I get a little bit Genghis Khan

[vacabdication]

[ There have been continents and decades passed between when Ajay and Pagan knew each other. Happily, Ajay’s time in Kyrat to date has made Pagan very aware of at least one thing they still share; a flair for the dramatic. Such a flair is probably at least partly to blame for why it’s been night on impossible for Pagan to get a message to Ajay about meeting without Ajay dramatically disposing of the messenger. There’s the radio, of course, but Pagan doesn’t quite trust that nobody is listening in, and it wouldn’t do to have any of those delightful little monkeys decide to try and off Ajay for fraternizing with the enemy. So he lays the groundwork, plants the idea – ends one of his rambling calls with I’ll have to have you to dinner, sometime, and leaves it at that.

Then it’s terribly easy to have Ajay scooped up after those awful little tourists send him out on a jaunt on one of their experimental substances – god, a look at the two of them and it’s easy to remember why, accent aside, he is far more likely to present himself as of Hong Kong than of England – and brought back to the palace. Of course, he’s high as a bloody kite, and Pagan is rather proud of the delicacies he’s acquired for their little soiree a deux, so he has Ajay sequestered in a private room to recover. There is a fully stocked ensuite attached, which Pagan prays Ajay will use, and his clothes are filthy so Pagan has them ferreted away to be washed (and in some cases, mended) and a selection more suited to dinner with a King left for Ajay to choose from – a classic black tuxedo, a rather dashing and elaborately embroidered kurta set, several beautiful suits in an array of colours, even a selection of wonderful blazers and (please no) designer jeans, should that prove more within Ajay’s comfort zone. And, most importantly, a gilt invitation to dinner on thick, creamy-coloured card waiting for him on the bedside table when he wakes.

It might be sensible to have Ajay’s weapons removed, too. For maintenance, he could say. It would be a terrible, tragic loss if Ajay Ghale, son of Mohan and great hope of the Golden Path, were to suffer a sticky trigger while facing down a tiger, after all. But Pagan Min is not a sensible man, and so he chooses to give preference to the semi he gets thinking about an immaculately dressed Ajay vaulting the table to hold a pistol to Pagan’s temple rather than common sense.

After all, for Pagan Min to host a dull dinner would be unthinkable. ]

Comments

[vaaris]

[ ajay ghale really needs a better social circle.

because it's not even the first time he's woken up somewhere in kyrat with no memory of how he got there, and that seems like the kind of thing they include on those PSAs about saying no to drugs and making better life choices. and fuck, maybe his life isn't going in a great direction currently, but he can do better than being a life lesson for a middle schooler, right?

right.

... probably.

things only get weirder (if not exactly worse) once ajay sits up and takes stock enough to realize where the fuck he is. just because he's never actually been inside pagan's palace doesn't mean it's not easy to spot -- there's only one man in this country with taste like this and the sort of wallet to fund its execution, and ajay is currently right in the middle of a room that screams 'look at me! i'm rich and an asshole!'

so, okay. he's in the royal palace. naked. it could be worse.

at least someone saw fit to leave him an array of clothing choices all perfectly tailored to his size and probably each costing more than the rent on a decent apartment back home. the aforementioned someone was also kind enough to leave him a pistol and his khukri -- which counts for something, even if ajay isn't confident enough in his fabled immortality to try shooting and stabbing his way out of the palace with nothing but a knife and a handgun. what they didn't leave him were his mom's ashes, which -- ... fuck. he needs the rest of his weapons, he needs his gear, and then he needs to figure out how to get the fuck out of here and back into southern kyrat without getting himself killed.

at least the designer jeans aren't as uncomfortable as he was expecting, and he pulls on one of the blazers just to disguise the fact that he has the handgun shoved into his waistband. as for what he's expecting? it's definitely not the lavish dinner spread that he eventually stumbles onto, with pagan sitting at the end of the table and beaming at him like ajay is nothing more than a long-awaited guest. ]

What -- [ should he draw the gun? shoot him? no, there's no suppressor, and the sound of the shot would drive a swarm of guards into the room. play it cool, ajay. ] ... the fuck?