Buying the Farm.

[Cinnabar]

"Jan Baker is dead, sir, so you'd not be lining his pockets anyway." A small shrug there, and then he's listening as Dominik repeats the terms. He nods, then, and sips at his tea.

"That's about the size of it. I own the farm and a certain base level of stock, which you may use; you and yours work the farm, and whatever you end up with above that base level is yours. I receive a small share of that - you can think of it as rent, if you like - but otherwise, yes, you get to keep it or dispose of it as you wish." The mason has it right, and there's a sense that Calomel is pleased at his swift understanding of the situation.

"You'd be responsible for ensuring that the estate is maintained to an appropriate standard, mind, but I'm willing to see things brought up to that standard to start with; particularly with regard to accomodation for the estate's workforce." An apologetic look, as if wary of causing offence. "No insult to your mother's hearth, sir, but I would not feel comfortable in asking my workers to raise their families in their present conditions. There will be renovations required, which might reduce profits for the first year or so; however, I'm sure you'll agree that the benefits of such will be worthwhile." Dominik's a man with a family of his own, so there's no doubt that he'll appreciate the value of such.

And then there's this question as to what Constable-turned-landowner gets out of the deal. That prompts a grin, and an overly-nonchalant shrug. A little bit of theatre for you, sir spokesman.

"My share of the farm's profits will likely be more than enough to keep me fed and watered, sir, and I'd not ask more than that. If you can make this farm productive, and keep it so, then that'll be good for you, for me, and for Myrken as a whole - we can do without any more food shortages, I'm sure you'll agree." There's a shifting in his seat now, to lean forward almost conspiratorially, and he lowers his voice a touch. This is a more subtle matter, his attitude says, and in speaking of it he is placing no small amount of trust in the man.

"There is also the value of the land itself, sir. At present, if a private citizen seeks change in Myrken Wood he is required to petition the Judiciary Council, who may heed or ignore such requests and demands as best suits them - more often the latter than the former, if I am to be brutally frank. So this method of effecting change is unreliable at best, and a total waste of time at worst." There is some edge of dry cynicism in his tone at the mention of the Council, perhaps thinking back to their last meeting; the unproductive blathering and endless debating required to come up with some course of action with regard to the Ashfiend's acts of violence and terror. Or some course of inaction, to be more accurate. Still, he shakes his head and continues, quiet and methodical in his explanation.

"No. If one hopes to make any meaningful change, any actual improvement to the state of affairs in Myrken Wood, one must seek a place on the Judiciary Council itself. And if one hopes to find a place on the Council, under current laws one must be a landowner." The young man is quite earnest now, fingers laced about that mug of tea, gaze level upon the mason-spokesman.

"Does that make things clearer, sir?"

[channe]

It does make sense, ser Constable.
It most certainly does.

So here they are: two rather ambitious men, men oriented towards change and betterment and whatever it may mean to both of them. Dominik certainly has a grasp of what it means for Calomel, and he is only coming to the edge of what this means for the Kaczmarek clan. All of that theirs, theirs --

"There's something about a man earning his own, Constable," says Dominik Kaczmarek, shifty and black-haired and grateful. "I -- speak for all of us when I say: we agree t' the renovations; we agree t' the terms an' conditions set here, and we agree wi' yer methods o' change. I suspect we begin immediate-like?"

[Cinnabar]

"Cinnabar, please." He's out of uniform, and so to be addressed as Constable is somewhat jarring. Blurs the line between on-duty and off-duty in a manner that he does not particularly care for.

But then... Immediately? There's a grin there for the man's words, quite genuine pleasure at his enthusiasm for this new way of things. Things have gone well, his proposals have been met with acceptance and even eagerness, and that's as much as he could have hoped for. He finishes off the bread and cheese on his plate and tidies up the last scrap of bacon, dusting crumbs from his shirtfront the moment after.

"As soon as is practicable, sir - I'm keen to know of the response to these proposed changes first, so if you'd relay the details of the agreement to the various families and let me know if there are any objections or adjustments desired, that would be most useful. I'd like to be sure that everyone's content with these arrangements, before putting them into effect." Quite firm upon this point, and one might suspect that he'll be making checks of his own to be sure that matters are being dealt with properly among the families. He's well-intentioned, this silver-haired young man, but he's not so naive as he might have been.

"Also, it seems good to you - the families, I mean - I was considering some sort of gathering of the estate. To make the announcement in an official capacity, as it were, possibly a meal of some sort to go with it. I'd like a chance to meet everyone properly, in person." To see faces, to know them as more than just names and numbers in some ledger. To experience them as people. "Maybe a few days hence, to give time for everyone to think things over?"

[channe]

Acceptance and eagerness -- were you expecting anything less, Cinnabar, from these indentured? Oh, down the line, now -- there are things you are forgetting, that a life under indenture has made Dominik and his siblings crafty and ambitious, and the male Massrys still dream of having their very own land -- but for now?

"Yer a singular man, Cinnabar," says Dominik, kicking back in the chair and looking quite pleased. "People like you see that there's always room for this kinda agreement in life. I'll check, o'course, and I advise ya put my brother Piotr in charge o' the dolin'-out, as he's the fairest man I know." And, you see, one of the most respected on the farm, but intra-worker politics is a pond that Cinnabar has yet to wet his feet in.

He's finishing the dinner on his own, and thinking over what Cinnabar has said. "A few days sounds good. Jus' you an' us an' a shitload o' food. You'll 'ave to provide a bit o' grease for the machine, y'see, as my mamma ain't got much in the larder, and ye'll wanna taste her rhubarb pie."

He smiles. It's actually friendly for once.

[Cinnabar]

The young man inclines his head slightly at that praise, happy to accept it as given. It's a curious contrast, to see him out of uniform and at ease; almost a different person, more animated, more relaxed and natural. There's still that focus to him, an unconscious confidence of motion, a certain presence, but it's an easier, more comfortable thing than the intensity that he wears with tunic and badge. A singular man indeed.

"I'll bear that in mind, sir, though in all honesty I was more thinking that you'd be able to decide among yourselves as to how things will be run on a day-to-day level. If everyone's content with Piotr overseeing the distribution of shares, then I'd be content with that." Once Dominik's finished he gathers up the plates and stacks them neatly to one side, then pours out the last of the tea.

"As for the gathering, I'll let you know when I've made the arrangements for food and such, if you can organise somewhere to lay it out - there might be space in the barn, or perhaps some sort of shelter in case of rain. I'll leave that in your hands." He nods at that, sipping his tea before regarding the man thoughtfully for a time.

"One thing I should probably mention, though: I'm not unaware that you've something of a... reputation, Dominik." A reputation indeed, if you talk to the right people, if you have ears in the right places. "This agreement involves a great deal of trust on my part. There is certainly potential for abuse of that trust." Another sip of tea, though his gaze remains on Kaczmarek throughout.

"My pledge is to be as fair, equitable and sincere in my dealings with you as possible; I am trusting you - all of you - to be similarly fair, equitable and sincere in your dealings with me, and with each other. If we are willing to do this, if we are willing to cooperate with one another, then everyone on the estate will benefit." The mug is set down again, fingers laced about it.

"However, if my hopes for this arrangement are disappointed then there will be a great many regrets. A great many. And by no means will all of them be mine." Not a threat, not quite; a clarification of matters, a warning against the temptations that are inherent in such a generous agreement. Making sure that the conditions are fully understood.

"I want this to work for everyone involved. Not just for me, or for a few of the workers, or one or two families; everyone. You've spoken before of fairness, of justice and an end to exploitation. This is a chance to live up to those words, and to demonstrate that such a system can work." Sincere feeling in his words, as he pokes a fingertip at the tabletop to emphasise his point. And then a grin, in part an invitation, in part a challenge, and rich with infectious enthusiasm. It's at this point that the issue of how such a young man can command and lead the entire Constabulary might become redundant: it's because he believes in it, believes that with genuine dedication to doing the right thing, the world can be changed for the better; he believes it with such sincerity that those he speaks to want to believe it as well.

This is how Calomel leads.

"Do you think you can do this, Dominik?"

[channe]

Kaczmareks are fickle, mercurial creatures when it comes to people outside their immediate blood. Dominik is no different; the man is following Cinnabar's reasoning closely, his hands clasped and leaning forward as if he were a half-decent businessman, until Cinnabar brings up the reputation.

The Constable might see it as a flicker of -- dissappointment? Concern? Suspicion? It lasts for only a moment, and Dominik has a lovely poker face --

-- he clears his throat, after hearing the Constable out.

"We're headin' into the apple harvest, ser, so mebbe the barn ain't all that great a place; I knows we got to set up the cider mill soon." He taps his fingers on the table. "I think it'd be quite a to-do shindig if we can do it in the lawn in front o' yer big house. Symbolism, if ye will?"

He smiles, drums his fingers again, and continues. "My reputation is jus' that, ser," says the man, seemingly at ease. "If ye'll look in those records o' yers, or the ones ye inherited from those Straka droolboys, ye'll notice my name an' the name o' my family's utter-and-pristine." Not completely; Karol has one pickpocketing violiation, and one assault violation -- not that, really, he'll be repeating that kind of thing any longer.

And then, he lifts his chin and stares Calomel right in the eye.

"This takes a lot o' trust on my part, too. I speak big, but here you are speakin' big, too. I'm not a man to be stickin' my future wi' the shithead leaders around here, wi' the dissappearing-act Bromns and the fat-as-hell Treadwells and the Aldreds tha' never come out from behind their posh li'l walls. When you talk about regrets, you need to think about what regrets will be yers if you turn out to be jus' like the rest o' them."

He smiles. Surprisingly, it's a nice one. And don't think about the implications of his statement, of his "employment" by Bromn as well, which comes with some responsibility but no pay.

"I think you are one o' the good 'uns out for change, ser, so I'll give it a try. No worries on yer part, ser, no worries."

He extends his hand.

[Cinnabar]

If he's insulted by the comparisons to Treadwell, Aldred and others he doesn't make any sign of it; Dominik would be wise not to play the High Constable at cards, in any case.

"Being innocent and not being caught are not quite the same thing, sir." An easy shrug at this, as if it makes no great difference to him; indeed, he might not seem to give two figs for the Kaczmareks' past conduct, as long as he can rely on their future cooperation. In any case he's leaning forward to grasp Dominik's hand and shake it firmly, sealing their agreement with a gesture and a grin.

"With luck and a following wind, sir, I don't think we'll disappoint each other. Thank you very much for your cooperation in this."

[channe]

No. Dominik's style of cards is -- confrontational, at least, with Cinnabar hiding behind the real poker face. Both are decent strategies. Both see results.

"Right, m'lud. I'll start making those arrangements."

And he winks at the Constable, returning the firm grip-and-shake.