"I am greatly indebted to you." I say, as he frees out of the oubliette after the interrogation.
"...Sir, I mean Lord Rayn… I am very grateful to you. I hope you will remember the loan that I borrowed from you. It is because I quite have the senile memory way worse than an old geezer or a memory span of a goldfish, so they say." as I interpret it in a candid manner.
He gives me a gentle tap on my shoulder as we are about to take an egress out of the detention area. I get the point that I can't always rely on my men who serve under me. I was tormenting them if I were under the influence of my highest ire. I sometimes get used to using too much violence to discipline the hell out of them. I lately am on the lenient side. For now. Sometimes if I can't hold my anger I may end them deferred or worst, dead. Hence the reason, the ventures of recruiting muscles and developing them is way too much work to do. Tedious. Zechary is my biggest asset out of all the crew I've had handled in the recent. He may be emotionally volatile but I like the guy because his subservience is honorable than most nobles, royalties, and imperialties I have met. His loyalty is superb and no one can par of him to it. I invested in him a lot in an exorbitant amount. He is natural, I admit that, adept, and adaptive. I put my best effort into being doctrinated him and constantly hiring professionals to hone his abilities during his time of his coming-of-age. It became pretty clear that he is an excellent protégé. But what I have taught him and under my program of tutelage is my temper. I am a sore loser in all types of things but never been so irate when playing a gentleman's sports. I can accept the defeat under fair play gracefully. It turns out to be that Zechary is my incarnation - in a lesser way, aspect-wise.
I look at Lord Rayn in his eyes, when we are enjoying the sweet scent of air's whiff and as he gets startled by the looks of it. His countenance has shown his fears. I maintain my stare as I refuse to blink and to flinch. The contacts, so they claim, I got from the Secret Order from the Inglovia - the other Inglovia where Lord Guan was hailed from. They are really useful when I desire to initiate my intimidating leer against my prey. The convenience of this apparatus wonders the depths of hell out of me. Contemplating, these lenses enhance the vision to the appropriate user, change the iris to conceal the identity of the user, and supply mild liquid to the eyes. Hence the reason why I can keep my eyes wide open without blinking. To break the tension, he tries to divert my attention by offering me a blunt, I decline. He insists and as he tries once more. Now and then, I accept the tribute that he's presenting unto me.
"This is some good breather… what is this?" I say, asking, and praising the quality of the product thereafter.
"It is Ingloviatamins. (Ing-lo-vee-ya-ta-mins)" Lord Rayn replies, while he incinerates his too, referring to the blunt, clipping on his fingers.
"Save the formalities and then." as I am suggesting him to drop the highest salutations, he nods into agreement.
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"So, where do you get these? These kinds of crap? Indeed, peculiar and sophisticating." saving the conversation, I inquire and continue, as I comment about how absurd the product is.
"As the name suggests, it is made from here - Inglovia. It is a mending formula which merges to a plethora of substances." he emphasizes, I get fascinated by the description of his statement.
"Are there any variants of this 'Ingloviatamins'?" familiarizing, as I want to extract the leads of it and to dig deeper about this novel pleasure.
"Oh yes! Indeed. Powder, tobacco, bouillon, liquid and many more - a myriad of variety and as such. Like what we are doing - through the vehicle of this stick encompassing the content and that is respiration through incineration. A tobacco item. It can also be consumed in a direct way through inhaling by the nose or by eating with the use of a mouth, in a granule form. Hence the namesake is powder variation. In a liquid solution, there are three ways to receive the article: drinking or injecting..." and by-procedures he does his best to utter the complexity of this so-called Ingloviatamins, as he stops in the middle of his explanation, while he looks at me.
"How about the latter one? You said: 'There are three mediums', inn'it? What is the other one?" I ask, where I continue to sip a smoke to the blunt on my fingers in between.
"It is by anal insertion. And yes, you heard that right. By the means of enema as a liquid and suppository as a small solid cone. They may be laxatives or another form of drugs." he explains, I regret asking him about the details, as it turns out to be horrid knowing the mystery of this.
I cough all of the puff down through my lungs up until my throat which causes me to scoff: "Damn it, those are nasty!" I declare in a downright manner the procedure of intaking such drugs. He is persistent where he still wants to continue discussing the explanation. And of course, how can a drug be so versatile as another one of the patented trademarks is a: "... in a crystalized cube, it came from a frozen broth and meshing it with a slice of voila ingredient." as Lord Rayn elaborates. Food, condiment, drug, suppressant, and lemme guess, aside from being a substance with the alignment to the extreme - an analgesic will be next or does it exist as of lately? Ingloviatamins is really a peculiar type of whatever classification it may be.
After we finish smoking all of the fags, a soldier interupts the quality time of both Lord Rayn and I. The constable recruit, perhaps, seems in a hurry. He reports the details closely to the wars of his superior - Lord Rayn. While I am staring at the messenger, I do claim that I was right. He is an initiate in view of the fact that his movements are so lousy and his insecurity whilst checking on me shows how novice he looks. The soldier then gives a salute towards both of us and leaves afterwards. Lord Rayn confronts in a close distance conversation, he implies: "Your 'lil ass crazy chaplain got some big cojones infiltrating a 'burg'." as I meet with a stern look and a stoic response by him.
"Oh my god! Lord Augur, what did you do?" contemplating, I wonder.