Stories about the city in the song
It's not Istanbul. It's Constantinople
So the good news is that there's a place for us once we land. In the appropriately named Helenianae, my...apparently my niece Athanasia has a few places. One thing that was odd was the city gates are like a bank vault. It was odd and a bit painful, as my ears were waiting for the invention of WD40. A lot. Fortunately, it was early enough that I could go spend a few coins on some silk for the ladies and then maybe later we'll have something for a dress. Either way, Helena is continuing her confusing ways; on the one hand she's being a little protective of me. On thew other hand, it feels like she's kicking me to the curb and I really haven't needed or really wanted to have someones' approval, or desire, for a long time. So this is awkward and confusing on several levels. Athanasia is certainly sympathetic, but at the same time there's not much anyone can do - it's not easy for me to sack up against Helena, so it's almost like...waiting for her to leave. Or I could have a mild fit. But at some point I have to be more. Whether that's through a spectacular act of independence, or a spectacular act of obeisance is entirely unknown.
Speaking of mild fits, Petronius the Arbiter and I had a meeting of the minds. Well, it was more along the lines of "where's your sire" and "no stealing". I had to tapdance a little because I didn't really want to get Helena in a crack, but eventually Petronius grumped at me and I was a good little lad. And I did confirm that the theif of Golgotha would confine his theiving to Golgotha. Of course, I did also confirm I was staying for at least a bit. I do need to check on Corinth eventually, but first, bringing the people here to a nice little palazzo. This place...I could like it, but at the same time the house rules of Constantinople are odd. If you're family, you're rocking and rolling. If you're not, you are forfeit. As an example, I went house hunting and three...people were squatting in a place. They came at me and...well, they regretted their choice. Rapidly. The weird thing is that Helena was watching over me, somewhat. Which is pleasing and bothersome at the same time. However, I think she may be overwatching more, and there was a lengthy discussion while I was hunting the last interloper who was questioning life choices. On the one hand, if an enemy knows that something is a possibility, does that knowledge make them not attack or do they account for it and attack anyway? All of this was debated whilst I was...almost compelled to hunt down and kill all three, who were apparently serving some outsider in order to do...something. Of course they did discuss being avenged, but they're dead and I'm...I didn't need to kill them all. But sometimes Helena puts some kick into her voice and she gets what she wants. Some night I am going to ask her what she's training or guiding me toward.
And now for something completely different. My place is nice, near the docks, and getting redecorated; and more to the point - I'm becoming adopted, as it were. And then there are the dreams. Again, a side effect of being me is that I might be getting railed into an investigation. Essentially someone is actively working against the Dream of Constantinople. Of course, ask 3 people what the dream is, you're gonna get 5 answers minimum. Apparently I got drafted to find out who it is. So...now I'm spending time bending my skills with Auspex and I'm finding things out about people, but while there's a few slack jawed window lickers...nobody in the clan is actively working against it. Yet. So now to socialize with the others and get an answer and then...well...tell whoever needs to be told. But that said, while my clanmates are certainly not traitors, a few of them are...slackers. That said, my housewarming was a mild success; gifts were given, gifts were received, and some slaves came in and got to work. Thankfully I haven't been asked to sing.
Overall however, I'm working out my place in this, and really there's not much else I have happening except for making the place a nice place for when the rest of the crew gets here.
Pageant. Right.
So with more ships, comes time to gamble. And gamble big. So we loaded up all the ships in the fleet and engaged in what some would call piracy. Yep. I mean the target's worth it though; a years tribute from Egypt to Byzantium. Guarded by triremes, and...well, it was a prize. And damned if there's a lot of gold and fungible gems in the hold. Life is good...sort of. My soul seems to be getting...damaged. I'm not sure this time is built for this morality; maybe this is something else I need to talk to and have a long discussion about. It was easier back in the day, but at the same time I need to make efforts myself, one way or the other. I want so badly to be a good and moral person, and yet a lot of the time when it's critical...I come up short. And that's gonna be a problem.
But I digress. The sanctity of my soul must share space with current events - having secured the prize and, well, let's not kid ourselves tortured the shit out of some people and ensuring no witnesses, the next bit was getting everything offloaded and prepared for reshipping to my place where we can mint coins, jewelry, and bars to do business with. Damn. But while we're doing all that, the prize ship ran aground. Shit. And then it got iffy - we were doing a few things to transfer and I took a crew to check out a little camp.
It was not a little camp, it was the Pageant. Fuck. On the one hand, good stuff. On the other hand, shit oh fucking dear...it has been a year, and they're claiming me. It's not bad...in some ways. I mean...the days meld, really - Rambert's back and the Pageant has grown. It feels weird. I need to get out, but the pageant is resisting any attempts to get out - like some of my abilities don't work. On the one hand, the pageant is going in the same direction I am for now. On the other hand...will I care if the pageant goes its' own way?
But Astarte is smiling a bit and...well, she's not Helena, but she's got a look. The weirdest thing is that Rambert just shrugs and pines for some Asian hoochie. Seriously, I'm a fan of the Yung Hot Chik as much as any, but the brother is obsessed and it makes me wonder. But I digress, and find myself bemused that beautiful women appear to be a weakness of sorts. Oh woe is me.
The bad news is the Pageant gathered Artemecia back up and we appear to be rolling into the Crusades facefirst. Good and bad.
