Philanthropism (Hasre)

[Ifran]

48th Summer, 510 A.V. The summer sun was too punishing to walk out in the garden during the day, but Ifran liked to sit on a certain bench when night fell. The purple Eypharian marble exuded the day's heat in a gentler, more soothing manner than the hammer blows of white light. The lawns were damp, and the night-blooming flowers opening their petals to loose their heady perfumes upon the air. It was a quiet time but for the chirring of insects in the gloaming. In the dark, he needn't wear a mask. His clothes were a simple, unbleached linen sirwal and nothing on top. The air was warm enough that the populace of Ahnatep might have run naked as they day they were born, but there was still a semblance of propriety. It was mostly just a semblance. Ifran sighed.

[Hasre]

Hasre of the Northwind had also discovered the gardens to be a quiet place to sit and read. He had with him two scrolls, one with some work orders that he need to double check and another was a book handed him by one of librarians. It was a recent write up about Ahnatep history. He didn't imediately find some place to sit but instead walked gardens just enjoying the peace and tranquility. Few choose to uses the gardens at this time of day as most seemed to have other engagement out of the house. Hasre wasn't sure that he had seen any of his family in a couple days, except Grandfather of course, but that was different. The handsome bookworm, with his short cropt hair had also choosen the loose linen wrap as his clothing for the evening. He moved with a quiet footfall, not because of shyness or anything, but a trait he had picked up in both the library and around the paper makers. Neither like sudden noise. He paused though as he walked seeing his brother Ifran sitting quietly on a bench. His dark eyes looked at his brother, handsome and strong as himself. Many people had commented how their mother had born to handsome boys to their father, but truth be told. Hasre barely knew his brother. He paused for only a moment before walking over. "Do you mind if I join you?" He asked in a quiet steady voice.

[Ifran]

Ifran, with all his vocal training, had a good ear and recognized his brother's voice even in the darkness. They were brothers, but almost strangers in many ways. By the time Hasre was born, the first live birth after a few miscarriages and stillbirths, Ifran was already in the home stretch of his apprenticeship to Taharqa, out of the nest and in the world. After they met, Ifran was busy with his career in the arts. But if there were walls between them, there was still the blood and the name to act as bridges. A hand indicated the stretch of marble next to him. "Please," he said, his tone neutral though the mode implied welcome. "The gardens are most pleasant at night, I think.

[Hasre]

The dark blue eyes looked at the wave of the hand that invited him to join him. He did notice the neutral tone of voice, but that wasn't uncommon. The brothers weren't exactly close and so he hadn't expected to be greated with warmth and friendship. He was pleased though that he was invited to join his brother. He took a seat next to his brother on the bench two of his hands resting on the bench behind him as another carefully set the scrolls down next to him on the bench. He looked around the evening air blowing across his pale skin. He did enjoy the gardens at night and turned. His soft strong voice said. "I agree. These gardens are an escape from the hussel of the rest of palace." He allowed the scent of the evening flowers to fill his sences. "The true beauty comes out when Syna departs. One can enjoy the quiet and finally be able to think through the day, while surronded by beauty. To bad so few of the family has ever taken the time to find that out." He was surprised thought to find his brother here, they both were busy, but Ifran had always had a life outside the family and the complex that was the Northwind Palace. To think that they had both sought the quiet of the gardens in the evening.

[Ifran]

"Except grandfather," he offered. It was a hint and nothing more, but offered freely, which was strange for Eypharians of the upper crust. He had spoken to Sadiki in these very gardens late in the Spring, but he had kept it to himself. He was still going over in his head what had passed between them, trying to understand the situation in its entirety before acting upon it, if action was even necessary at this point. "Truly, the summer sun sheds too garish a light, but the night-blooming flowers are like hidden secrets." Even those of their Noble House with penetrating minds were often caught up in the aesthetics of things. He shifted, turning toward young Hasre, including him in his sphere of attention. "How does the library treat you, little brother?" he asked.

[Hasre]

His dark blue eyes glanced at his brother as he mentioned that their grandfather also visted the gardens. It was a subtle hint but one freely given. It makd Hasre wonder briefly if maybe Ifran hadn't meet with Grandfather here in the peaceful shade. He didn't say any thing back though just nodded his head in acknolwedgement of both the obvious meaning to the question, and the subtle one as well. This was a good place to speak with the head of their noble family. He turned just a bit to also include his brother in his field of attention. "Yes they are. They are a hidden beauty, safe from the dangerous of the sun." His blue eyes glanced away from the garden of flowers and back to his brother. "It treats me well. They are constantly in demand of our families wadj to write their books with. They never seem to have enought, but I have been able to find the balance between what they need and what they think they need." He said it mater of factly. He worked hard but he wasn't a peasent or an upstart who had to brag or try and prove himself. He knew who he was, and more importantly "How is life in the theater?" His soft voice asked.

[Ifran]

He snorted, an indelicate if telling response. "Life in the theater continues as it always has and likely always will: there exists more needless drama behind the scenes than on the stage. But my skills continue to improve, as well as my standing." That was about all the synopsis one needed without delving too deeply into the inanities of a theater company. If he wanted more than to be another artiste of the North Winds, he never let on, but even that circumspection might be an act. It was ever difficult to tell in the upper echelons of Ahnatep society. Plots within plots. "I suppose you are no longer in a position where creating the impression of a reduced supply to increase demand and, consequently, price in order to fill the family's coffers goes hand in hand with fulfilling the employment for which you are paid so handsomely..."

[Hasre]

Hasre smiled at his brothers question, not a friendly smile, or even a pleasent smile. One hand brushed a bug away as it buzzed to close, as his dark blue eyes took in his brother. "To some extent I can play with the supply for a higher demand and coin." He said with a raised eyebrow. "The balance I maintain is that careful one were I supply the library with what it needs but at a coast that makes it worth doing buisness with them." Again plots within plots. Even in the simple world of paper making was there ever the great game. Hasre had been raised as a much a member of the family as had anyone else. He played the games and many times with out even truely realising it. "I haven't seen any of your performances for a while for which I apologies. I have heard of your increased skill brother. Even the scroll worms at the library have mentioned you. What is your most currently production." He asked suddenly. "I understand the crowds can included some of the more interesting members of our city, and the drama in the auditorium is as bad as that back stage." Hasre wasn't inpressed by the other noble houses, they were Northwinders after all, the house that had put the queen on the throne. He did realizes though that they did plot, and places like the theater were excellent places for different people to meet together.

[Ifran]

"We are working in repertory, but the next performance is The Love-Suicides at Menehat," he informed him. It was an old classic, but most of the productions were old or, at the least, recycled themes. In a sense, Eypharian culture was much like the city of Ahnatep, full of ruined wonders that ignored the desert sands as best it could. "I recently neutralized a rival," he added after a moment, sharing a sliver of his satisfaction with the brother of his blood. "His assassin found me in my bed asleep, but I turned her. He left the theater, his hand shown. I will have to kill him soon, of course, but it will not be any great loss to the art."

[Hasre]

The young man had heard of the production before. While he hadn't ever seen it before, the classics were well known among all the nobles of the North Wind. He nodded his head and thought for a moment about the city mentioned in the title, Menehat. One of the lost cities of their race. Well not lost really burried really was the best way to describe it. His face contiuned to look out towards the night flowers as his brother spoke, but his dark eyes were looking sideways at his brother as he spoke of taking out a rival. A eyebrow slowlly raised and two more hands rested on the bench as he listened. A slow upturn of his lips began, and he gave only a brief nod. Yes that was the way to do it, the way of the Northwind. He then looked fully into his brothers face with grin approving. "Of course." He said with a nod. He didn't ask more know that if he wanted to tell more then he would. Some times it was best just not to know "I had a problem with one of the scribes at the library. He is convinced he can discover the secret to the wadj. What he doesn't realize is that I know what he is trying to do, and he is to niave to realizes he won't live to see it through." Hasre had made sure that the wadj that had been delivered to scribe was lassed with a special chemical. A vicious grin on his face spoke again. His voice still the same quiet scholarly voice he used normally. "Have you noticed that with the exclusion of grandfather, who of course has her majesties ear." There was respect for the old scoundral in Hasre's voice. "That none of our family seems concern with drawing royal attention, and favor." He suspected that his brother wasn't just an ideal side sitter. If he had enemies trying to kill him, then he could play the game.