The King Stay the King

BASSANIO

And I beseech you
Wrest once the law to your authority:
To do a great right, do a little wrong;
And curb this cruel devil of his will.

PORTIA

It must not be; there is no power in Venice
Can alter a decree established:
'Twill be recorded for a precedent;
And many an error, by the same example,
Will rush into the state: it cannot be.

There on the floor by the door and right away I knew, right away the empty feeling, sinking in the pit of my stomach. I had that premonition from the moment I got back / leaning down / bottling it up / telling you what needed to be said / do what has to be done / I'll live / there's time / someday / and sometimes I know ...

You can always tell a goodbye kiss.

So much to do: L / Striges / Eve / 1E / all of it, and you know what I want to do is just appoint Jack Daniels as Deputy Chancellor and lie here and remember you.

And no matter that it hurts still at the core of it is pride because it wasn't supposed to be possible but you did it, so strong, stronger than I ever was, and I'm so fucking proud of you.

Sitting here looking at her/you always used to say you and it looks like if I put out my hand it would touch smooth skin, soft hair

and I could live with that because there was vengeance and justice and the drive to do the right thing. But this is the right thing. And now we just have to survive our reward.

Ohhhh boy.

The usual.

First big team op: A coming on side, S independent, CT reliable, MJ not sure. D = WTF? J uncertain. AU good as far as he goes. Sort out Birmingham for the confidence boost. C inclined to take sides: control the terms of the debate to prevent possible appearance of bias.

The problem with deciding to do something *for* someone is that if you care enough about that person to do it for them, you probably don't think whatever you're doing is good enough.

Stupid stupid stupid letting the beast speak through me? Maybe that's what it was but I don't think it's separate like that. It was just the game, the facts and no more patience to bear their smug bullshit crying about how unfairly I treat the V. Not angry, just tired. Tired of pretending. T all mad but he can go cry; I can't always keep it up, can't always do that. They wanted me to *feel* -- well, what I feel is hate.

So I talk to the new guy and send the men off to deal with him and tomorrow I'll put on the pin like a talisman and go to talk to him, but for now the sun will find me hidden away. In your arms.

I have to be careful -- you're more than the one I turn to when being me gets to be too much for me, more than comfort. And yes, it is good: that you care for me not in spite of being the killer or because of being the killer, but just ... because. So, don't forget. Don't forget why it is. Make sure you know too. Next week, maybe.

Bad, oh bad, but God the rush. What if she knows? I mean, seemed to understand, but so dangerous, that feeling of power. Or maybe not -- maybe do it like that and it's a safety valve, won't do it for serious? I don't know.

Work -- good, pretty good, got the big night coming up, so have to make sure the floor is Hoovered and the punchbowl is full and all the announcements are made and so on. I just know some sissy is gonna complain about the blessing. More and more sick of these guys, like oh no that's dangerous! Open your eyes motherfucker -- what do you think we *are*? Only accept that shit from VM, she suffered for it, not in denial.

Doesn't stop her being a pain in the ass about it, though.

MB/Z -- what the hell?

And what is all this stuff about the Adversary? Everybody's the Adversary now. It's like Spartacus up in this motherfucker.

How weird that we're working together so well after a talk that *should* have torn us apart? Like the strain of keeping things mum so that we could get along was really getting in the way of us getting along.

- Some things you can't put down on paper even here where no one will ever see it.

- That said: feels good. Scary bad, but scary good, and just good to be trusted.

- Everything else = 2nd best but still to deal with

1) The airport. Good: they fall. Good: get to look good to guys like Thibs and Finn by passing on the word before anyone else. Bad: why wasn't I informed? C deliberately keeping shit from me? No. Mac? Maybe, just to make a point that sometimes I don't tell her shit she feels like she needs to know? Maybe and also maybe it's a fair point. Anyway, good now. Would have liked to be boots on the ground, I suppose, but then I guess that's what you get -- and I wouldn't have wanted to miss talking to V anyway, about which more in a moment.

2) Z. Stupid, and it would have been great if they'd ashed him, but I guess you can't hope for everything. Still, nothing to worry about now except keeping C on message. Call off your dogs and I'll call of mine: motherfucker you got no dogs any more.

3) M. Fuck me that was bad. Wish to fuck I had Mac's cold blood, because pretty sure everybody could see I was bricking it when that bitch walked into the room, and then the one-two punch: It's not her / oh OK / no actually it's HER instead / AAAAAAHHH EVEN WORSE

And Mac's gonna set up some kind of zoo for these people? Well, whatever, but I'd better start preparing to prove I didn't have shit to do with it.

4) A: finding a pair. But this clan shit is pure nonsense. Seriously, who even cares about that shit in real life; no one pays attention to it or enforces it because there's no need to, everyone gets on fine anyway. But hey, he should have some practice for brain work if he's going to do more important jobs, so let him do this one -- if he does good, good for him, and if he screws up, no big deal.

5) V.

I was a little worried about the gift -- too much? Too hokey? But I guess she liked it. Good. The way she came back in; sweetest I've ever seen her be with me in public. Sober at least. Not because of the value -- but I remembered. And part of me: how sad is that, how fucked up, that the idea that someone might care about you like that moves you like that? And part of me: glad, because the minimum level of tenderness toward someone else is about what I can aspire to. Not like I'm gonna be making her life so great.

Wanting to change the rules: interesting. Do I want to? I don't know. Maybe. But I hurt Ani so badly trying to be that guy, wishing I was him and then turning out just to be me. Being afraid she would never love the me guy. And now everything I want to say to her, everything I wish I could undo, knowing that even the Big Dramatic Gesture is blocked out by the work.

So, no rule: respect and trust. Respect I can do. I suspect the second part is going to be the challenge.

Quick:

G: ohhhh careful. Good kid though.

F: I guess we're about to see.

C/EM: Goddamnit why do I have to do everything around here.

V: ...

TF: Panicky but I don't blame her. Other thing nice.

NE G: twat.

MVD: Man, that's rare. Basically the dude I want to be but did he succeed where I failed or did he have more advantages like being her childe? Weird to feel so proud, not an instinct that I thought I had: this is the hand that's shaken the hand that's shaken the hand of the founder.

Man, this hosting shit though. Hurts. Tapped out. Cops tapped. Money tapped. So hungry.

Quick business.

T meddling. Shit, two Ts now. Local T. Is that really what they think of me? G: not a moment too fucking soon, either: pay my debts / don't know me / happy to help. And that sword off my neck, thank fuck.

Now: people who handle things are handling things. That means I need to push forward. Good. Things are moving on all fronts. This is what I do. Soon it'll all be clear.

OK, this has to be the most fuckedup letter I've ever received, I think, and I got some kind of farewell note from an imaginary personality I created for a sleeper agent once but this thing:

- HH, a fucking LS archbishop,
- wants to know my opinion on a candidate for his own job (which he wants to leave)
- who has proposed a draft constitution
- based on my one for Cambridge, electoral procedure and all.

How the fuck do I tell him I don't think my own work is very good?

I just stuck my head out the window, but I couldn't see if like cats were lying down with dogs or if it was raining upwards or some shit like that.

V. Promised I'd write about her, yeah. V V V

Not sure what to say: like to stop falling she clung onto this one thing, and now there she hangs, like my isn't my little island great and yeah, still pulled to her, yeah. We got pretty far into the room, she said, and that's true enough, lips cold against each other's and the way she said no lies but there's always one or two, aren't there? God, her teeth in my neck, sickening fear and the way she looked when the blood came ... taking that strange joy in not drinking. Dangerous, dangerous.

Not Ani / not the same. Nothing that stilled that loss for a moment, like having your left hand doesn't mean you don't miss your right. A few moments that hurt: talking about the music / one or two others. At least I don't find her hair on my pillows, because I haven't got any fucking pillows and all her hair would be ash. I do this even though I know it would hurt her. Jesus, love, I'm sorry. You never would have understood, but it doesn't mean I don't hurt.

V ... complicated, yeah. Not just chasing tail to help forget, because there's something, yeah, but not sure what. Every now and again -- a lot less frequently than before but still so priceless -- these little glimpses beyond the bullshit, these little visions of this strange / weird / vulnerable / strong / proud / scary but also scared and hell, I don't know, at those moments I ache for Ani so much, but also not. I wonder what that means.

But yeah, V may be a lot of things but a piece of ass to chase the loneliness away she fucking ain't. Not that I'm not looking for that... still who I always was, I guess.

Yeah, well. Lesson learned, and the lesson is: back to the basics. Back to that thing I do that I been letting slide.

And I dream of the days when work was scrappy
And rare in our pockets the mark of the mint
When we were angry and poor and happy
And proud of seeing our names in print

Yeah. Got to get that hunger back, got too complacent.

What is power? LG$, motherfuckers.