Queegmaa's African Magnum Opals

Queegmaa's African Magnum Opals
Date of Scene:	05 December 2013
Location:	Vector - Palace
Synopsis:	Queegmaa plants seeds of conspiracy in Rakassa's mind, and she takes the bait, hook, line, and sinker; plans are set in motion to purge The Pride Lands of their precious gems.
Cast of Characters:	Queegmaa, Rakassa

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Rakassa has posed:
Rakassa is never a woman to wait on others, if she can help it. You'd have to be the Emperor, for that...and even then, begrudgingly. But when the Emp's away, the snake will most certainly play. Calling her little minion, upon hearing that he's been scheming something, she leans back in her plush seat, feet up on her hardwood desk. She sips away at a wine glass.

"Where /is/ that little cretin? Ahh, well. May as well call /him/ in too." So too does Vohstra get a summons. Time to see what the kappa has in that head of his.

Queegmaa has posed:
The true puppet-master of Vector was an engineer.... when he wasn't concocting some kind of new machine, he was taking various pieces of information and reassembling them until they fit together. Research was his weapon of choice, and gathering intelligence, because while Queegmaa wasn't a warmaster like Celes and General Leo, there was one thing he bided his time with while he sat on the sidelines keeping score, instead of playing the game; think. Always cowering in the shadows, he cultivated a mind that was fraught with the understanding of machinations with which few else could compete, for the recesses of his cranial chambers were alight with the kind of notions that could bring about yet more darkness, and suffering. He'd heard first-hand from Vohstras what they were up against-- during the assault on their Mtek Lab, two prominent members of the entourage had made spectacles of themselves, who went by the names of 'Angantyr' and 'Avira'.

Judging from what was witnessed at the fiasco, Angantyr reminded Vohstras of a bull in a China shop, whose only talent was his neanderthal-approach to dealing with his adversaries.... 'bash with big club', or the equivalent thereof. However, Avira seemed to be more organized in wittiness than that, and had a caluclating, shrewd mind, even if it had been applied to altruistic enterprises in the World of Ruin. Queegmaa had seen it for himself when he visited the short-statured woman's camp; she had foresight, and she had strategy on her side, especially when she had a verbal joust with him pertaining to the nature of The Spine's origins... she corrected the kappa on a minor detail that may have made all the difference in the world, which spoke volumes for her acuity of her maturity. She was not an angry child wielding her father's gun that she'd found lying around. .....And speaking of Vohstras, he had been summoned to the meeting as well, since he apparently was said to have some information that would've been useful to the discussion, as asserted by Queegmaa.

The conniving troll entered Rakassa's chamber right on time, knowing what he'd incur if he'd made her linger even a solitary minute due to his antics, regardless of what they might've been, legitimate or otherwise! Upon entering the room, Queegmaa grunted, and said, "Adamirial Rak'sa" Half the time, he didn't even get her name right, but at least all his other 't's were crossed properly. "Cap'in Vohstras...." He narrowed his eyes, envious of the fact that the samurai was still Rakassa's favorite-- probably because he was more charismatic in aesthetic, besides being a bold-spirited warrior who wasn't afraid of his enemies.... an ideology Vector's militaristic nation favored over the armchair generals who cringed behind while the roughnecks charged forward. Queegmaa preferred to look before leaping, which was seen as hesitation and skittishness, whereas leaping before looking was seen as fearlessness, and valued highly by the empire; this was probably how it needed to work, to have a functional community.... A couple chiefs and a lot of braves, for too many ideas and not enough workers to implement those ideas would mean stagnation, and perhaps civil war. The water-imp knew there was no other way for that to happen but to instill in the people a sense of necessity towards stalwart folks who were strong of body, athletes.... a blue-collar, middle-class. If too much emphasis was put on the significance of the think-tanks, then the proletariat would rebel!

"Alrighty, den... Ya both knowed dat I's be the forem'st guy here on Eard's history, 'n all that jazz." He smirked, building himself up temporarily, since he knew that if they denounced him in that regard, that he could, and /would/ prove them wrong for denying it-- this was one of those few chances he had to brag. "I been studyin' da corpertions in Manhattan, 'n 'sposedly, Europe had a rayle impack on da wurl', before dey became parta dis place...." He nodded, and continued his thought, "Ev'dentilly, they gotta head start from Eurapoe, which traded wi' da udder places tuh help 'em get deir technology up ta speed, see." Right now he was laying the groundwork for what he'd introduce as his plot, but first, he had to get Rakassa intrigued enough to tempt her into supplying him with a good half hour, since she was just as liable to call off the meeting if the proposition didn't sound appetizing.....

Rakassa has posed:
To even get in the door was proof that Rakassa was interested...at least for the moment. Mercuriality is certainly a trait many perscribe to her. As unreliable as it may come across, it at least means that only ideas of real merit get past her. It's part of why she's so high ranked; Rakassa isn't given to military actions without a good cause.

The woman uncrosses and re-crosses her legs. She holds her chin up with a fist, elbow on the arm of her chair. The other hand drums her fingernails on the desk. Her eye narrows just slightly, and she yawns dramatically. "Go on." She says in an utterly unimpressed tone.

Seems the woman's looking for a little taste before she chows down.

Queegmaa has posed:
As disinterested as she 'appeared' to be, which was something she put on for the sake of keeping up appearances of her own righteousness and importance, the fact that she gave Que leave to proceed was enough to verify her intrigue.... Not only that, but because of Queegmaa's uncanny penchant for seeing the most subtle of shifts in one's face, he had spies located where others would not suspect, and the most faint of twitches informed him that she was much more excited than she let on-- it was time to build a little more suspense, just to give Rakassa the kind of joyride that made Queegmaa such a thrill.... at least, he was a favorite source of entertainment for her when he was onto something.

Right now, though, he exhibited a confidence that conveyed a vastness of truth backing up whatever hypothesis his whole speech would culminate into; but it was not yet time to go for the kill. Just a little longer.... that was all Que wanted.... he knew emotion -did- influence the admiral, and if her curiosity got the better of her, that alone would lighten up her mood and get her really prone to investing in the hateful one's blueprint. "Well... Vohstras dere's been snoopin' round da Pride Lan's recently, which he chose as his partic'lar route las' time he went tuh China. We all knowed dat he's inta dat eastern phil'sfee sh*t, so les not get into a big hoo-hah over me givin' out personal details on people's lives. None of us here's a dunce." If he was cutting corners and breaching protocol, for the sake of cutting to the chase, Rakassa must have been dying of curiosity, and would've made it all the tougher for her to hide it.... certainly, she would've started to tremble a little with anticipation-- her lustful nature couldn't be contained fully, and Que would administer the medicine right before she'd be about to burst.

"So... ta get ta da point here... or, at least one point. When he was in Afurka, 'n he changed inta some kinna monkey--" Queegmaa was promptly cut off by Vohstras as he sent a telepathic message to both the imp and Rakassa, to correct him on a technicality, which caused the kappa to grumble, "S'I was sayin'....." Queegmaa nodded, "One'a his attendants happ'd ta find a diamond." The admiral must have been dying from desire to know what he was getting at, but he would let her wonder just a moment longer before giving the punchline. That was his way. Most likely, she was already beginning to figure out where Queegmaa was going with this, to some degree, but not in totality, whereas Vohstras was most likely clueless, or else completely apathetic, since his expression didn't change one bit.

Rakassa has posed:
For once, the woman actually shows irritation on the correction. Rakassa doesn't /care/ about the difference. Luckily, she keeps Vohstra around less for entertainment, and more for skill. He can afford to irritate her with little things like that. It's a luxury given to very few.

Booted feet hit the ground as she sits up. Leaning forward, Rakassa peers into the Kappa's eyes. "So. We have a diamond. Not that I don't /like/ diamonds, but what's the point?" Pause. Slowly, she smirks.

"...We going to soon be sitting atop a diamond mine?"

Queegmaa has posed:
Que chuckles darkly, wagging his finger, "Close... bu' no...." He smirks at Vohstras, "Banana." At this, Vohstras clears his throat, showing some annoyance at the jibe, but most likely, since it was a disparagement at someone's expense, Rakassa would have found it amusing, especially in light of the fact that Vohstras had just invoked the irritable side of the woman. Queegmaa holds out his hand, and remarks, "What I mean's dat it ain't gon' be too soon... see... here's da ding...." He sighs, "Most of da folk who go ta da pride-lands is turnin' inta lions, hinas, elfanants, jirfs, and nonsense like that. Now... some turn intuh primates, wi' oppos'ble thumbs, as ya knowed. But dem boys is mostly gon' be useless when we git'em over dere." As if to bring the whole shibang to a conclusion, he holds up a finger, "In Afurka, they was the leadin' producer o' diamonds fer decades, by exploitin' kids, which everyone knows wud bring Vector bad publicity, which we can't 'ford, if we wanna fly un'er the radar.... 'n as I said..."

He pauses to let Rakassa process the first mass of information, "Erybody turns into animals when dey go there, nohows. In China, dey was king o' da hill in producin' iron ore." He holds up a second finger, "We got da technology to be producin' androids like Number Zero-Twenty-Four, and Number One-Twenty-Eight.... right?" He smirks. Now Rakassa must have been about ready to come apart at the seams. Que held up another finger, "I hear dat recently some Shaduh Lord undead weirdo attacked China, and made a mess, which means dey's ripe for sending in ar folks to negotiate trade for their d'posits of iron, cuz I knowed dem boys is des'prit." He holds up one more finger, "While we's tradin' for iron o'er in China at wholesale prices, we ken compile lists of da fellas who turn into apes 'n all dat.... so dey can be overseers when we colonize, 'n strip Afurka of its diamonds. 'N I'll let you take a wild guess who, er what da work-force is gon' be composed of...."

He smiles proudly, decidedly letting Rakassa deliver the coup de grace, so she can savor the delectable succulence of getting to close up the deal, so she can feel almost like it was partially her own idea.

Rakassa has posed:
It takes all of Rakassa's willpower not to get up, wrap her hands around the little kappa's neck, and shake him until he comes out with it. Indeed, there's opportunity at the tip of her nose. She /hates/ waiting. The little jerk is drawing it out, she knows it! Just to get under her skin. She smiles. It's an angry smile. He finally leaves it up to her.

"...Heh. My, my, how /horrible/ you little, black-hearted wretch. I /knew/ I kept you around for some reason. Going to use our little mechanical friends to do all the work, without any of the pr disasters that might come with abusing the locals. Mmm. Not as entertaining as watching the little wretches squirm, buuut I suppose we can just slowly mutilate and tear away every piece of value we can from it. There will be time for fun later."

A swift nod. "Right, then, you two. Lists in order, and I will make the right calls to have the appropriate robots made for the task. But we will not suffice off of one site. Scout more. And try not to piss off the savages too much. We don't need a war. Just profit."

Queegmaa has posed:
Que knows this is a game that he /can/ play with Rakassa, because she -needs- him for these kinds of things, since nobody else can perform the mental work he does. Conspiring is his favorite game, and though he doesn't actually 'play the game', he's the best scorekeeper that the game has ever known, which gives him his few days in the sun; this in spite of the fact that intense sunlight will dry him out, if he's exposed to it directly. When she compliments him, the goblin folds his arms across his chest fearlessly, taking in the flattery, since it'll be all he'll be allowed to subsist upon until his next big breakthrough of an idea. Now, once he comes up with the ideas, it's no longer /his/ fault if it doesn't work, because he's Mister Theory-- the grunts who actually perspire will be the ones to take the blame if it goes awry, since.... who can prove it was a bad idea, if it /can/ be proven that the peasantry didn't do their jobs correctly? Queegmaa never misses a beat, and keeps excellent records, so if there's one thing he'll do during the entire operation, is to document productivity, so that he can identify a few scapegoats if the whole thing buckles.

To Rakassa's presumption that the workers will be robots, Que holds up a finger and winks, charmingly, "Ah.... but dere's some icing on dis cake.... see...." Now Rakassa must be feeling especially delighted, because this kappa is pampering her beyond all reason, "Ya /WILL/ get ta see a lot o' sniveling mongrels suffer....." He flashes a toothy grin, and places his bets on Rakassa's enthusiasm experiencing a revival, as he prepares to explain the rest. "Af'er the diamonds is mined, we're gon' recalibrate da machines inta 'war' machines. Fact is... you said we dun need a war-- but.... what we dun need none of, is a war /right now/." He starts to pace, "What happens if we got dis giant workforce dat's outta work, sittin' in ar fac'tries, gettin' all rusty? We lose munny." The turtle comes to a halt, then turns his head towards Rakassa, with his body facing perpendicular to her own, as Vohstras simple absorbs it all, "Remember our buddies o'ver at Glabados? Dey's always startin' trouble, wagin' wars with other countries ta try ta convert 'em."

Que scoffs disapproingly, "Dat stupid rat of their's has a war-record like nobody else in dis world.... Jaren dun tol' me about it, when I reported him, and slandered him, cuz dey had ta pretend to be proud of their personell, or seem word'd get around dat they was faithless. Jayrn needed a 'cuse tuh deny F*ckruja a raise, 'n I gave it ta him, but it dun change da fact that the church is always sending fools here 'n dere to try and capture those Heretics.... Meanwhile, we ain't had no probs with the Returners, which means our bots ain't gon be doin' much 'round here....." He shifts his body to face Rakassa's, once more, "Glabados buys ar services, 'n our robots, 'n we get on better terms wi' dem. Plus.... they'll be field-testin' the droids /for/ us, so dat our technology will increase at deir expense...." Que gave the widest smile he'd born the whole day, "....Now ya kint tell me dat this int duh best plan we ever hatched!"

Rakassa has posed:
Rakassa quite simply leans back. She grins, once again kicking her feet up as she sips on her wine. Even as the alcohol runs through her sister, Vector's maiden of lust listens to Que's.../THEIR/ plan unfold.

"Perfect. Money, data, and plenty of wretches squirming for our pleasure. Just /perfect/!" She looks happy enough to dance. Instead, she polishes off the rest of her glass. Soon enough, she's chugging down the bottle. For her to do that in front of Vohstra, means she's /very/ pleased with things.

"Mmm. Que? Get this set up, and you can go on a vacation. One week. Wherever you want to go. Of course, if this goes south...guess who gets to be my new guinea pig for a few war beasts~" Best to intersperse threats with reward. Keeps her minions in line.

Queegmaa has posed:
Queegmaa watches her guzzle straight from the bottle, inwardly knowing that by the time the whole thing went south, they'd still be so far ahead from possessing new robots, even if the diamond venture wasn't lucrative, that she'd be more forgiving, pointedly remindng himself that he wouldn't be the guinea-pig, because he could weasel some way out of it, with a well-worded explanation on why it'd be in her best interest to keep him intact. On the other hand, he couldn't actually vocalize this, or she'd be forewarned of his plans, and have all the more reason to hold him accountable for cataclysm. Rubbing his temples, feigning worry over the threat, he then had a random thought that he found amusing, "It's too bad dat we can't stick some'a dem slave-crowns on da Nezumi o'er in Burmecia, 'n such. I hear tell dat rats is good diggers, and having ourselves some mice-slaves who you could mistreat might make the deal jus' a lil bit sweeter for ya."

He shrugs his shoulders, and then snaps his fingers, "Ah... speakin' of diggin'.... We ain't gon git tuh far if we're hamren 'way at rocks all day with pick-axes." With that, he bows a little, "Admril, why don'tcha lemme go ta Montressor Spaceport so I can see about snaggin' some of dat laser science they got over dere? Outfit our bots wi' lasers an' we can maximize our output, plus, if any of da local predatory wildlife tries sumfin like ta eat us, den we can evasreeate 'em rayle quick-like. I hear dat Mufasa's a smart cookie..... We shud consider makin' allies with his enemies, cuz he ain't corrupt 'nuff ta be bribed ta let us start pollutin' the Pride Lands, ya?" This was the final variable in Queegmaa's equation that he felt was worthy of mention; he didn't know anything about the Elephants' Graveyard, and the hyena alliance, but surely.... /somebody/ was interested in negotiating terms for keeping Mufasa off of the Vectorites' backs.....

Rakassa has posed:
The Admiral lets out a genuine laugh, looking utterly amused. "Oh, to see a bunch of rats scurrying about so~. Interesting, but who wants a bunch of disgusting little rodents around? And besides, slave crowns are boring. Those hollow, lifeless eyes...no pain, no suffering, no loathing.../boring/. Useful, but boring. A last resort." Rakassa isn't like Kefka. She has class and style!

She waves her hand dismissively. "Do it. We'll need to get a better view of the political landscape. Difficult, no doubt, since it's just a bunch of animals. No cities, no borders...still. Sharp eyes, gentlemen. Animals, as a whole, are less stupid than one might think."