of politics and assholes named weiler

[aphelionix]

The ceremony was dull - as was expected of political events. But the welcoming of the new Senator of Caponor, a very large city on Gladsheim, was quite important for many reasons. Gladsheim Military Forces would be there to represent themselves and start a good relationship with the Senator, and hopefully, he would relay this good relationship to the masses. (The funding didn't hurt, either.)

Locke was attending as a Gladsheim soldier under his commander, Iva Gearhorn. She was to meet the senator personally to discuss Very Important Matters. The reception of the event had since started, cuing a lot of noise, eating, drinking, and overall difficulty in keeping track of the moment when the Senator and Commander would have their chat in private. Watching from the general cheese tray area seemed the best course of action, simply appearing as a quiet, trained soldier in the background.

The fancy cheese certainly helped the time pass less painfully. In fact, everything was fancy. Locke was quite enjoying the spread of gourmet finger foods, drink, and even the building - the roof was glass, showing off the soft red, Gladsheim sky at sunset, and bouncing off the marbled walls across the upper walls. The paintings of the lower floor, where the party had been set up, seemed to soak up the sunlight. (A clever direction of light designed by the architects.) The rest of the floor was lit by soft chandeliers and sconces.

Locke made sure not to spend too much time admiring - he was on the look out, despite his handful of biscuits and cheese.

Comments

[tactician]

"Flat champagne? At a party of this magnitude? I'm personally offended for the arguably important political figures that I represent," Weiler drawled, leaning back against the pillar with a raised brow. "But haven't you a reputation of your own to keep within the military?"

[aphelionix]

There was a subtle roll of his eyes under his brow.

"I'm but a soldier. A good one, but not renowned."

[tactician]

Weiler seemed either highly impervious to the exasperation of others, to the point where it was a question to be posed indeed if he even registered it anymore. He sighed, a deep, exaggerated expulsion of breath that made his eyes slip shut and his entire frame sag as the air left him. "Alas, a good ol' low-beat soldier with a promiscuous streak on the side. I suppose that is the norm," he commented, as if the fact of the matter was that it really couldn't be helped. "You soldiers are all the same, don't know the right way to treat a girl."

His eyes snapped open, sharp and alert. "A good disguise."

[aphelionix]

Locke raised a thick eyebrow at him.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." He half-meant it, too.

[tactician]

Mindless of Locke's confusion, Weiler winced, looking somewhat non-plussed. "I don't really favor the moustache, but c'est la vie, il n'est pas la peine si elle n'est pas difficile," he said, eyes straying to the center area of the hall, where Senator Wallabin was looking around him like a dog chasing his own tail, clearly having forgotten something of import or, by the looks of the unhappy set to his fiancee's perfectly red mouth, having forgotten something of hers, like maybe a gift jewelry or other such forms of bribery that she traded for whatever favors she offered in private.

Just on cue, Wallabin came to a full circle and then looked up, eyes lighting on his personal assistant by habit before his white brows drew together and up. He was no doubt wondering what his secretary was doing with a member of the Gladsheim military, speaking so quietly and so intimately considering he hadn't even quite made his play on the Gladsheim conflict for power yet. Then, his brows drew down in a little 'V' of suspicion. He was probably jumping to conclusions now, wondering if Milo Eberstark was giving him away. Ah, what a bother, these paranoid men with feeble holds on power. Now he was going to have to explain himself.

Reaching up without really looking, Weiler grabbed onto the front of Locke's uniform lapel, pulling him down directly in front of his face. "Help a fellow out, will you?" he said with a grin, before placing a solid less-than-modest kiss on the soldier's mouth. A moment later, he let go and simultaneously slipped out from between pillar and man, brushing his own pressed suit free of wrinkles as he headed towards his boss, who now looked more surprised than angry. "Danke," he called with a waggling-fingered wave, "Bis später, Herr Avery."

[aphelionix]

The whole succession of the scene was really less than ten seconds, hardly enough time for the average man to react. But within the Circle - particularly the Seventh - you learned to act on cue.

But to say he wasn't surprised would be a lie. It still wasn't everyday you played partner to another man. Much less spontaneously, with a direct kiss on the mouth. It was typically more subtle. Although, given what he learned about Weiler today, he'd say the man was light years away from subtle. This probably seemed normal to anyone who knew him.

His lack of reaction - apart from tilting his head just enough to make the kiss look like a natural motion to him - was mostly in part that it was incredibly unprofessional of a military soldier to display such affection out in the open. Locke still managed a fond smile and nod as Weiler left, playing the part until he was out of view, and no one would see it fall right off his face.

That man is insane.