Syndicate so far. It's no surprise to me now why you have the seat that you do amongst them."

    Lilian uncrosses her knees, then switches the other back over, tapping two fingertips together in thought that is not completely affected. "Looking to use a near-monopoly position to outlet goods that people are inevitably going to want, rather than bogart them from the competition or lobby them out of the country. Understandable. Sensible, even. Risky, perhaps an aggressive strategy, but the kind available only to the strong. The people who stay in power instead of rotting away on a heap of useless money."

    "Of course I can't speak for the Paladins as a whole. Nor is the Paladins primarily a trade organization. However, it is also not a monolith. The individual agency afforded to its elite is the kind that is rarely ever utilized to the fullest, or even half so, by most of its constituents. I can straight away that I know exactly who amongst them to tap, and where to pull a few strings for something to this effect."

    "Through these businesses that will soon be mine, I am going to be purchasing quantities of certain off-world resources through 'friendly connections' at considerable mark-down, for the use of developing certain products and advantages in production inside of these privately owned ventures, in an above board fashion." she continues, carefully selecting words, but out of sheer precision rather than caution. "These businesses will retain intellectual and proprietary ownership of these ventures. However, they may also sign an exclusivity of trade and distribution agreement with the East Aldenard Trading Company, such that a Paladins owned, local venture within Ul'dah, sourcing materials that just happen to come from other Paladins, is shipped and distributed through, of course, the largest and most attractive trading network in Eorzea 'and others'."

    "Considering the extremely 'competitive' price I can source these, for means of preexisting favours and connections that lie outside the scope and purview of any of this, it is then well within my means to sell in bulk to the East Aldenard Trading Company at cost that should easily render a very significant profit at their end destination; there need be no royalties or percentages involved; the company may purchase these wares on an exclusivity basis, and I trust your own expertise to turn them around for as much gil as you care to make. No other trading company will be afforded this agreement. I've no need to own a distributor myself, for what I intend."

    "Any other sale will exist solely in the local sense; that is, certain businesses I will own will distribute these imports within Ul'dah itself, at margins to generate profit, and the East Aldenard Trading Company will be their sole source outside of the city itself, given its considerable reach and transportation capacities."

    Lilian's smile turns a little sly. "Mister Stark is a personal associate of mine, of course. Amongst others. I suspect you shouldn't be disappointed in what I'll be showing you, shortly enough."
Seifer Almasy      Lolorito is a man who plays his emotions *remarkably* close to the chest. In a world whose first impressions are 'The Warriors of Light,' 'Teledji Adeledji,' and 'Raubahn Aldynn,' in a world of heat and sand and passionate warriors, Lolorito is a glacier. The smile he slips is as calculated as her own - designed to give a response. A 'yes, this is acceptable' smile, a smile of someone passing a test. Of course it's a test. Business is a test. It's always a test.

     "This is acceptable, Miss Rook."

     "I have already heard from a number of people about the remarkable metals Mister Stark can offer. I am more interested in foundational equipment first." He taps his finger against the table.

     "My first orders will be repairmen, craftsmen, and teachers - privately contracted to the East Aldernard Trading Company. I hope that either you or some of your allies can provide." He's smarter than Teledji by a country mile. Not blinded by greed, not willing to take advanced products into a world that can't support them. A willingness to do business, but not to let his profits get locked into a situation where others can control them. "I understand you have access to unique forms of magic and magitech, as well, which may be more immediately palatable to the people - Garlean technology leaves a poor taste in the mouths of the common man at the moment. So my second order will be that, with intent to phase it out once my own technicians are operational."

     "I am telling you this so that you understand exactly where I stand, and because, frankly, you are someone who would go fishing around for my agenda the moment such an order came in, so I see little point in hiding it or playing coy with you. Further, I am telling you this so that you understand something vital about me, vital to doing business with me, something I have no doubt you have not heard under the rumors, the reputation, the slander, and the half-truths."

     "I do not welch on a contract, Miss Rook." Lolorito stares at her from behind the black mask. "Regardless of whether it may be more profitable to do so. I intend fully to do business with you even once my own operations are set up, under the terms we have established here and now."

     "I have no interest in exposing my back. But nor do I have interest in planting a knife in yours." He smiles, a thin smile that bends his moustache upwards. "However, I do have a vested interest in being able to contract out Aldenard Repair Services to those who will undoubtedly require them."

     "I look forward to working with you further, Miss Rook."
Lilian Rook     Lilian begins to laugh. Slowly. Quietly. But it's a pleased sort of laugh. Someone who is distantly delighted that someone else has deduced their way to something that she would have otherwise had to explain. "I'm familiar with the concept. You're ahead of your time, Mister Nanarito. The handy term that I personally prefer, for the sake of efficient communication is 'Install Base'; and I see no reason not to get a head start on one. A closed market ecosystem can only be beneficial to the goal of proliferation of Garlean alternative, and perhaps even Garlaen-obsoleting, innovations. For the public benefit and advancement, of course."

    "I can find you who you're looking for. I don't personally employ any, so it'll be up to you to negotiate terms of contract with them and provide suitable incentive and compensation. I'm sure you're up to a task like that, of course, so I'll say little of it. I can't promise that every single thing that changes hands will be an open book, given some of the proprietary methods and trade secrets that may be involved -- I can't promise to give away other people's secret blends of herbs and spices, you know? -- but outside of the core means of production itself, means of fitting, distribution, maintenance, repair, alteration, and all of those trade and consumer-end issues shouldn't be a problem. In fact, it'd help tremendously if the Aldenard Company could take care of that busywork on its own, without micromanagement."

    "Would you find it acceptable if I were to pass you a personnel dossier -- personally curated, of course -- for your perusal, say, within the lunar cycle?" 'Month' is just sort of awkward to use given the current timing, but it also feels a little bit old-fashioned as well. "Otherwise, I'm glad to hear it. Not to sound any shade of threatening, but I expect more than a few to brandish knives in my direction, because that's what animals do when they're cornered. Dealing with those is what eradicating the weak links will no doubt come down to, on more than one occasion." She laces her fingers under her chin for a moment of meaningful contemplation. "Of course, I have full *faith* in Ul'dah's private guard companies. I'll be making the rounds to give my greetings to them as well."

    Lilian leans back again. Back to reclining. Back to smiling. "How expedient though~! Excellent, even~! I'm happy I chose to set aside the time; it seems we see eye to eye in this regard. I trust there's no need to expound on this to 'anyone else', so I won't belabour the point. I'm certain your subordinates will be passing the relevant deeds and notices over your lovely desk, once my purchases occur, as a matter of standard for a savvy businessman. Please give me the name of your preferred liaison and I'll pass the documentation through them when I have it~"