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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FirstMovement|First Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT [[ADanceOfAngels]] |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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| − | == A Little Slice Of Heaven ==
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| − | As the Ashen Dove closes in the gates of the Celestial Manse - So beautifully inlaid with gold and silver, shining so strinkingly under the rosy colors of Twilight, he feels home. He feels the essence pouring from the inside, so warm, so accepting... so much the gates blocking it make him grimace. Twice as tall as he stands, made of beautiful silver and gold-wrapped bronze... at its sides the even taller wallscreeping plants arranged neatly, covering all but the exquisite work of pictures in releve, half-statues carved in pearly stones, the imagery of the Unconquered Sun, Luna and the Maidens, their symbols and their forms, dominating it along with wings, feathers, blades, warriors and creatures under their blessings... as he closes in, they open for him, the face of a beautiful girl with hair like silver and shadow holdin it open. "Yes? May I help you?"
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| − | <b>Domiel:</b> As Luna must always give way to the glory of the Sun, so too can no night, no matter how pleasant, last forever. But the memory of laying tangled in sweaty sheets and the soft touch of warm hands on his back, warm lips on his chest, stick with the Ashing Dove as he strides down the stairway into the inn. Smiling, his body still bed-warm and hair still tangled, as he makes his way to the door. He catches Aliset's eye as he passes and winks, smiling all the more as she blushes and looks away. But doesn't look displeased or regretful. That sends a pleased flush to his pale cheeks as he steps out into the cold, wet world outside the door.
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| − | He pulls his new scarf up high, making a mask over most of the bottom half of his face, keeping his head low and shoulders hunched as he makes his way through the crowded streets. Towards the Holysword estate. Towards the boy.
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| − | The wind plays with his long hair as he stalks onward, whipping it into his eyes, reveling the gleaming manse through a curtain of storm-gray. Warmth pours into his narrow body, despite the cold, The warmth of the sun, of bonding and friendship, of a bed shared with a beautiful woman in the pre-dawn twilight. Even looking at it from without, the place felt like home.
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| − | Time to pay his dues. With a sigh and a shrug, he grasps the bars of the gate and moves to let himself in, then lets them fall away as the gates swing open on their own and leave him staring at a vision of loveliness.
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| − | His smile is immediate, but hidden behind the scarf and his voice politely and charming, if a bit muffled, as he bows to the girl. "Yes miss. Gasper Von Regis here to see the master of the house"
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| − | <b>Shiris:</b> "Oh, so it is you! Young Master told me to expect someone like you to show up... of course, not quite that handsome!" She says, her body clothed in what seems like a dress made in Crystal, a long dress of silver and opals, arranged in snowflake patterns as blinding under direct like as snow... clearly the dress of a servant, but that of a royal servant... "Come in, come in, please... oh, and he also didn't tell me of your... station."
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| − | <b>Domiel:</b> "No station of consequence," he says as he steps through the gates of the estate, the homey warmth growing stronger as soon as his foot touches the property. Taking his eyes away from the beautiful servant long enough to sweep the estate with a slow glance, taking the moment to pull the scarf away from his face and breath in deeply. "Is the young master about, by any chance?"
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| − | <b>Shiris:</b> Before Domiel is The Perfected Palace of Eventide is the Holysword’s Manse in Windia. Almost an embassy of sorts, given the sort of deals the Royal Family of Whiteshield always had in Windia... a resplendent building, white pillars holding a great opening, tall enough that the stairs to its door seem grandiose, a spire painted gold, abstract mandalas around it reaching to the sky, the image of the sun between them.... it's simply... mangnificent. The Manse seems to go way to the sides and back, spiraling narrower to the top, and having no less than three expansive floors... the garden is another matter altogether, although you see little of it from your position. "Oh, of course." She says, closing the portals behind you with but a gesture. "It's not like he has too many places to go now, is it? And you are far too modest, mr. Von Regis."
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| − | <b>Domiel:</b> It feels like home, but this is certainly no mean cousin of his families country estate. Even for all the noble houses he has played in or Terrestrial manses he has seen from afar, there is something about the Holysword manse that gives him pause.
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| − | "No," He smiles at the pretty servant girl again. "No miss, not modest at all. Simply practical," the Ashing Dove holds out his hand and puts on his most charming smile, pale eyes dancing with the vigor this place brings. "Will you take my arm and escort me to your employer?"
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| − | <b>Shiris:</b> She nods, the enigmatic smile she used when calling him modest not vanished from her face, "Oh, of course, Lord Von Regis... this way." And she escorts him through the paved road over the grass, beautiful flowers in pockets of gardens around you, a hedge maze and an orchard to left and right, respectively... and then the great stairs, which you climb with a calm pace... "Hmmm, employer? He said you were... a friend."
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| − | <b>Domiel:</b> Domiel strolled, making no effort to hurry and end his time beside the attractive servant. He enjoyed the sights around him. The scents of the garden, of green growing things, were vibrant. They made him think of the Summer Circle, and those thoughts in turn of Aliset and brought numerous discreet, appraising glances at the silver-clad woman on his arm.
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| − | A place of power and reverence and it was making him as randy as a stallion penned with a mare in heat.
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| − | He laughed softly, as much to himself as to the servants comment. "An acquaintance would be a more apt description. A friend to be, I hope." Provided, of course, Alex did not remember that little matter of the garden and the exile. Oath or no, it would be difficult to watch over the boy if his father's anger had poured into him as well. "In truth, we've only just met. I knew his sister, though."
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| − | <b>Shiris:</b> "His sister? Which of them, Lady Carina or Lady Elizabeth?" She asks, her unnatural hair waving as if to respond to the essence emanations on the place, the door opening for a feeling of... warmth, inside. Acceptance, that of a mother, that of a mother...
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| − | "Oh, I hope so as well... young master seems to be in need of some friends. Millia is even worse than him, right now... specially with her charge, Lord Cedric, on that poor state..."
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| − | <b>Domiel:</b> "Both. Carina far longer than Elizabeth. The elder was simply another acquaintance. I traveled with the younger princess for a while though, before coming here. We had met on the road..." he trails away as they pass through the mouth of the door, his senses lingering in the air. There is something odd about the warmth, unfamiliar to the Changeling but resonating deeply inside of him just the same. But the opulence of the Palace distracts him from it and the servants words make it hard to enjoy.
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| − | "The little one still isn't well?" Domiel asks as delicately as he can. Children and illness went hand in hand in the north, but it was never pleasant to make conversation about it, and an ill prince was a misfortune of a nation. But the concern is still plain in his tone. "I saw him on the horse at the gates, when the prince and his entourage arrived yesterday. What is the matter with him?"
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| − | <b>Shiris:</b> "He is... sleeping. And haven't waken up yet. He seems so weak and frail... seems like he has not opened his eyes since that fateful night..." Her melodious voice distracts you as you walk through a clear, golden hall of pearlescent floor, lit by ever-burning candles, reflected by many mirrors and paintings... as she leads you up one of the stairs within the manse. "Hmmm, you are well-known to princess, lord Van Regis..." she giggles as her hand leads you through the corridors overlooking the great hall...
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| − | <b>Domiel:</b> "I see..." Domiel says softly, feeling a brief flutter of saddness at the news. Not his children, his friends, his nation. Not even desired as his charges, but they are just that, and one seems to have already fallen to the wayside. A fine start to the promise.
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| − | <i>At this rate, they'll both be dead and I'll be free before the end of the month.</i>
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| − | The bitter thought doesn't make him smile, much.
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| − | "Am I?" he asks innocently, making his tone light again. Brooding on sorrowful thoughts never helped. And it gave you wrinkles. "I never counted two as many, but I suppose that puts me ahead of most. I would think you have me at a disadvantage there. A lady such as you must draw all manner of attentions when the Holyswords are in residence, miss... ah..." He looks at her with pink embaressment, waiting for the maid to fill the name he had forgotten to ask her for.
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| − | <b>Shiris:</b> "Shiris. Call me Shiris." She nods, blushing slightly.... "No, I.... am here, really. I don't... get out much."
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| − | Her face becomes thoughtful fror a moment, then brightens, "I do know all of the Holyswords, though! All the children, their parents, those who came before them... even those from very far, like the Ducates, visited here at times... and the nobility of Windia... Tierneys, Durants, even the De Windia boy and the Windia girl came here a couple of times!" She smiles. "Every time there is some party or negotiation..."
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| − | <b>Domiel:</b> "Ah, so you <i>do</i> have me at a disadvantage!" he chuckles. "Perhaps you would do me the honor of introducing me around, when the young prince opens this place for parties and negotiations again."
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| − | Even as he says it, Domiel can almost see a party taking place. Dancers swirling through these opulent halls. The long skirts and lavish costumes of noblewoman gliding across the gleaming floors, while brash young noblemen woo with poetry and over exuberant stories of wealth and daring do. Everyone parading their wealth like peacocks, strutting and warbling, trying to be the loudest and the brightest. He could hear how music would resound off the walls, just in the faint echo of their voices and the soft patter of their lone foot steps upon the stairway.
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| − | "I would be honored to play here, one day" he murmurs as the visage flutters and fades. "And to have your company again, of course. If not here, then perhaps else where. You say you don't get out much. Perhaps I could show you a few places of interest."
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| − | <b>Shiris:</b> "No, no. Sorry, I just.... can't. I have a task here." Her voice has pure determination on it.
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| − | "Now, if you want to be around... why not? I love company. And this place is sooo big... I haven't even bored of it yet!" She giggles, walking up a stair... and into a artfully-pruned high garden, where Alex stands, sitting on a bench, close to some yellow and purple flowers, winds great behind him, all covered in white clothes dotted by the rain that is no more, and all surrounded by .... birds. On his head, on his shoulders, perched atop his fingers... he smiles as one with them...
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| − | <b>Domiel:</b> "If I can somehow arrange an invitation to stay, I would be more than happy to. Alex did not seem so eager for company, the night before"
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| − | Domiel grows quite as they approach where Alex is sitting and shortens his stride. His fingers press gently against Shiris's arm, pulling her back to match his pace. He trades a smile with her and shakes his head, gesturing to the prince.
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| − | <i>Let him be, for the moment.</i>
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| − | Holding the servant girls arm gently, the Changeling stands quietly, awaiting notice, and watching. It's a far different sight than the would-be lion who had pulled him from the bar the night before and a completely different person from the quietly sobbing child who had slumped on the floor of his room at the inn. Maybe it was just the effect of this place. Domiel wondered if everyone who came here could feel the caring warmth that radiated from the walls. It glowed in Alex's face as well.
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| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> A moment passes.
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| − | He glows with warmth, caressing the birds, letting them perch themselves on his wings, not shrugging them off as most do... petting the white one over his fingers gently. The trees grow great, entwined, and all blooming colorful, shining colors.... but the moment passess, and he notices them there, with a smile, "Oh, lord Van Regis! Have you been there for long? How are you? Thanks for bringing him here, Shiris.... I really appreciate it!"
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| − | <b>Domiel:</b> "Well, Prince Alex, quite well," he bows his head respectfully, but makes no other motion without further invitation. "Your lovely servant here was just showing me around the grounds. I must say your home here is impressive. Makes me feel as if I had spent part of my life growing up in squalor."
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| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "Well, with no false modesty, the Perfected Palace of Eventide is... breathtaking, is it not? I really wished to come here more times. My parents always had gatherings here..." The boy-prince's eyes look around, seeing the happiness and the fun of those parties, remembering his parents and his family... knowing each and every memory was so precious, now.
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| − | "... but, come now," He gestures for him to sit down, "Tell me, where did you grow up? With a suntuous name like Von Regis... oh, and Shiris, could you get us some dessert? Have to treat our guest like my parents would!"
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| − | He smiles, sitting down with the performer and listening to his stories, telling his own, getting to know the man pledged to him... and making up his plans.
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| − | Pale and Dark Angels wake up in the Underworld, after horrible nightmares... the anguish of loneliness, and the words of the Lover. Crossing back to the land of the living, seeing the church... incredibly quiet, with few remnants from the battle, Selina and Vorpal come back to the Inn... and let the day pass, taking the rain with it. Both their companion and their charge are nowhere to be found, save for a note left by the performer - to meet the two on a restaurant , a nice upper-class place in upper Windia, one of its private rooms rented by them for a dinner, at night.... 'apologies for two nights ago', says a note signed by Alex.
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| − | The Restaurant, Pontevechio, is a foreign one, quite expensive and crowded, and has always been.... relatively new, but it was already <i>quite</i> famous and crowded last time Selina was in Windia, a couple years ago... you can only imagine what they did to get a reservation in just two days. Eastern food, and its most delicate and fine ones at that.
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| − | When you come into the restaurant, you see many paintings - of the gods of the great forks, the rangers of lookshy, and of many, many plants that can be only found in the East.... you are walked to a room far up, a private room where the boy and the man wait for them under candlelight....the boy prince gets up, greeting the Abyssal misresses as they come in, "Welcome! Hope everything went well last night..."
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| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> "Can't really say it did", Vorpal grumbles in reply, seeking out a seat for herself without invitation. She pulls the chair into a corner, backrest against the wall, and slumps down.
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| − | <b>Domiel:</b> Leaning against the wall near by, idly puffing on an expensive rolled cigarette purchased from the front of the restaurant, the Ashing Dove stares quietly into space, his mind mulling over the proposition the prince had offered him earlier in the evening. Only when Alex moves to make his greeting does Domiel notice the arrival of the two women. Crushing out the cigarette against the heel of his boot, the Changling puts on a broad smile.
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| − | "Miss Lilith, madam Nellens," he nods to each in turn. "You both look ravishing tonight."
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| − | A bit thick. They both looked rather worn if anything, but it never did to point that out. Lilith having already taken a seat before any good manners could be offered, Domiel steps up behind the next vacant chair and eases it out, waiting behind it. "Madam Nellens, at your leisure."
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| − | "Well, I wasn't thrown into a box and given to them, so it's... something, right?" He smiles. "Oh, and just ring the bell here if you want anything... Eastern cousine is quite nice, isn't it?"
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| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> The candlelight reflects on his fine black and white clothes, the white becoming like part of the flame, the black vanishing in the shadows around him. His unnatural hair and eyes shine unnaturally in this light... "I want to apologize for last night, Domiel, ladies.... I was really unfair with you then."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Wearing the same outfit she did on the night of the party, Selina sits herself down without comment and almost brings one wing around to pick at the feathers -- very bad manners in an establishment such as this. Catching herself, she looks to Domiel and says "Thank you."
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| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> "Fu." Vorpal leans back in the chair, throws one foot over the knee of the other and folds her arms over her chest. "It happens all the time."
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| − | <b>Domiel:</b> "My pleasure." Domiel eases the chair in behind the Windian carefully, then steps away to seek his own seat on the far end of the table.
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| − | He laughs softly at Alex and shakes his head. "He'll be going on like that for some time, if we let him. You should have heard him earlier."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Raising an eyebrow at Alex, then looking straight at the boy, she'd continue. "I think we'll be leaving Windia soon, however." Reaching out for the glass of water at her setting, Selina takes a sip and then finishes quietly. "Very soon. I have things to take care of."
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| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "Hey...." He looks around, embarassedly, "I just wanted to... just...."
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| − | "...You know." He'd smile in embarassment, trying to look for something else to say, then sigh in relief as Selina changes the topic for him. "Oh, so do I... that is actually one of the reasons I called for this dinner."
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| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "Is it?" She asks, taking another sip and then putting the glass down. "And what would those be?"
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| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> Vorpal's eyes have been closed, and she sits in the chair unmoving. Her breathing is deep and regular, and for a casual observer, she could just as well have dozed off already. Something about her, however, seems to give off that she is far from asleep, and is listening to the conversation with half an ear while her mind works with something else.
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| − | <b>Domiel:</b> "Come now," the musician speaks up, leaning back comfortably in his chair, hands folded upon his lap. "Must we speak about business so soon? The night is still fresh and we'll have time later. Our young host has generously opened his purse to pay for this evening. Why not enjoy it? As I understand it, it will be some time before any of you have a moment of comfort after tonight."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "We'll have the night, yes. But I think...there are some things I should clear up now." Turquoise eyes half-lidded as Selina looks across the table. "I have no intention of spending tonight without some enjoyment after all."
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| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "Sorry, Gasper, but that is something that would be best to be over with soon..."
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| − | "Today, I went shopping... wanted to get some things which I just couldn't trust one of the servants to, and couldn't let go of Shiris... I went out, and saw something sold by a guild caravan near the entrance of the city. Plates, silverware and such. Unique ones. Those you'd only find with a rich family from Whiteshield... being sold around. They are sacking it. They are sacking my country!" He almost lashes out. Almost. It is clear that the boy is making an effort to remain calm...
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| − | "I do not know how many are still alive or how many are dead, I do not know what became of most of it... but that has to stop. They have to pay. I was to be their protector... I just can't let them have it like this! And if half of the legends about my power are true, I can stop it."
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| − | "I am going. That is something that I simply have to do. I know I promised you... but I promised my father, and my people first! I have to cleanse my land. I have to take it back. To protect my people." His words do not get louder, but they get... stronger. An aura of idealism, of belief, fills the room. His belief is overwhelming, his outrage and grief filling his voice, but coated with something else, something that fill his entire being, and the entire room, now - determination.
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| − | His eyes close, and he seems to be eyeing the two Abyssals through them. "I want your help. I need your help. I know I can not do this alone.... and I really, really need your help. I do not know what I need to compromise with your Mistress for it. I do not want to begin my life as a king going back on my word. But I owe my people. And I can not let them suffering for even a minute more."
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| − | "I will talk to any emissary of your mistress... but that is something that needs to be done. And I will not be talked out of it. And anyone who wants to stop me from helping my people now would better be sure of her ability to stop me." he finishes. "But I do have too many enemies now. And you saved me too many times, now that I think of it... I don't want to have you two as such."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Rubbing a satin-gloved finger over the rim of her glass delicately, Selina smiles a little at his speech, then chuckles low in her throat. "Oh, I'll help you. You see, there was a little...deal, proposed by the Bishop's men. For you, and your sword."
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| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "You said you would go barter with them... what was the deal?"
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Looking at the rest of her company, Selina continues in the same almost-purring, velvety soft tone. "I never expected them to pay the price the Lover may want, it's been a delaying tactic from the start. Tomorrow we meet them. I am going to force them outside of Windia for this -- because I have the goods, I dictate the terms."
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| − | "And then, when they inevitably refuse, I will break the backbone of the Bishop's little army." Smirking lazily, almost malevolently, Selina licks her lips hungrily as she contemplates it. "He must be taught that fanatics do not make good soldiers or assassins, no matter how loudly they shout his name with reverence. Everyone must see. The Mask may decide to leave me be after hearing of it. A fine object lesson, is it not?"
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| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> Vorpal chuckles in her corner, her eyes still closed.
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| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "They are your people too, aren't they?" He looks at her, his gaze full of sympathy... of understanding.
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| − | "Try to lure them out. There is also whatever is making <i>Windian</i> refugees come in. Monsters on the countryside, you keep hearing of them... you remember hearing of them while we were coming here? When we saw the burnt temples of the Illuminated? Whatever is razing the countryside... you think we can stop it?"
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| − | <b>Domiel:</b> Domiel stares at the woman as if she were insane, then clears his throat delicately. "Hurrah and cheers to your confidence and all, madam, but need you be reminded these are the same people who managed to destroy an entire nation over night? I'm not entirely certain what your plan is, but claiming to tackle them all single handedly hardly seems the best start to things."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "I intend to annihilate all of his units in the locality. Every. Last. One."
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| − | "That's because I won't be alone." Selina replies simply. "Valencia won't be pinned down once the two in the city are dead...and, between myself, the Prince her, and Lilith, we should be able to clean up the shreds she leaves behind."
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| − | "As for my sanity..." The assassin shrugs and smiles. "We are all a little mad in our own ways, are we not?"
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| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "Listen to Gasper, Dark Angel... really, Whiteshield might be small, but my father had deals... Whiteshield was not weak, and they went through it like a hot knife through butter. I know that I cannot do this alone. Specially if at least some of our foes are like us... and you saw what those who aren't did to the Pale Angel. If we rush in..."
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| − | Vorpal frowns slightly at the mention of her defeat.
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| − | <b>Domiel:</b> "Ah..." he answers lamely, still staring at the Windian woman with healthy skepticism. Then, a moment later shrugs a bit too casually. "Yes... well, that we are, I suppose. Save that some are only so mad they speak to walls or mew like kittens. Those, I think, have it much better."
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| − | Reaching for his water glass, he drinks a little too quickly. It was one thing to listen to the Prince speak about heading back to reclaim his homeland. All this talk of war on the cities door step was making him nervous.
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Only in some cases." Selina states levelly, then looks at Vorpal. "I think Lilith, knows what the Lover wants in return for this deal, or will sometime soon."
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| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> "Abyssal Essence, only for the Blade", Vorpal says with a low voice, slowly, clearly. Her eye abruptly flickering open and responding to Selina's gaze with of her own, she adds: "And you do realize you are still under contract and are to obey the Lover's orders."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Am I...contradicting them?" Selina asks curiously, steepling her fingers and sniffing the air. "From what my contract <i>terms</i> were, I believe my current actions do not in any way impact those. I may even decide to bring her a little...<b>present</b>. I would need some soulsteel chains for that however."
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| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "Is there no way to ask her to.... wait?"
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| − | Even two against one wasn't making Alexander feel any better. A Deathlord broke his country, and that was a Deathlord living very, very far away from them. The one close by... was not to be angered, not lightly.
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| − | "I know that I have asked for much already... but... wouldn't it be good for her if we did it first? If she intends to have me...." He pauses.
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| − | Youth speaks. Lack of options. Something to regret later on.
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| − | The voice of youth, thinking one can tip-toe on the edge of a dagger, evading one's oaths.
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| − | "...Wouldn't she find better on the king of Whiteshield? Either of my sisters could hold the title of Queen... but one, I want to make sure is a queen in the great forks, very, very far away from here, and she has the other... so, it falls to me."
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| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> "Pfft." Vorpal seems rather... <i>amused</i> at Selina's performance. "Quit the hypocrite act, would you? You don't give a damn about your contract, or the boy's dreams."
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| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "If you want to think that, feel free." Selina shrugs, taking her water and having another sip of it. "That does not change my reasons. Suffice to say, the Lover should appreciate I am going through this trouble to destroy her enemies for her, instead of just running to her keep like a beaten dog."
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| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> "Fu." The Ghost-Blooded closes her eyes again and shifts a little, getting more comfortable in her chair. "That's precisely what she told you to do."
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| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Besides," She adds belatedly, a bit more glum. "We are trapped in Windia. Running will only get us run down. I imagine they can manage that if they catch us in the wild alone with Alex. In the south they like to put two scorpians in a bottle and have them fight until only one is left. That's us right now."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "So, next time you meet them.... is it not better if we prepare, then? When are you meeting them again?'
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| − | | |
| − | "Oh, and..." He smiles, "No one is ordering anyhing?"
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| − | | |
| − | <b>Domiel:</b> As the others debate over the matter, Domiel reaches forward and picks up the little silver bell, giving it a jingle to summon the waiter. The mood of the table had not killed is appetite yet and the others may have been content to subside on water and confidence, but his stomach was starting to gnaw at him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | With a sigh, he shifted in his seat, leaning against the arm with a fist under his chin. "What if you <i>fail</i> though, madam Nellens? Not to vandalize your astounding confidence, but what then? The boy will be down one protector and there will be nothing to show for it save a righteous blow to your... ah, reputation, not to mention possibly your life and the lives of many others. It seems much to risk simply to prove a point." His lips quirked into a smile, eyes just barely roaming downwards for a moment. "Unless you are hiding an army under your skirt, something which I would very much care to see if it holds true, you're still outnumbered considerably. Is now really the right time to make this battle?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Mmm, some food would do nicely, I suppose." Selina purrs, perking up a bit. "Perhaps something...substantial. I wonder what their meats are like..." The last sentence is a murmur as she trails off, looking at the menu.
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| − | | |
| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> "Like I said", Vorpal adds, with a hint of a smile that - with some imagination - could actually be called friendly, "I just dislike your attitude, Nellens."
| |
| − | | |
| − | She pauses for a moment to consider Domiel's words before responding in a more matter-of-fact tone of voice: "Actually, it is not quite so impossible as it might sound. It is true that we cannot take on the entire army, but on the other hand, we do not even have to."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Unfolding her arms and leaning forward, she continues: "An army is a great and cumbersome machine, Gasper. Greater numbers will only get into each other's way, orders will conflict, many will not even know who they are supposed to be fighting against. It will move slowly, whereas a small party of hit-and-run skirmishers - in this case, us - moves nimbly and without hesitation. With skill, luck and a very good timing, it is possible for a small band to lob off the head of a great army..." It is at this point she pauses again, to give a further effect for her last words,
| |
| − | | |
| − | "...and still get out of there alive."
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| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Exactly." She says, scanning the menu still, one wing perked up a bit behind her as she begins to feel hungrily just by thinking of food. "Without their deathknights and commanders, the troops are so much dross and flotsam."
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| − | | |
| − | <b>Domiel:</b> The Ashing Dove looks back and forth between the two women for a moment, before shrugging and sighing. "Well, you would know better than me, I am sure. I'm just a humble minstrel, oh decedent maidens of death. I'm just glad I won't be a part of it" he shoots a look across the table at Alex. His tone is serious, though his expression is anything but. "Are you <i>sure</i> you won't just come with me instead though? A lazy season at my family's estate and in the arms of the Queen of Emerald Roses <i>has</i> to be a better way to spend your exile than chasing armies. These two are bound to get you killed."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Domiel:</b> "Oh, so <i>that</i> is what you two have been talking about", Vorpal mumbles and reaches out with her hand to pluck another menu from the table. Leaning back in her chair again, she begins to go through the dishes herself, the fingers of her free hand absently drumming her knee.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Alas, my contract dictates otherwise for now." Selina declines graciously, eyes settling on the 'river dragon steak' on the menu, and then coming off to peer at the others. "Although I'm sure Lilith would look ravishing in a ballroom gown."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> "You'd be surprised", Vorpal throws back surprisingly mildly, favoring the Dark Angel only with a quick, absent glance over the menu before returning to the task at hand.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> Alexander giggles, then looks up.... "No, this is what I have to do. I wish I could meet your family and the Summer Circle, but... no. Just take my brother and Millia there, and keep them safe." He smiles. "Sorry to impose this much on you, really..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He turns to all of them, "Any River Dragon dish, with any of the parts. is too much for only one of us, so anyone want to share mine with me, and help me choose?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Domiel:</b> "As his highnesses wishes," Domiel flutters in dramatic defeat. "Just try to be sure to come visit before you're dead, not after. It would put a damper on the mood."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Domiel picks up his menu for a moment and takes a cursory glance over it before tossing it back onto the table, having already decided to simply order the river trout some time ago. Too many fanciful dishes on the menu for his sensitive tastes. "I had actually been curious about that myself. What miss Lilith might look like in a gown." He tips his head to take a better look at the mercenary. "You don't strike me as the type to dress up over often. Even coming to a fine establishment like this. Is there any event to give you cause to impress the world with style and grace or must you remain the eternally ready and professional warrior?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "I'd like a...steak, from the river dragon." Selina replies, looking at the menu again. "Rare would be perfectly fine."
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| − | | |
| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "Rare?" He pouts. "Awww, I am not sharing with you, then. I like well done. Dislike when the meat leaves red all over my plate!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | "There is one here that seems to be a Lookshy delicacy, it's noted under that it is best served rare... soldiers." He shrugs. "No taste..."
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| − | | |
| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> "Like I said", the Ghost-Blooded responds, making her own pick of spiced poultry and flicking the menu back to the table. "You'd be surprised. I used to do it once in a while, when I still had a court which go to..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | After a moment of reminiscence, she shrugs and adds with a snicker: "I do not know which shocked them more, that I flashed them a leg or that a war commander was dressing like a court lady. Military and dresses do not mix very well in most people's minds."
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| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "In the nobility they do." Selina demures, remembering for a moment. "Valencia was never much of a prig during balls. I always wonder how many duels her husband fought."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> "Sounds like she was two different persons between duty and balls.", says Vorpal.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Domiel:</b> "Mmm... perhaps the both of you would be pleased to attend to a ball at my families home, once you finish smiting the armies of the undead. Miss Lilith to prove the world wrong about the sophistication of the soldiery and madam Nellens to show we poor country folk how it's truly done."
| |
| − | | |
| − | The invitation and courtesy make the time fly until the food is served, drinks half-spent on the table already...
| |
| − | | |
| − | The warmth rises on the candle-lit private chamber of the restaurant, the chatter more amiable between them than it had been in some time.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "You were in a court? What was it like? I heard of you, but really, all I know is the name and that you are a 'scary military type'. Always assumed the way you carry yourself was because of being a Chosen..." He asks Vorpal.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> The warmth of the chamber having made Vorpal toss the hood to her back again, the Ghost-Blooded goes through her meal silenty, offering little to the conversation unless spoken to first. Despite of this and the fact that she is sitting a little apart from the others, however, she seems to be in a mellow enough mood.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I wasn't always a Chosen", she replies, matter-of-factly, her voice calm as she throws a glance at Alex over the rim of her water cup. After taking a sip and setting the drink back to the table, she continues: "But have always been a Ghost-Blooded. I've died twice during my life now, and the first time was the moment I was born."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Turning to look over the table at the opposite wall, she remains silent and thoughtful for a moment before adding: "I didn't visit the court too often. Only to remind some people there that I existed. My kind wasn't regarded very warmly in such places, which made it all the more <i>fun</i>..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "...or so I thought at that time, at least", she finishes with a shrug and resumes eating.
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| − | | |
| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "Ghost..." He says, impressed, trying to imagine...
| |
| − | | |
| − | <i>She was... like this, before.</i>
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| − | | |
| − | <i>The child of a wraith, a black-winged kinslayer... so, that is what it takes?</i>
| |
| − | | |
| − | <i>What that makes of Carina...?</i>
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| − | | |
| − | He thinks while he chews on some River Dragon meat, taking a bite of a warm peach warmed with it.. with the mood already... <i>strange</i> after Vorpal's comment, he continues, "What happened then? They decided to cast you out?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Domiel:</b> "Unwelcome or chose not to be welcome?" Picking at the steaming plate of fish set in front of him with a long handled fork. "Really, miss Lilith, I have never known soldiers to be unwelcome in court, save when they insist upon doing all they kind to remind the room that they are soldiers."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Pausing, the Ashing Dove stirs a sliver of meat through a creamy sauce before raising it to his mouth and savoring the bite with a look of relish. "Mmm really, those who learned the difference between a ball room and parade ground were always welcome. Just the ones who brought their swords to the door and hit their boots bellow their skirts tended to be outcast from the crowd."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "But then, they were <i>trying</i> to be a world apart, instead of enjoying the night as it had been intended."
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| − | | |
| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> "It was not <i>exactly</i> that kind of welcome I had in mind, minstrel", the Ghost-Blooded says somewhat dryly, her knife and fork working to separate a wing from the spiced poultry dish on her plate. "It does not matter how nicely you dress and dance if half of the court is scared to death of you, and the other half plots to cast you out of the way for good. If the fundamental nature of your being is <i>different</i> from others, you will never, ever, blend in."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Vorpal pauses, reflecting on her own words. "Cast out?" She chuckles. "You could say that. More accurately, they tried to assassinate me... with an army, never mind that they trampled every single member of my Brigade to the ground just to get me. That's when I died the second time."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Thus is the fate of a soldier no longer needed." Selina says, slicing a piece of her steak off, eating a dainty bite of it. "Mother always said being a soldier was not a path to be pursued as one's first choice."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> <i>I didn't ask to become one.</i>Vorpal shrugs mentally at the thought and focuses her attention to the meal at hand, the pain of old memories snuffed out with practiced ease.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "At least it's honest reason for killing and pillaging. What's your excuse?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> Domiel's hand hovered half way to his open mouth, locked in tableau as he stared at the ghost-blooded woman with a look of growing... disgust. At length, he sighed, letting the fork fall back onto his plate as he reached for his wine glass.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Good heavens, but you're dull," he moaned in exasperation. "No wonder they didn't make you welcome, if you twist every conversation into a chance to spew nonsense about death and murder. I have no idea which courts you were in that they so pussy-footed around the dangerous ones or who gave them cause to fear. That would be half the guest list at any of my father's parties. And heaven save Windia if that was the practice here," he laughed softly against the edge of his wine glass. "Relations would crumble in minutes."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "The dangerous ones," The Windian purrs, swirling red wine about in its glass before sipping a bit, eyes half-lidded. "Are the best once you get...beyond what makes them dangerous. In many things." Putting the glass down and spearing another cut piece of her steak, she slides that into her mouth with an almost theatrical flair. "Everyone likes dallying with a god. It's a challenge."
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| − | | |
| − | <b>Vpráç:</b> "You're annoying me again", Vorpal states absently, not looking up from her plate.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "But Gasper", she speaks again after a moment, pausing to move a little piece of chicken into her mouth, chewing and swallowing gracefully before continuing: "Your music is beautiful. There is something... magical about it that makes people enjoy themselves. It makes them alive, and spend the evening to its fullest without a whit of concern for what will happen to morrow."
| |
| − | | |
| − | She waggles a fork in Domiel's direction and says: "I think it is an amazing ability. I wish there were more people with that sort of a talent in this world."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "In short", she finishes and fishes herself another piece of chicken from the plate, "I don't laugh at your way of life. Don't laugh at mine."
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| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Looking at Vorpal flatly, Selina snorts. "There is nothing magical or wonderful about war, that is the difference."
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| − | | |
| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> "Oh, really?" Vorpal smiles, obviously amused at Selina's words. "Have you ever been in one?"
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| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "One or two minor wars." Selina replies simply, taking a sip of her wine again. "As a contracted...specialist. Miserable affairs, those. I was brought up to accept that I would have to lead troops to battle in the future as well, but...that gives me no more taste for the dullness and repetition that is warfare. <i>Killing</i>, now, that is everything about a battle that sharpens a predatory spirit, with none of the dross that comes with the latter."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Domiel:</b> "Well, I thank you kindly for your compliment, but disagree with your point. I didn't laugh at your way of life, miss Lilith, I laughed at your approach to the society I can say with some certainty I've flittered through a good deal more than you have."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Taking another healthy sip from his wine glass, the Changeling set it aside and leaned his elbows onto the table, steepling his fingers under his chin. He smiled calmly, heavy-lidded and lazy. "Do you think they welcomed someone of <i>my</i> lineage with open arms here? Wyld-born <i>and</i> provincial? A double blow! But then, I played the game by their rules and did not try to foist my own upon them. You were only <i>asking</i> for what you received, if you appeared at every affair with the intent to take great pleasure in frightening everyone present. And that, my beautiful ghost-woman, was what I laughed at."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> "In other words, you haven't really been in one", the Ghost-Blooded shrugs and takes a sip from her glass of water. "People don't go to wars for pleasure, young lady. Whether it is pleasant or not, someone has to do it. Because if nobody does, this precious Windia of yours would have been crushed under enemy feet ages ago."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "I never said they weren't necessary or fought for pleasure, now did I? I would go to war again if I had to." The assassin demures again. "But making it your entire world? Why, pray tell?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> "Nor did I say it encompasses my entire world. But think what you will", Vorpal shrugs and moves to the second wing of her poultry. She aims one last glance in Gasper's direction and adds: "It's hardly worth the effort to whine about what has been done in the past."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Slicing through a piece of her steak and lifting the tidbit to her mouth, she sighs. "You act like it does."
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| − | | |
| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> The prince finishes chewing on some more meat, savoring it as he hears.. and learns. "We will be in one soon, won't we? See it right up front... well, least three of us. Suppose you are lucky, Gasper! Though so are we, to have Lilith with us" He smiles.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "But when will be going? Early morning, the day after tomorrow? All of us, and we split at the gates, Gasper?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <i>Take good care of my little brother...</i>
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Now, we are like caged scorpions, as Adrianna pointed out... you will meet them tomorrow, won't you? What do you intend to do then, exactly?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Shrugging, Selina pops the morsel into her mouth and chews on it, then swallows and responds. "I will give them my demands, outside of the city of course. And then when they refuse, I will probably kill them."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Domiel:</b> "And yet you did," he blinks at her comment, then tosses it away with a flick of his fingers. "Suppose I'll never understand the reasoning of the military... but may please change the topc of conversation? War and violence may thrill some people, but I'd prefer to talk about the quality of the food or the wine first."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "Aren't they inside the city, though? How will you lure them out?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "They have agents." Selina says simply, sweeping her glance about the room as she checks the people with her essence sight. "I'm sure they'll come after us once we leave. It's you they want more, not Windia."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Domiel:</b> He looked forlorn as Alex brought the matter back up almost with the same breath Domiel had tried to dismiss it. A plea in vain. Some shadows loomed to large to stay out of.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "No, I don't suppose I will be lucky..." he mutters to no one in particular, picking at his meal. The appetite seemed to have rather suddenly leave him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Leaning over to Vorpal, Selina whispers "Ghost watching us." in her ear in as quiet a pitch as she can.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> Vorpal does not look up, but silently she activates the innate power of her ghostly heritage.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "I suppose.... I will have to borrow you from Windia then, Duchess. I will need you to be on the lookout for them, to be subtle, to spy on them." He says, pulling his silverly hair, flame-hued under the candlelight, the full circle of the sun appearing in his brow for a fleeting moment. "Because I will not be." He smiles. "After me, people will rally. Me and Lilith, we can handle them out in the open. You are our shadow..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Vórpal:</b> Moving calmly, Vorpal sets the knife onto the table, as if to free her right hand for a sip of water.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Her hand rises, already moving towards the glass, but then she abruptly drops it to the hilt of her sword. In a single, blinding-swift motion she draws the weapon, the black blade whirling a full circle above her head before blurring down in the direction of the wall to her left...
| |
| − | | |
| − | The ghost, the spy, notices the move. Trained, he had been trained on it, to notice their movements, to read people... but too fast, these movements. He tried to vansih into the wall, to disappear from sight, a feeling moving away from Vorpal, a collection of red veins of Essence trying to vanish into the wall....
| |
| − | | |
| − | But not fast enough, as the wall sends it to Oblivion, scattering its Corpus without so much as touching the restaurant's wall...
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> Alexander looks at the scene wide-eyed. "Seems like Gasper was right.... you do take these everywhere! What was this about?!?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> "We had a...naughty little watcher." Selina purrs, leaning back and taking another bite of her steak.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> Immediately does Vorpal yank Mournful Kiss back again, the blade letting out a quiet moan as the Essence it stole flows out from its hilt and down the Ghost-Blooded's arm to replenish her own stores. She whirls the sword above her head, in the direct opposite to what she did when she launched the attack a moment ago, and slides the weapon back to its sheath. All this, with the fork still in her left hand.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Exorcism complete", she mutters, and continues her meal.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "Glad you are on our side..." Alex says, the memories of her cutting through hordes of the dead coming back to him, and yet, that blade seeming so... out of place, here!
| |
| − | | |
| − | "´...but now, I really really want to see you in a courtly gown!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> "Maybe once we're out of the constant danger of either being spied upon or assaulted every possible opportunity", Vorpal responds and reaches for the glass of water... for real, this time.<i>This is the reason why we're lugging these blades around to any place... did you realize it yet?</i>
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I'd prefer to just no see her with a sword..." Domiel chimes in softly, eyes still wide from the sudden display of force. It had been all he could not to throw himself away from the table at Vorpal's flurry of motion and even now, his chair shifted ever so slightly away from the cold Abyssal. He managed a weak smile. "At least I can understand just why they were... hesitant to accept your company on the dance floor."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Unless they like danger. I was always told women like danger... think some men do so too! Must be... an interesting feeling, to hear the rattling of a Daiklave during it."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Selina De Windia:</b> Giving the two men a dry, flat look, Selina coughs slightly. "You know, she may seem a bit dry sometimes, but there is a reason we carry weapons about. And it isn't because we have them as lovers."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Domiel:</b> Draining the scarlet liquid still lingering in the bottom of his wine glass, the Ashing Dove manages to achieve at least a semblance of relaxation again. A warm face again, a breathy sigh as the boy so graciously brings up something far more dear to his heart than war.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Danger need only go so far as perception to be enjoyable, Alex," he smiles at the prince "Mmm... there are women you'll meet whose voice and nature make it seem as though they would eat you alive and make you savor every moment of it..." There is a glance towards Selina as he speaks, deliberate and gauging, yet he makes no other implications towards her. "These, you'll find too, often enjoy being prey as much as predator and if you ever need violence for your thrills, seek it from them."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Then there are those like miss Lilth," a nod of his head and a teasing smile. "Who are frightening because you can never be certain if their smile means they are mildly irritated or if they are envisioning ripping out your spine and bludgeoning you to death with it."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Alex Holysword:</b> "Actually, that was said of you both at least once.... well, not that I don't know they were wrong." He replies to Selina, remembering how she offered herself to the Pale Angel in the woods... as he listens to Domiel, and laughs. "Oh, I don't think she is that bad. She would just use the chair to do it!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Vorpal:</b> "Why the bludgeon part?" Vorpal asks, and although she seems outwardly nonplussed at Gasper's words, in the inside she is maintaining a careful control over her face, to keep her lips from curling upwards. "I usually just leave them to wither - it lasts longer that way."
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| − | | |
| − | ----
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| − | | |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FirstMovement|First Movement]]
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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