The plan was simple. Listen to Koni-something and gather some sort of information on her. Kalil was lucky, all things considered. He could have ended up with a worse target than a quiet-looking German princess. He could bank on the likelihood that whoever she was going to talk to was hopefully not German. And so there he was, conspicuous turban and all, munching on a few Turkish delights while trying to key into another person’s conversation. The greetings so far were German but surely he could pick up a few words. Life decided he couldn’t have it too easy when suddenly-
“I see someone else here cannot stand this...fruit juice either.” Kalil glanced to his side to see a diminutive Eastern Occidental girl in a beautiful dress. A smirk on a pretty face, a welcome sight at any other time. He schooled his features as she continued.
“Back home in Russia, this would be regarded as barely worth of being called alcohol. I take it your homeland also prefers stronger beverages? But where are my manners? Valeriya Zhukova. A pleasure.”The merchant’s son inclined his head back, keeping his gaze levelled at emerald eyes. A polite smile crept on his face.
“Ms. Zhukova, this ‘grape juice’ as you call it, would insult every reputable distillery I knew in Dhaka. We prefer our alcohol clear and fiery where I come from.” He winked and nearly offered a hand but was quickly sidelined by-
“Sorry to intrude, but I couldn’t pass up a conversation so close to my heart,” Another Occidental popped out of nowhere once again. They were multiplying!
“When I heard you mention the poor selection,” The man nodded at Valeriya,
“I thought…What if we brewed our own? Oh, and the name’s Kiran Agnarsson, from Iceland.” Kalil kept his smile up and nodded to Kiran, laughing politely. How many people are going or hamper his stalking?
“I think the faculty would quickly disapprove of such a venture but I am good at hiding such things.” He gestured to the pipe clipped to his side.
“I know where to get privacy for forbidden ventures.” He let the insinuation hang in the air.
Kiran grinned at the easy agreement, and the offer to contribute.
“Marvelous. As for the faculty...Well, I, or someone else, could subtly ask around at the adults’ compound...I betcha some of them are suffering for a good drink as much as we are. Could even use their help for cover up. Or just keep it among the students, I’m fine with either. As long as who the source and dealers are is hidden it’ll probably work out.”Valeriya covered up an expression of mild surprise as someone she was more familiar with, if only by reputation, intruded on the conversation. Agnarsson, was it? The mobile suit inventor was something of an interest to her, if only because of his field of work. All other considerations aside, he was somewhat of a direct competitor to her own powered armor designs. In terms of reputation and competition, that was something she’d have to deal with eventually.
Still, it was something of a surprise she hadn’t encountered either of these gentlemen on the cruise over. For the duration of the previous month, Valeriya had been doing her best to blend in as an ordinary student while on the ship: socializing, establishing contacts, and working on her designs as best she could without a workshop. That, and getting other students into her bed, male and female alike. Not strictly within her mission parameters, but the fact of being independent without adult supervision for the first time plus teenage hormones meant that plenty of students on the ship had done the same. Of course, protection had been used. She’d been curious, not stupid.
“Already?” Valeriya quirked a brow in response to Kiran’s statement of privacy.
“I’m impressed. Still, I would not mind going along with this. The ship alone already lacked proper alcohol. I know little of brewing, but some research should fix that. It would be an interesting...side project.” That wasn’t a lie, either. While Valeriya wasn’t intending to get drunk, a shot of vodka or any other firewater to calm the nerves helped every once in a while. And alcohol on hand would be very helpful in plying other students for information or otherwise…
“I do know some of the how, at least for brennivín,” Kiran commented. He was also considering the cost of ingredients, whether it’d be suspicious to order them to be delivered at-bulk from the warehouse, and exactly how many stills they should set-up. He’d trust the Oriental fellow to handle the place and secrecy, while Valeriya was eager enough to refine the brewing so their product would be something worthwhile.
Kalil nodded along, keeping an ear still extended to listen to the conversation he was wanting to actually listen in on. He found it hard to pick out words in another language he was not fluent in. He decided he had some time, the night was young after all. A mercantile conversation like this one he could definitely chip in on.
“Start early enough and demand would be high. With the amount of teenagers here-” He gestured around the room with his sweet-filled hand
“- they would be salivating at the chance for a quick way to get drunk. I have methods to keep this discreet, so as to avoid alerting any do-gooders or other entrepreneurs. Quick and easy money could be earned for those willing.”His mind raced with possibilities already. They needed a brand, untraceable to themselves but recognisable as a way of advertisement. They had methods of production, they were all polymaths after all. Geniuses and prodigies willing to get money and booze. Method of transfer? Use of lockers, a new locker and combination released to the student populace by word of mouth. Weekly? Fortnightly? Who could be trusted? Kalil glanced around at his fellow schemers. You never knew when you would be roped into a bad business deal. He waved his hand in front of his face.
“Pah, but the night is young. And I did not get out of my father’s teachings just to waltz into another mercantile venture. This is school but we are at a party, we should relax, no?” His voice strained slightly at the mention of his father but he continued on. Best to divert conversation for now. He would continue but he felt another presence enter the conversation.
“Excuse me,” Another voice, this time in Latin, interjected itself. A finger was pointed towards Kalil’s sweet-filled hand. “I was looking to try some of those, but the kitchen ran out. May I have one?”
Before he could whirl around, another wild voice appeared then disappeared just as quick.
"Hm? They didn't run out, there's a lot of those jelly-things all over the hall."How many people would want to butt into the conversation? This was getting ridiculous. Kalil just stood there, darting his eyes between the Turkish sweets and the tan-skin girl now within the group.
Kiran raised an eyebrow at the intruder. Well, even if Gharbi hadn’t suggested they enjoy the festivities, this bafflingly forceful girl would have put an end to their previous conversation. It certainly couldn’t be true catering was so lacking - if one needed further evidence but their own eyes, a boy passing them by informed them that the unlikely scenario described by the girl was indeed untruthful. Then, she must have simply wished or needed to speak to Gharbi in particular. But why was the question. Kiran decided then and there that she, and perhaps some of the others as well, would require observation.
Nazca’s own forceful insertion into the conversation was hampered, but not thwarted by the unhelpful… help from the random passing student.
“False news. I will have to see it to believe it,” she replied, mostly to her target, rather than the passing man that was already long gone. She kept her hand out for a Turkish Delight. “May I?”
It would seem the tan-skinned girl had no shame. Nonetheless, she would force the conversation into Latin. Who spoke Chinese in the western hemisphere, anyway? Rude tourists?
The rudeness of the girl took him out of the atmosphere of the group and Kalil glanced around. Where was she? One second he had been hearing some far-off, vaguely familiar German nearby and now, nothing. He was supposed to take an easy stance but he could no
do anything if he did not know where she was. He appraised this new tan-girl, seeing a way out, switching to Latin for her sake.
“Ah but how rude of me to hoard the sweets like this.” He placed all of the sweets into the outstretched hand and mock-bowed.
“And thus the unknown lady has all the treasure I can give her. If I can be excused, I feel myself wanting to partake in a treat of my own.” He smiled, patting the pipe on his side.
“Ah, thank you.” Nazca graciously accepted the handful of sweets and proceeded to pop one in her mouth to enjoy on the spot. Yep, it was a Turkish Delight.
“Oh, but where are my manners? Nazca Whitehall. Sorry for the intrusion, consider it a favor owed,” she added, with a pleasant curtsy to accompany her apology, her eyes meeting Kalil’s, and then Valeriya and the Icelander. “Pleasant event, yes? Perhaps I can help you with that as a recompense?”
The Bengal pet smiled but shook his head.
“Indeed it is a pleasant event but no need for favours at all. I am Kalil Gharbi, these are my fellow alcoholics Mr. Agnarsson and Ms. Zhukova. Pleasure to meet you Ms. Whitehall. Now if you’ll excuse me, I will have to take myself to a more private venue to relieve my throat. Good doctor recommended the vapour to soothe it. I will meet you all soon.” He bowed curtly and made to step out of the circle.
Well, well. What had him in such a rush? Valeriya noted Kalil had been looking around the room for something during the latter bit of that conversation. Interesting. Something to keep an eye on him for now if she could, and a mental note for later.
The newcomer...well, wasn’t exactly a newcomer to her. Valeriya and Nazca had already met on the ship. But this was something of a surprise, as well. Back on the ship, Nazca had been largely stoic. Well, the girl still seemed rather unfazed in appearance. She’d certainly never been that forceful before.
“Oh, don’t worry. Nazca and I are already somewhat acquainted. We’ve met on the ship.” Valeriya waved Kalil off, occasionally tracking him from the corner of her eye as she nodded to Nazca.
“And how have you been, then?” She swapped to Latin, gesturing between the two still gathered with her.
“Nazca, Kiran. Kiran, Nazca. I’m somewhat acquainted with both your work in one fashion or another. Are you with each other’s?”Nazca immediately moved to intercept Kalil as he left. “Mr. Gharbi, Mr. Agnarsson, Valeriya. A pleasure. Now, that
is actually something I can help you with. You see, the cutting-edge doctors I know back in London recommend against ‘vapours’ to relieve the throat. In fact, throat lozenges are by far more effective.” She blocked his exit. “I must protest for your own health.”
The man sputtered, looking almost incredulous at the girl blocking his way. Alright. That did not go as planned. Time to bring the big guns. He leaned into Nazca, putting a hand on her shoulder as he did so, whispering in a low voice.
“Ah, I must admit, despite myself wont for company as well and beautiful as yourself Ms. Whitehall, I do need to excuse myself. I’m afraid it’s a need for relief that is the reason for my leave. I’ve found myself eating much too many sweets today and my stomach is floundering like a dying elephant.” Kalil leaned back and winked, making to step aside whilst turning around towards the other two, giving a short bow before turning to leave.
Kiran raised both brows at Nazca’s continued aggression. It was almost comedic, how she hounded Kalil, while he - for some unknown reason - desperately attempted to leave while making any kind of excuse he could seem to come up with. Kiran had no reason to force Kalil to stay here, and in a moment of sympathy attempted to maneuver himself in such a way that would prevent Nazca’s advance and possibly allow Kalil to escape. Meanwhile, he also picked up the previous thread of conversation offered by Valeriya.
“While I am familiar with yours as well, Valeriya, I cannot say the same for Nazca’s,” Kiran admitted, switching to Latin.
“However, if we are to discuss our projects, I suggest we sit down to dine,” Kiran pointedly waved the untouched plate of meat he’d been holding in his left hand for the duration of the conversation.
Nazca only responded once she was confident she had Kalil boxed in. “No. But it’s a good suggestion. Why don’t we all sit together and talk? And I’m sure we can find a solution for that throat problem, too.”
“Ah, let the poor man smoke if he would,” Kiran said.
“I’m sure he’ll return shortly in any case, and then you’ll have all the time you like to pursue him,” he attempted to placate the girl. Truthfully, if he were in Kalil’s place, he wouldn’t willingly go anywhere near such an unreasonable girl. Whether her motives were truly suspect or she simply lacked manners and possibly wished a more
personal engagement with Kalil, Kiran thought he owed some assistance to a would-be-ally.
Nazca just tilted her head, feigning ignorance. “You’ve eaten too many sweets, so you must partake in the vapors? The practice originated in my homeland, and it will ruin your life if taken in excess. I must protest.”
Valeriya just looked amused as Nazca desperately moved to keep Kalli ensnared for whatever reason. Well, all things considered, this worked just fine for her. So she’d go along with it.
“Of course. Dinner does look good.” The blonde Russian looked upon the various international cuisines with interest, especially the Oriental dishes.
“Let’s go find some seats, then.”Kalil watched this all unfold with a sort of gobsmacked expression on his face but at least gave a face of thanks to Kiran. Alright, why can’t people take the hint? Were all foreign women so infuriating?
He let out a breath and stepped backwards.
“I am going to leave to relieve myself in the men’s room, I will be back shortly. Thank you for your leave.” He quickly pivoted and nearly tripped on his own feet before hurrying out of there as much as his pride would allow him. That Nazca was someone to look out for. Now if only he could find his goal?
Nazca huffed as the Mughal man disappeared from view. She had come onto him hard, yes, but that was not a reaction she had expected at all. Was he just a pansy or was he hiding something? Probably the former, but duty meant she would have to continue investigating. Bluntly, if required.
“Well, that was a shame. Sorry, what was your name again, Mr. Icelandic?”
“That was eventful,” Kiran muttered to himself in his mother tongue. To Nazca, he replied in Latin,
“It’s Kiran, miss-in-heat,” tone amused as he gave her a pointed questioning look.
“Ah, but let’s take a seat,” he shook his head, an awkward smile still in place, as he proceeded to find them some empty seats. He’d intended to suggest they find some privacy upstairs, but with Nazca’s pugnacious advances, he preferred to remain in public, where it’d be easier to distract or elude her if needed. After he found an appropriate place, he set his plate down, laid his suitcase next to the chair, sat down, and proceeded to cut his meat into pieces.
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