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Post by Joliette Thorne on Jun 8, 2007 2:38:20 GMT -5
Kasyr drifted in from the twilit world outside, his entrance having a slightly dramatic flair to it- chill breeze ruffling the fur trimmed trenchcoat he normally sported and tossing up the black scarf loosely curled about his neck one final time before the entirety of his being was 'safely' inside, as safe as one might consider this particular tavern anyways. The tiefling hadn't exactly been here in a while, mostly having strayed to the place he could leech the most emotions from, however this particular night he'd followed an impulse, and that very same impulse led him to take a seat nearby the woman he'd come to know as Joli "Bonne Soir, Joli- Or something as close to a good eve, or matinee, that you could have-"
Tenebrae rolled over on her couch by the fire, with the lethargy one might expect from a sunbathing leopard seal, one eyebrow arced too high to give her apparent chagrin anything more than a fervently comical look. "Oh." Her lower lip trembled slightly. "Though you were himself, come lookin' for me." She sighed. "Not that it's likely, now he's got a shipful of ... Oh!" She struggled upright to lean on one hand, her torso swaying so that the tips of her hair brushed the velvet seat below.
Darian set his shuffle to the varnished, gleaming beacon of a countertop. He kept his chin against his chest and his eyes darting about the planks of the floor, as if assessing the number of nails driven that he would pass over. His soft-soled feet stamped their impressions in the filmy dust along the floor, and his thoughts manifested their sway in apoplectic, shivering grimaces. When he found a stool a gilt coin was hurled easefully from his right fingers, teeth-marks interpolating their glint as the coinage shifted through the air, before it smacked Steadmen in the eye. "You Know What I Want."
Tenebrae said, "'Ello Kasyr, it's you, pet, and remarkably grand it is to have you.. Oh oh!"
Tenebrae said, "And if it isn't 'Is Majesty." She gesticulated toward the bar, flappily. "Looky, Kas. I'm not --utterly-- bereft, after all."
Kasyr inclined his head to one side, altogether looking relaxed save whatever bit of tension is taken in the care given to his side, gloved fingers brushing over the wound, though~ unnaturally enough it was looking a few degrees better- though his coat was still as worse for the wear as ever. "Didn't mean, to get your hopes up at ..all?" He paused, gaze roving in the direction the vampiress indicates with her movements, familiarity gnawing at the back of his head, somewhere close to the hissing and a headache forming. "...Tender- Vessels. I think that was vous." The statement was quiet, but the one it was directed to in particular was indeed Darian, were it even understood.
Tenebrae grinned, and waved to Darian. Flappily.
Kasyr said to Tenebrae, "There is moi, and him- I suppose that isn't so bad, Cheri- er, was the oh him? Ou something else?"
Darian taps and grunts in what could very well be a recognition or greeting of some primordial sort. Either way, the bartop's nails were mercilessly numbered by his pupils.
Tenebrae poked a forefinger toward Kasyr's chest. "Well, 'oh' was vous, and 'oh oh' was ... Moi? Er.. tu?" She jabbed him with her fingertip, irritatedly. "You and your silly language. Sounds like you're talking with a mouthful of bread. Will you stay, and have drinks with me?"
Tenebrae added, "And the 'oh oh' was him, over there.."
Kasyr resisted the rather overpowering urge to speak doubly so in that particular dialect which seemed to confuse most, instead endeavouring towards tones more refined, something rarely done these days given his state of mind, but still. "I See, I think. You’re catching on though, Joli, most people are utterly." Egads was he trying not to stumble, if she thought the dialect was like talking with bread in his mouth, trying to think purely in common with a cacophony of snakes playing a chorus in your head -was- murder "Incorrigibly clueless, Oui." He supposed that was close enough to fully common, or something. "I'll stay though, haven't.. haven't had much time to relax much- too many problems"
Darian threshed his fingers through the caked threadbare of his lapels, stroke his overlong fingernails at his temples, stood in vanishing shift into nothingness, and listened as the liquorless bottle wafted and billowed the stagnant, overused airs of the room and crashed above Monsieur Kasyr's scalp, imbedding various bits. In moments he had occluded at the side of Joli, and kissed her hand with numbingly chill lips, before lifting her bottle from her side and returning to his ever-arduous duty of swilling and enumerating rivets in varnish.
Tenebrae turned her back on Kasyr, abruptly, and -- grabbing up a bottle -- swung her legs over the side of the chaise, grappling with the backrest to ensure a steady gain to metallic heels. Once fully upright, she teetered around the long seat, knocking five or six empty rum bottles over in the process, and made her way around to where he was sitting. "Would you like a rum?" The crash of glass had her glance up, distracted so far that the sudden coolth on the back of her hand, the firm touch of unwarm fingers against her own, was not acknowledged immediately. By the time she turned about to discern the cause, she was bottle-less, and kissed. "Hmmm." She walked, as best she could in tight dress, six-inch heels and enough alcohol to fell an ox, to the bar, and stood behind the clearly pre-occupied Darian, coughing loudly. "Ahem-- seems I've lost my drink, Your Majesty. Wondered if I might share yours?"
Kasyr impulsively ducks his head down, eyes cast downwards to avoid any further trauma to his vision then needs occur in any length of time. Still, the resulting shower of glass ends of in his hair, a particularly obnoxious gift which keeps giving, as endeavours to brush out the fragments only result in some getting further embedded in the tumultuous mess of hair "...Merde. I suppose nothing to be done- So, Were tu...you not so busy, I'd be honoured to take you up on that offer." He was courteous enough, given the small amount of discord that had come to pass- but then again, this was something he was seeming to be inundated with on a common basis- talk about jaded.
Tenebrae said to Kasyr, "Oh, not busy a bit, sweetness. Do join us over here, and I'll listen at length to your woes, for no doubt some day..." Here, she emits a loud hiccup. "No doubt you will be forced to hear mine."
Darian said, "What a remarkably fascinating conception of stolen goods ... It's a most lamentable shame pedestrians oft have trouble seeing such views in the eye. I daresay a sod 'losing' his cache would ring a great deal better than the steely clash of hilts entailed by me stealing it."
Kasyr smirked wryly, rather enjoying Darian's rather lovely collection of words upon that subject, a barely suppressed snicker coming from him as he gingerly lifts himself out of the chair, a few stray shards of glass dislodged from his being to clatter upon the ground. Towards Joli, he couldn't help but maintain some slight degree of politeness, albeit his good cheer "Cheri, would you decide today, was the day- I'd lend an ear. As it were, I fancy a drink over complaining, Vraiment."
Tenebrae smirked softly, stepping around the chair to face Darian. "Were I clash anything with you, pet, I'd far prefer it isn't to be steel of any sort." She would claim his bottle brazenly, by wrapping her fingers about its neck, blithe smile curling the corners of her lips, which curved like caterpillar husks drying in the sun.
Darian flips his bottle-neck into his fingers and makes it whirl in ceiling-scrape from and to his palm. With a lackluster concession he lobs this second emptied vessel over his shoulders to come down in a shimmer through the iridescent emanations of candlewicks toward the frame of one Joli. "However - Share away, my dear, share away."
Tenebrae swivelled her torso, so she half-faced Kasyr, rumpled black hair covering the left hemisphere of her face. "Rum it is, and rue to follow. But quid pro quo, Kasyr, I'll swap you trouble for trouble." She grinned. "It's only fair." Tenebrae , thus distracted, was thunked in the head by a rum bottle. Shortly thereafter, she was on the floor.
Kasyr blinks, something of a wince evoked by that particular train of events, not exactly sure of what had come to pass until the empty rum bottle clatters noisily against the ground, an idle rotation observed before he came back into the present. "Sacre Bleu, Cheri, I think you just gained one more trouble there-" The tone was more matter of factly then mirthful, followed by an action of a more helpful aspect, hunching over with hand extended towards the woman so as to help her to her feet. "...Still, I can live with that agreement, So..."
Tenebrae would respond, but had been thunked in the head by a rum bottle, and rendered temporarily insensible.
Kasyr said to, Tenebrae "You know, you'd always struck me as a little more...hardheaded then this."A slight tip of the head, though the outstretched hand remained. "From what I saw anyways, guess it wasn't literal, oui?"
Darian chuckled and made headway in bruising Steadmen's second set of eyelids with another glimmering toss of coinage. "If it should pass that I find myself without liquor before me once before the breaking of day, then I shall find myself beating you to the brink of death, robbing your grimy, feral scented hovel of every bedamned ounce of gold it might possess, and then pouring it down your throat to see if businessmen truly love gold to death, as I have heard so frequently." Once more, the outstretched hand was ignored, though not through any -inability- of perception, this time, the vampiress coming to just in time to hear Darian's overt threat to Steadman. Rather than let on she was in possession of her faculties, she spent a moment gathering her wits with her body left supine, eyes closed. She judged and calculated distances by sound, estimations placed helped along by a furtive cracking open of one eyelid to study the rungs of the King of Road's barstool briefly. Then, in a solitary and whiplash motion, she drew her legs up to her chest and kicked out as hard as she could -- those vicious, honed heels headed for the struts supporting Darian's chair. Let's see how -he- liked being on the floor, hm? It was after that delivery she finally consented to take Kasyr's hand, and rose with his assistance, and as much grace as she could muster in the circumstance.
Tenebrae said to Kasyr, "I'm fairly certain this rum will cause me to be violently ill, at some point."
Kasyr noted her particular efforts with a bit of amusement, a subtle shake of his head the most and least he had to offer as an opinion to that chain of events before he focused altogether upon Tenebrae. Once she was to her feet, he dips his head once in her particular direction, before moving to relinquish the grasped hand. "I suppose I owe tu a problem, and ...I didn't know a vampyr could be poisoned beyond Dragons blood."
Darian tumbled with fervid abruptness upon the chair being shiftily displaced from beneath him. In his backward roll, however, he happened to enamour the trajectory of his tumble so as he might re-emerge from his shunting with a sumersault-esque motion to stand loomingly before Kasyr and the clasped hand of Joli. He took said hand, and pulled her to the barstool. "I'm afraid the liquor hasn't so beseeched me to 'lose' my faculties as it has yourself. Sit. Drink. Chatter. Leave me be." Tenebrae does as told, for once, and used a pointed toe to sweep at one of Darian's calves. Were he to oblige the laws of physics and become seated himself, she'd enact a hasty turn, and come to land her behind on his lap. At which point, again, obligingly, she'd slap the bar thrice by way of ordering that many more bottles of rum, and say to Kasyr, "Ah, but flesh is flesh, and subject to certain rules of physical experience. Vampires are not immune to steel, and nor are immune to the wasting effects of alcohol, if imbibed in sufficient amounts." Were Darian not to oblige, though, the outcome might be entirely different. Darian obliges.
Tristram enters the tavern, a scattering of dead leaves accompanying a fluid gait. The man moves without hesitation towards the bar, depositing a few shiny bits of currency upon the counter top before requesting a beverage. Once received, he cants a polite nod and turns so that he might scan any others in attendance of the sleepy tavern's evening festivities. Ebon-flecked optics flicker over the assembled, while he remains aloof, and stationed reclusively at the bar.
Kasyr slowly started towards the stool next to the pair, the process of coming to a comfortable and eased position halted for a few seconds as a familiar sensation eats at the back of his mind, a foulness that was like a bath of maggots- writhing wickedly. He glances, oft to the source, expression growing rather unpleasent before the facade of cheer is summoned and he finishes the act he was started, trying his best to address tenebrae with an even tone "The more I know et all, I suppose. Problems, to start with though, er, not sure. At all, Non."
Tenebrae had rather depleted the supply of rum, so it was the cloudy vodka of the drow which was served, one bottle to each of the three inhabitants Tristram would find gathered about the bar. "Problems, aye," Joli sighed softly, her fingers wrapping to the neck of her bottle, raising it to lips parted to allow white teeth to seize the cork. A downward tug had it pop free, a puffed breath sent it bouncing on the polished bar. She resumed speech, after a long swig. "I don't know who I am, have no home to speak of, have lost everything I held dear, or loved to hate, and my only current purpose is to keep this place, as a base for my... enterprises." The list complete, she leant back gently. "And I'm fairly certain there'll be somebody along, sooner or later, who'll object to my reclamation of it." Darian said, "Well I certainly object to your being here, though your reclamation is a thing indifferent to me. As you -are- here, however, and your reclamation has indeed persisted over these premises, then I more wholesomely object to your patronage of my lap and an establishment filled with flavorless wights and void of any pianos with benches for my to drunkenly itch keys upon."
Tristram settles himself upon one of the stools, attention drifting back to the barkeep and the wares he peddles. A coin left abandoned upon the counter is captured and toyed with, dancing over skilled digits, balancing on bony knuckles. He can't help but overhear the conversation carried on so close to his current location, and were he capable of an emotion resembling shame, he wouldn't feel it then. It was their fault for being too damn close anyway. Shifting so he faces the trio, the dark druid lofts a brow while interrupting, "Enterprises, eh? I consider myself to be a man of enterprise as well, m'dove." The corners of his lips twitch, betraying a smile driven more by amusement, than any sort of affection. "Spare an old man an introduction?"
Kasyr forgets Tristram for all of a few moments, a few errant chortles erupting from betwixt barely parted lips regardless how hard he tries to suppress them. Still, he 'sobers' from that particular incident well and quick enough, if only to get on with the uncorking of his particular drink, proceeding to drain it rather ravenously in an attempt to meet an end to his current state of in-inebriation. "...Let's see, oui? I'm dabbling in the affairs of godlings, I can't sleep, I'm either crazy ~Ou~ if I'm not my swords cursed et hates me....and then there’s the woman trouble and people trying to kill me, but that’s normal...I think, Bien sur. Its not different anyways." Tenebrae smiled softly and arranged her comfort in Darian's lap. "A piano, I will endeavour to find. But my position in your lap is fitting punishment for the indignity of both myself and my barkeep." She tried to sound indignant, and failed, the chuckle rising in her throat putting paid to that. "But yes, I can do my best to arrange a piano. Grand..." She half-turned, to speak the next as a gentle breath on his pallid cheek. "As is fitting a King." The voice of Tristram brought her round again to face the bar, another wriggle sufficient to regain her former comfort. Peridot eyes scoured the stranger's frame, keen observations made, judgement passed on what was presented. "Yes, enterprises. Name your skills, and allegiances, if any, and I'll see what we can find for you to do." She looked to Kasyr, but was drawn back to the gaze of inky eyes by his last request. "I'll leave the others to speak for themselves. But as for me, they call me..." She bit the last word off, sharply. "My name is Joliette, of the Bloody Wire, or so my Garath titled me in my youth. Might an old man return the courtesy, then?" Kasyr, at last was cast a sympathetic look, almost entirely genuine. "As for you, surely the company you currently keep cannot be good for you, if it cause so much distress." She smirked. "My offer stands open, Kas. Does it become any more enticing, for all your woes?"
Tristram muffles a bellicose laugh so that it emerges as only a pleasant chuckle, smoky-grey optics sparkling with mirth. "Ahh. But my lady. Alliances are not won by putting one side to work, or," a lip curls in disgust, " ... finding something for one to do." A hand is swept towards the exit, as he boasts, "Gualon is mine. More cities will fall. And regrettably, dove, my allegiance is to mine, and mine own." A momentary pause elapses, before the draconic male dips into a courteous bow, almost as an afterthought. "And I go by Tristram Darkeheart to most. You'll just have to stay in the dark regarding my skills, m'dove, for I rarely lay all my cards down at once. Now, let's hear of the skills such a pretty poppet such as yourself possesses, mm?" A furitive glance is stolen in Kasyr's direction, recognition and warning playing within his black-flecked stare before his attention ultimately returns to the vampiress and her current lap of occupation.
Tenebrae 's features settled to a stoic and blase mien, as she took in Tristram's speech. "So, you are the new swamp-master, eh? By default, or so the grapevine has it. Still, by noble battle won, or no, if the land is yours, then you are welcome to it. Myself, I'm happy being a simple barmaid." Her wink was salubrious. "And I'm rather good at pouring ale without flattening the foam. And..." She inclined her head politely. "If you're not about the business of finding work, it escaped me as to why you'd hint at finding some, as you did. Unless, you know, you were clumsily fishing for information. Or the alligators and orcs aren't providing you enough entertainment." His glance to Kasyr did not pass beneath her notice.
Darian is ensorceled the tidal resurgence of years upon years - They lay there, upon his brow, deadening into necrotic furrows, which timorously shift at the sounding of one Joliette's hitherto unknown name. Dead words came from dead lips, bearing the crest of dead memories upon the boss of their shields. As the echoic ignominy resounds, and all that can be heard is the distant pulsation of those words: "Meet me where the moon greets the dew, and the tide rises...", it is Darkness there, and nothing more.
Kasyr did just about everything he could to avoid sneering at Tristram, instead deciding to content himself with a fixed glower at the side of the mans head as though it might bore a hole through his head. Stranger things had happened, so maybe one could hope. Even still, a response was granted to Joli, however vague "Theres a large possibility, Cheri, that after a time, be it the morrow, or shortly thereafter, I might just take tu up, on that particular option, that honour."
Tristram is ever so enthralled by such a clever answer. With a coy wink, he intones, "I like to make 'em fight each other. Good sport, that. The city has its advantages, make no mistake. One must start somewhere, mm?" He scrutinizes her for a moment before allowing a languid grin to stretch across bow lips. "Fishing, mayhaps. I'm not above seeking someone who can provide a service through means not necessarily entirely legitimate. I have plenty of work, m'dove, but few acquaintance of any sway, of any importance. A captive mayor. A few townspeople. No one to hold any clout, as they say. And I do hate to have to kill more to make my name known among the masses. A necessary evil, truly, but one I like to avoid when possible." Another pause, the moment taken to scratch idly at his chin. "I must away. Matters of pressing issue take precedent to such charming company, I'm afraid. If you find yourself in need of something you feel I can offer you, feel free to leave a post. I'll be more than receptive to one as pleasant to look upon as yourself." A roguish grin is offered as he turns to leave, skittering a few more coins atop the bar to pay for the next round of drinks in his absence. "I'm easily found, and if not, my daughter Logan acts in my stead." The assortment of dead leaves that accompanied him into the tavern scatter with a sudden gust as he exits, remaining to litter the tavern floor in his wake.
Tenebrae said, "What a complete ponce..."
Kasyr said, "He bothers me, its something in the air around him"
Tenebrae said, "That'd be the alligator poo." She chuckled, rose from her seat and leant to the bar. "I have my left hand. And I have my right, and neither need know what the other is doing. I do have a feeling, however, that they might one day come to clap together resoundingly around that man's fat head, producing a satisfying 'pop'."
Kasyr touchs a finger to his cheek and simply smiles, in a fashion glad of her answer. As though he meant those emotions he could read off people, well, the mental image was funny enough and from what his opinion was forming- something rather deserved. "Just make sure to clean your hands after, vous never can know where someone like him has been."
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Post by Joliette Thorne on Jun 8, 2007 2:39:41 GMT -5
Darian gripped Joliette by the slim and bloodless neck, despite its gentle lolling in an inebriated fashion atop her spine with each jaw-stroke of conversation, and slung her from his locus to the floor. The memorial corpses still furrowed on his brow, as prairie wastes struck and rent by the pull of ill-sowing iron, the stool beneath him was raised and plummeted to her shoulder. No sense bent towards his connect, nothing about his target any longer envisioned, he hurtled the varnished counter and viperally slipped a duo of fingers into the oesophagus of Steadmen - paralyzing and asphyxiating him in a single motion as an opaque and thickly resilient bottle crashed with a full thud on Steadmen's kneecap, the sound of a sinewy corpse striking the water from a sheer cliff-face hanging as a pall on the moment while the barkeep fell. The bottle's resilience was tested over and over and over, with each rise, and each fall, clambering the foolish being closer to his Death's brink. The foggy glass reddened itself with its succinct and repetitious arc through the long hours' wizened and chilly airs. No more groans came from the formless lump of a being on the floor. As his muscles stilled, Darian considered just how long it might take for a hastily formed militia of rats to assembled and finish what he had begun. Flick of the wrist, smile and a nod, a bag of gold lifted from the recesses below the countertop and dangled above the wretch's lips. "I Told You, Fool. The Dawn Is Not Yet Broken, and with bottles all drained of blood before my perch, I'm afraid my only option is to drain you, now isn't it?"
Tenebrae said to Darian, "Halt." She was half-risen, when he'd tossed her aside like so much chaff, and thus escaped falling entirely by virtue of the bar's edge, one hand snatching at the wood's rim. Raising herself, she vaulted - with all the elegance of a hamstrung wildebeest, as rum would have it - across the bar to fling herself between bloodied man and the vagrant she'd become unfetchingly attached to. "I need him. And besides, you have a better feast awaiting, Majesty, than this diseased swine."
Kasyr seemed rather perturbed, or perhaps disturbed the better term, by those sudden turn of events. Having risen to his feet, the guardian did the only thing that came to his mind upon this particular instance, leaning heavily against the edge- peering intently upon the exchange. In the end, it was neither some altruistic desire, nor what naive views he clung to that kept him so close at hand- but rather a more predominant and morbid sense of curiosity, spurred by that display of brutality and its aftermath.
Kasyr said, "The Hell?"
Darian chuckles.
Darian said, "If I am not to drink of him, then shall he drink of gold? Shall I incize his arteries open and fling them one at a time, to intravenously set to clotting his veins? This death would be a grand recital, such as no jester could match. What feasting could catch my eye with such death before it?"
Tenebrae said, "Nono. But come with me to the place where you offered me healing, and I'll show you something far more... entertaining."
Darian fingered a gold bit, dirtied to the point of lacking an insignia, and appeared to muse over doing just that - giving gold intraveneously to a greedy worm of a creature was an appeasing consideration, it would seem.
Tenebrae shot a warning look to Kasyr, that he might not interfere too heartily. The King of Roads, it seemed, was in a state that would deem such a thing high folly.
Kasyr looked between the two slowly, all the whilst trying his utmost best to avoid blurting out any number of things which passed through his mind, the most innocuous of said comments still likely enough to precipitate things towards an even worse scenario.
Tenebrae was too busy playing with fire -- albeit a cold and suffocating fire -- to speak further to the human whose company she'd come to be able to stand in relatively high doses. Instead, she continued her endeavour to draw Darian away from the unsavoury -- but eminently useful -- barkeep.
Darian gazed, all the while humming in a bit of crabwise musicality. He grinned, at last, up at Joliette, from his bent kneed crouch above his bathetic prey. With another viperal lurch of motion an eye was snatched from the socket of a moveless Steadmen, and cast without chalance to the ground. "The rats must have their fare, after all. But I shall come, if you but do me the honor of leading."
Darian dropped 1 eyeball.
Tenebrae breathed deeply, which may or may not have been a gesture of relief. "Aye, Majesty, that I will." She clambered back over the bar, making sure to near Kasyr, a brief aside whispered as she did so. "The keep needs help, and quickly. Many of my plans will fail, should he perish. For his aid, I will owe you a hefty boon ... dear Kas. " Tenebrae , abruptly a deal more sober by now, made her way to the door, hovering near in wait for Darian to follow.
Kasyr remains at the bar, the only sign that he heard anything being a single brief nod- for the most part his undivided attention being focused upon that eye which stared mockingly upwards- soon to be the sup of carrion-feeding rodents.
Darian rolled himself on his newly bloodied shoulder over the counter and landed sturdily with a soft padfall of a motion. Ignoring the human, he trod his way to the door and paused momentarily to chuckle. The headlong, feverish, starved scamper of rats by the multitude could be heard through the walls. When his chuckled had ceased, he put a hand on the door and said to the human behind him "Joliette should be much disappointed were that bleeding sod to not have a breath in his pathetic lungs when she returns. See to it he lives."
Tenebrae bit her lower lip, resisted the urge to glower, and made her way to the street.
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Post by Joliette Thorne on Jun 8, 2007 2:40:46 GMT -5
---------At The Tomb, Right of The Necropolis---------
Darian glanced up from his perch on the gemstone festooned sarcophagous and tossed the hair from over his vision with a snap of his neck, which sent his olden joints to echoing their crackle through the chamber.
Tenebrae stood, her eyes fixated on Darian for several long moments, as though pondering something, and stepped forward. "Well, here we are. And what I have for you is twofold." She shrugged out of her cloak, the clasp subtly falling open of its own accord, the garment slithering over her skin to fall at her feet.
Darian vanished. The cloaks final rustle had the vulnerable vampyress shivering in her own, abrupt solitude.
Tenebrae sighed, and brought herself to sit resignedly on the recently vacated tombstone. "Sodding... men."
Darian posited himself in the doorway, when he was manifest at last, and a silent hemisphere had been walked about Joliette invisibly. The moon greeted his darkling locks, cut through them to silhouette a sudden likeness of him on the time-eaten granite flooring the chamber. Joliette was still shivering when he had brought himself upon her from behind, still shivering when he sunk his teeth into her. Joliette was not going to cease her shivering a long while.
Tenebrae had been bent forward, disconsolately brushing flecks of Steadman's blood from the scarlet of her dress, when the shadow fell, the shape of it a gaunt mirror of the man who cast it. Half a second later, and the soft flesh of her throat was taken into the vampire's maw, his teeth sliding effortlessly through the velvety softness of it. She winced, his proximity radiating a wintery chill that exacerbated the dankness of the chamber. She did not struggle, nor make a sound, but only raised one pale palm to cup the side of his face as his jaw worked and worried at the wound it made. She owed him this, her life, and could only hope he did not demand payment in full, immediately.
Darian let his cheeks be touched, the silence again disrupted, this time by her hands soothing ministry, which sounded as a bushel of larkspurs pressed by the threshing winds into a flower's low and tonal thrush-like moan. The periods between the death of silence and its own resurrection felt as three, long, unholy days. Three, long, unholy days she was suckled from the crook in her neck, before silence resurrected once again, only to be born into the tomb once more by button's tapping on its being with their falls to the floor. Joliette was ever shivering, moaning, raucously piling stones on the sepulchre of Silence. It was an unholy stint of clamor and cacophony, energized by the delight of nonextant spirits in the voidity of each other.
She had lost everything, and now Time itself had forsaken the sineater. Cradled, caressed, rocked in the embodied blight of Fate that loomed behind her now, and slowly drew away the agony of her humanity, the stolen lives of countless men receded like a slow tide, the heavy pall of their sins lifted from the vampiress' cavernous soul-space. Three days, three years... it might be all of her three centuries fleeting by, like the tattered web work of a ghoul's rent shroud, but in amid the blunt terror and delicate agony of Darian's touch, Joliette found the pleasure of the Void, alike the one she'd run from all of her adult days, and even before. Shiver, she did, and not all from the terrible cold of him, and though her shadows rose like faithful curs to snarl and lap at the vagrant's legs, yet she ordered them low, 'til her mind quelled and her will failed, and she was moaning softly as the world fell away into utter darkness. And, below her ribs, beat the sluggish heart that her Master had cursed to life-in-death, that slowed and slowed with every beat, its twice-stolen fuel ebbed to fill a different emptiness.
Darian loosed himself from her arterial grip, and smiled, sighed to feel her dying in his arms. He lowered his chin to her cheek and nuzzled her in a soft jostle. "Come now, wake a little, but not to darkess. We've light yet to squeeze from the world. True, true enough, it is that such Lights are acidic, and our nipped and gnawed and tattered fingers are stinging with reverence, but I am here to lick them clean. Smile a bit, or I'll have to make you."
Tenebrae was beyond hearing, and feeling, and had returned for a time to the inky waters of the Obsidian Pool wherein her Maker had ensconced himself, though his presence was as unfelt as Darian's flesh against her own. Somehow, she always returned here, and the part of her that still had capacity for revelation realised that perhaps it was truly the only place she might ever call home. Around her twisted darknesses so black they defied even their own name, solidifying to serpentine and coiling forms, only to meld back together in a wash of utter night. Her body, which lay limp in the wanderer's arms, was still and pale as white marble given unnatural suppleness, and lolled in his grasp. Response was beyond it, and the thread that tied her to the world thinned, even as did the ribbon of her pulse grow threadbare. She was emptied, and with nothing in her but her vampire to wane and mewl as its own existence begged for succour, would soon be vacant entirely were not the blood he took replaced, and with all speed.
Darian placed his nose within her tresses, which withheld the dinge and musk of taverns and roads against the dank profusion of sepulcherous fumes, and idly tapped a slow and plodding rhythm on her forehead, with the tune of his knuckles scudding spiders from their hollows as he peered singly into the nothingness of his folded eyelids, and gradually added a hum to the rapping of her skull. At last, a sleeve was uprolled, a limb bared, and a wrist teasingly brushed along dying lips. Somewhere in the Dark a ghost had captured her shiver.
It was her vampire, the blood-borne and creature that had spread through her body like a fractal-fingered hand in a vascular glove, that stirred now and stimulated nerve and muscle to gape her mouth toward Darian's flesh. There was no other motion, not a flutter of eyelid or twitch of finger, as the vampire Tenebrae struggled to force its dying flesh to take what it needed from him. With Joli absent, the vampiric awareness immediately began plotting. Too long it'd been suppressed below the sickening tide of her humanity; the insensate and parasitic creature pushed its mind out, seeking stimuli from the mind of the being taunting it now, attempting to draw strength by any means, so it could lift its head, open its mouth and... bite.
Darian clicked his tongues a succinct count of Three times. The world had augmented within the cell of their famish and their feasting, had gone from moment to minutes to millennia and now was deadset and hell-bent for brimstone in its splay-winged plummet of unholiness back to a mere 3 momentary clicks. A bite, a drawing, an indulgence that sleuthed through the bitumen shade of airs. Flick of the wrist, and she was gasping through the fleshy remains of his skin on her fangs, torn in the jolt. He rubbed the incision across his hands, and streaked her exaspertedly timorous cheeks, until her still frame was twitched by a flick of the tongue to taste what she had been denied so soon upon its assuaging gospel in scarlet. He removed his frame from hers, kissing with brevity the spot where he had drunk of her unto diminution, and pacing around crouch before the eyes of her shaking and frozen self, meet them with a slow surety. "Get Up."
Tenebrae - and only that vampire – gathered its will into a stony ball in the woman’s leaden gut, sent its consciousness seeping through stone and softer matter to suck at the aura of spiders and rats - and of Darian, were it able – thereby rousing itself to a semblance of life. The brief taste of the blood, swiped from her own skin in a sweep of blue-tinged tongue, was enough to force it upward, awkward as an infant-grasped marionette, none of Joliette’s lithe qualities left to it. Eyes that would have shone with a famed and jewelline fire now stared, dull as the dried orbs of an expired fish, their unfocused direction, the man who commanded it.
Darian chuckled and grinned in a fleeting wave of amusement, righted himself and stalked to the moon-showering entryway. His wrists pattered and bled a trailing rivulet of scent and sustenance. "Come. You are not dead, Come. I have left a path for your knees and insatiable pangs to tongue along. You have your choice - Die without pity, or wake unto a Darkness with your irises as candlewicks to see you through. Follow me with the blackened roots of your soul, or allow your being to fade as swiftly as what has been drained from you tonight. There is hunger, there is fervor. Come, or perish."
Tenebrae did as bid, whether through its revenant will or the tug of Darian’s own, hair-tips trailing through the dust of centuries as the vampire shuddered to a crawl, head dipping down to sup the driplets of her own life from the stone below. And Tenebrae would follow, as a bird might a trail of crumbs on a forest path, each licked-up spatter forging a new and cold hatred, a steely determination to live and take back the world in pale and vise-like handfuls.
Darian murmured "Yes, yes... There we are, there we are, aren't we? Right at my feet. No, don't look at the blood, look me in the eye. Look At Me. There is no reason to hide what you are, and now you have no choice but to do otherwise," and the wrist was proffered ponderously. "Wake into that Darkness, wake into that Light of your own beaming eyes, wake into my flesh and suck the living waters until you have woke just to Drown."
Tenebrae, as the sluggish pulse of desperate muscle below her ribs lurched, dragged her gaze from the sanguine stains on the floor and fixated it on the eyes of the King of Roads. And hers were empty, as the tattered and null windows of an abandoned house. An instinctive clawing grasp toward the proffered wrist failed once, but not again, the ravaged frame of the vampiress latching to it like the starved animal it was, and the bite, when it came, was only less savage for her weakness. And, like the revenant creature it very nearly was, the vampire obeyed a greater will, and those near-blanched eyes never left Darian’s as vitality was re-taken in long, loud gulps. With life, returned a flood of sensation that smacked Tene’s fractured mind like a giant’s blow, sent her reeling, only the grip of fang on flesh keeping her from falling; and, too, an amber flame, kindled from behind Death’s smoky screen, was at first a pale and infant fire but rapidly burst a flare of gold-on-green that lit her vacant stare’s darkness – a beacon washing through mortality’s Night to beckon Joliette home. And up from the Darkness she swam.
Darian listened still and remote from the shivering ghosts in a swirling, viewless pomp about them. Call it the wind, he thought, but I know the leaves move for nothing but sleepless souls... 13 (click), 14 (click), 15 (click), and his tongue stilled as his arm lurched from Tenebrae’s tattered lips. In a flung arch of crimson flecks he stole his arm through the air and to her throat, gripping hard and recommencing the sweep of blood with her limp and paralytically shocked body – tossing her yards through the door, as lightning smote itself in a limber tremolo and tearful rains clambered shatteringly in all their plethoras to muddy the Earth. As Tenebrae skipped ripplingly over the wetting soil, rolling in shade unless a brief instant of her brutal transit should be illumined by the barking skies, Darian stalked his way into drenched and sullen words. “Can you Feel it? Hm? What will it take? Get Up, Come At Me. Take What you Want, Get Up.” And as he came to her side he loosed a boot-heel scuffing kick on the brow of her pallid skull. She was slowly circled, as a buzzard might dip and swoop with feral interest before gutting some necrotic creature, and lashed at in turns, until she was moaning and writhing, and Darian voiced his dictum in a controlled bellow: “GET UP, WAKE UP.” –fists thrashing at his legs, he gripped her and tossed her easefully once more- “GET UP, YOU HAVE NO CHOICE ANY LONGER, AND I WILL NOT GIVE YOU ANYMORE. GET UP, TAKE IT, YOU ARE YOUR OWN AND ONLY YOURS. THIS BLOOD IN MY VEINS WAS NEVER MINE, DON’T LET IT BE MINE – IT IS ALL YOURS, EVERY LAST DAMNED DROP IS YOURS, SHOULD YOU ONLY FIND THE WILL TO POSSESS IT...” and as he reared his coiled fist to strike a rush of flowing, black hairs and pallid flesh spurred unviewably at him, tackling him, pinning him. And with the sweat of Angels, exasperated from the fearsome pluck of their harps and lutes, dripping down the tip of her nose, both of them smudged and caked and drenched with the slickened Earth as she bore down on him, Darian began to chuckle. She took his arm... “It is mine.” “Yes... it is yours, if you but will it to be... Now kiss me, and give it back. Because I will it to be.”
The denial of his wrist and the shriek and thud of the storm’s din, the rough landing to the graveyard’s rot-enriched mud, the heavy blows, the spine-jarring fervour of his dire commands all pushed Tenebrae beyond the brink of rage, had her coil her freshly-fuelled frame and spring at him like a long-wintered wolf bitch, teeth bared, to shove the blood-thief down onto the bed of a fresh-dug grave. Her breath was a low rasp; this wasn’t the only struggle she was enduring – indeed, the one within still raged, even as she forced bruised lips and throat to respond to Darian. Pinned below her, though hardly complacent, the vampire voiced his last command – and will’o’wisp flickers of amber light sparked again, as her bloody pout shifted to a crooked grin. Tenebrae… Joli… the woman straddling Darian now, lowered his arm gently and dipped her head down to comply – very literally – with… a kiss. And, were his tongue to meet the rough demands of her own, a slash of fang would slice that soft muscle’s surface, and she would drink of him, and drink, until both were satisfied.
Darian slowly spit the shaking woman atop him with his tongue; roasted her alive with his chilled fires. His fingers ran up and down her smooth and shaking arms, settled on her shoulders and gripped her solid against his chest as his tongue was punctured; expending one hand to sift the puddle-luscious muds of her tresses and trace her spine, in one recurring motion of fluidity. His other hand moved shiftingly from her shoulder, once she had rest herself upon him, to cup her cheek and rest in a clutch about her neck - just to feel the arteries enervate with his own sordid Life.
Tenebrae, at length drew back, some degree of mental clarity emerging as the urgency of her body abated, and the war within her came to some sort of momentary pause – both aspects of the woman both exhausted and sated, for the moment. Still afflicted with the tremors that shook her at every moment of contact with her vampiric companion, she rolled away to take his side on the sodden earth, on her back to let the still-cascading rain wash down on her face. In her then was an unearthly quiet, a stillness she’d never known all her days, oddly restorative of strength and mind. Darian spoke not, and only the sound of the rain existed to disturb her inward reverie. This, after a while, became tedious. Turning on her side, one elbow planted to the mud and her head resting in her hand, she prodded Darian gently. Her voice was hoarse. “Fancy a drink, then?”
Darian forced his body forward in a quick rise to his feet, extending one hand once risen to the reach of Tenebrae "At the risk of redundancy, get up." When this was done, he walked her slowly to the tavern. Taverns always breed the more amusing of the world's occurrences, he thought, as the ghosts at last gave out in a gasp and he passed the gates of the graveyard, releasing them from his presence.
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Post by Joliette Thorne on Jun 8, 2007 2:44:54 GMT -5
---Back At The Corpse--
Tenebrae staggered a little now ands then, and there were purple welts rising on her face and arms, but she seemed, except for a certain sluggishness of response, to have suffered little for her near-death experience. "I hope your surprise has arrived..."
Darian is found to be in a mud-dripping recline on a bar-stool, smiling in a sweet array of tooth and fang as Steadmen huffs about, preparing his drink in all haste. "Your boy hasn't died. I'm surprised, pathetic as he is." With a drink set before him, he flicked a coin into an obscure cranny behind the counter, sending Steadmen in a one-eye'd grovel to find it. The smile widened briefly. Tenebrae was next to Darian, fidgeting with her cloak - which was clung like a second skin to her drenched and mud-soaked body. Raking a tangle of bedraggled hair from her eyes, she returned to the task of unclasping the long garment, the scarlet underneath barely visible through the soil and muck adhering to her dress. Lumpish bruises ringed one eye and portions of her throat and decolletage, as well as her limbs. She watched the exchange with Steadman impassively, waiting her turn to slide a coin to the timber. "Blood wine." Her voice was a shade more husky than usual.
Xarden announces on arrival, "Do not worry, I am a trained professional!" Tenebrae said to Darian, "Not a great deal of thanks to you, for his survival. " She shot him a sidelong look. "At least he is still useful..." Kasyr slips into the corpse with nary a sound save the brush of his trenchcoat upon the floor, surprisingly in good form this day, given the particularly pleasant demeanour he exhibited along with the lack of any visible wounds, for once. Still, upon entry he did seem a touch disappoint, eyes flitting towards the piano as though some hope had been placed into espying someone attempting to channel a muse vis a vis that particular instrument. No such luck as it would seem, though the particular states of those two vampyr present was enough to arouse sufficient curiosity that his prior desire was forgotten "...What happened to vous two?"
Xarden grumbles, "Every time I come here, the place has changed..."
Kasyr said to Xarden, "What are tu a trained professional of?"
Darian said, "Useful might be a stretch, my dear. At least he is amusing; however, anything that flinches when I tap my foot to a nonextant song could be said to be amusing. Seeing as such things are not particularly sparse, I really have no call for deeming him 'useful'." Tenebrae blinked slowly at that. "-- Somebody-- has to do the dirty work," was her retort. The irony of it escaped her, entirely. Kasyr's entrance was greeted with a slight wave, and much of a smile as her face could manage. "'Ello pet. We uh... I had a debt owing The King of Roads, here." She tilted her head toward Darian. "Was just making sure it was paid." She gave the vampire a truculent stare. "In full."
Xarden said to Kasyr, "Many things. What do you need?"
Kasyr said to Xarden, "Nothing, Is it hard to administer." Besides any form of a roguish grin that might just happen to be forming would an ending to that statement be granted. "Maybe general knowledge, Monsieur- not a talent, just knowing what tu could do for future reference."
Xarden has shifty eyes. He shrugs slightly, "Ok then, I guess." His hand reaches up to behind one of his ears to give a quick scratch.
Tenebrae waved to Xarden, driplets of soggy mud spattering from her hand as she did so. In her other hand was a bottle of 'cold comfort', of which she then made short work.
Xarden nods in return to Tene's wave.
Kasyr did his best to mask the rather impish chuckle, something was made rather difficult if only by his observance of both the elf who'd come in and that dribbling muck which clung to the two present "It looks like tu tossed him into a ditch then fell in yourself- Er, but. Anyways. Oui. So, I see my poor bit of tending worked et all."
Darian tipped over his half-empty bottle and rose in a motion, passing Tenebrae by with a brush of his torn wrist's trickling crevace along her dinge and grime besotted sleve. He came to a half before the shining instrument, slick as a black-water pool with writhing and winsome sirens crooning silently beneath its surface, til one should make a dive to hear their song and gargle with their hands one's throat. He began to clap his hands successively, slowly, as if to their rhythm, as if applauding their deathly tonality. "Lovely, my dear, Lovely... Steadmen. Line our Baby's piano-top with full bottles - Put it on my tab, and then tear the tab up, if you please. Oh, do stop whimpering, if you please," and in an owling swivel he set his neck to crackling, afore his fingers knuckled each other and popped like bones beneath marching heels. He seated himself loosely on the bench, long jacket thrown at random patrons he slipped his finger over each and every key, muddying it noiselessly, with devotion. As he dead so, a toothy array of ivory was put in a blood-soaked grimace, as if just returned from its feasting, and ready to howl in a moonlit silhouette on a hillock. Bottles lined her sill, and Steadmen could be heard trying not to whimper.
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Post by Joliette Thorne on Jun 8, 2007 2:48:24 GMT -5
Tenebrae watched her companion stalk toward the piano, a subtle smile twitching at her lips as he voiced his approval, and without turning from his view said, "Oh, Kasyr, what do I owe you for that service? For you've done me a great favour, after all..." She hushed a moment, while long and pale fingers touched down on the ivory keys, her smile widening. She motioned to Steadman, once his service to Darian was done, muttering a number of orders to the man. Kasyr rather awkwardly placed his hands upon the back of his neck, bereft of any particular answer "I'm not sure- I was rather hoping tu would have that figured out. I'm not exactly one to ask things of people without something particular in mind. Et your so not saying what exactly happened in regards to that debt, are tu?"
Tenebrae waved a grimy hand toward the barkeep, hither and thither, indicating where each item was to go. A bowl of eyeballs was placed on the piano-top, within reach of Darian, as was the additional wine - she had no doubt he'd drain his own order soon enough - and the rest put the bar. She slid a vodka along, toward Kasir. "Help yourself." It'd arrive complete with a streak of mud, and a smear of blood - but hey, better not to look a gift bottle in the mouth, perhaps. She'd grimace at the sight of the dirt on her hands. "I wonder if they still have that tub upstairs?" Tenebrae said to Kasyr, "Ah.. well, I am indeed beholden to you. So, I thought perhaps a twofold reward. One, you must take." Here, she tugged a soggy pouch from her belt, tossing it to the man. "The other is where your choice lies. I'd offer you a position within Cabal, as I have before." She was looking more distressed by her state by the minute. Covered in wet earth and blood, and her cloak in a heap on the floor, she figured a few more drinks before bathtime were in order, and hoped she'd remembered to stock some herbal poultices for all those bruises.
Thea nudges the door to the establishment with an elbow then walks in yawning. Making her way towards the bar the pixie's wings stretch then twitch slightly upon completion as Thea utters an order to the keep. Kasyr smiles quite kindly in return for that particular boon that was currency before he looked upon the lady Joliette quite seriously "I think- I will, though, when I am to leave the service of Kanos, it would be good if you were there- it would help tu become aware of some of the mischief I'm going to be into. Regardless, Its, an honour, certainly- though I might require another taken in- for her safe guarding, if her sanity would allow it." This particular part of his speech was hesitant, as though he had rather wished against mentioning any of it to start with.
Tenebrae looked not a little like a surprised raccoon, with her mask of grime. "Oh hello again." She was peering at Thea pointedly, lower lip caught between her teeth for a bit, as though struggling for a thought. Kasyr does indeed accept the grimy, bloodstained bottle- as he probably looked worse than it did some days. Plus, its not like a little blood hurt anyone- except vampires, and dragons, but anyways.
Kasyr said to Thea, "Hello again" Tenebrae turned toward Kasyr, her frown dissolving. "She'd have to meet with my approval. As to my presence... how many should I bring, or have standing near, in case of trouble?"
Kasyr shrugged a bit towards the first statement "I figured as much" though towards the second he can't help but gain a bemused smirk "Cheri, numbers won't mean a thing, he's an Ascendi- it'd just be more people to send to hell. No, I just meant because last I recall, tu have a meeting due- et I myself wish to leave in proper form- and acknowledgements. I'm not one to skulk away without a word."
Thea sleepily looks from the bar to the few gathered here, gaze landing on her old friend Tenebrae. Still unsure what had come of the woman to cause loss of memory Thea issues a curt nod of head to her, "Greetings."
Thea said to Kasyr, "Aye, and hello to you as well."
Tenebrae slid from her seat, leaving something of a puddle of rainwater in her place, and walked as fluidly as her sore limbs would allow toward the pixie. Kasyr was offered a nod, as she passed him. "Very well. Let me know the time and place." Once closeby, she'd clear her throat gently, addressing Thea. "Wondered if you'd take me up on that vodka now," she said, quietly. "Thought perhaps we might have a little chat, like, if you've got the time."
Thea 's attentions remain focused on Tenebrae for a paused moment before responding with a near sympathetic tone, "I would love to sit and talk with you, Tene.." The pixie paused and tucked goods just purchased into satchel, "but not now. I have much to do elsewhere. Perhaps we can speak later?"
Tenebrae nodded silently, stepping back to allow the woman room to gather her things. Her reply came, softly, as the last item was packed. "Aye." If there was a slight sadness in her tone, it wouldn't be seen on her features - she'd already turned her back to step toward her former chair.
Kasyr glanced over towards the pair, a rather curious "Tene?" issued forth before he simply shrugs and redirects his attention, trying not to allow his attention stray too much. After all, he had appearances to keep- and one of which did involve being gentlemanly enough, at the current moment anyways, to avoid eavesdropping upon every passing word.
Tenebrae stopped, looked at the wet patch she'd left and trod a pace to the left, bringing her a little closer to Kasyr, and to a clean chair. Sitting in it, with a noticeable amount of discomfort, she offered him a small smile and reached for a bottle of wine.
Darian tilted back his grimy skull, black and grimy locks itching the floor, Adam's apple bobbing irreverantly before a piano which was black was Eve. He cast the bottle after his jacket, clipping a patron's arm and eliciting a yelp, before setting to itching those bloodied keys, his once drunk and now gashed wrist dripping like sugary sap into the filling spiggot of the dusty floor beneath him. A sleepy rhythm was played, as the room was plunged into the winsome Siren's croon, and before long the aplomb of his fingerings was joined with the smoothed and pleasing growl-like wrench of his voice - wolfish growl, wolfish croon. "As the days begin to slacken, and the night ruptures like a womb, or the roans are all a'rappin their hooves beneath the moon, I'll sell my soul for whisky-grins and come on over, come over soon. If a night was spent too sober, we'd meet up with our dooms, so come on over, come on over and drink until you've swooned. The shores are farthings distant, but if there should be tombs, we'll come on over, come on over to their wombs-" his fingers filliped like dancing women of gowning peal and jade, their shadows rippling on the black-water of the melodious pool, "-we've got a home in heaven, and its drownin in shinin moon, so the graves will set with clovers, and the weeds will be our boon, when we come on over, come on over to the craggy cliffs of wombs - We'll birth in Death, my darlin, we'll stroke Her from the womb, as a beached whale sprouts his clover, and the anthems shout our tunes."
Kasyr can't help but display the slightest bit of contentment at the closer proximity before he ever so gradually placed a coin upon the table and reached for a bottle himself- rather curious if it really did taste as unpleasant as Loshe said. "So, business aside I guess, what's new?" Kasyr does take some time to applaud, in a rather restrained fashion, that particular performance. He was seeming perplexed by the amount of talent towards something constructive- given that excessively destructive tendency displayed the last time- and the overall unpleasant demeanour. Odd dichotomies Abound. Krali pushes the establishment's doors open with a barely a creak and walks silently into the bar. He heads over to the fireplace and drops himself into the nearest chair with a sigh of relief. He closes his bloodshot eyes and raises a hand towards his temple. He starts to message his temple.
Tenebrae reached to place a dirt-smeared finger to her lips, to hush herself, as Darian's fingers began to wend across the keys of her gift to him. Lowering her hand, she turned toward the vampire, lips parting in rapture as his song was played, and stayed that way until the growl of his voice died off, and the tinkling stilled, and for several minutes after. Finally she spoke, indistinct enough a sound that he may or may not catch it. "That was beautiful.."
Krali opens his eyes and watches the dance of the flames within the fireplace. He continues to message his temple as if it comes him some sort of relief.
Tenebrae would be a sight to behold - a beautiful woman covered in grave-earth and bruises blooming on her skin like blue roses. Long dark hair was rough as a horse's tail with filth, and blood smeared across her cheeks and the backs of her hands.
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Post by Joliette Thorne on Jun 8, 2007 2:49:23 GMT -5
Krali lowers his hand to the arm of the chair and uses it to help him to push his weary body up. He turns slowly from the fire and slowly and silently walks over to the bar. He gazes over the bar's selection to decide on what to order. Tenebrae cleared her throat a bit, glancing toward Krali, a once-pale hand waved idly toward the vodkas set on the bar. "Help yourself stranger. It's on the house tonight, in the name of the King of Roads, and Joliette of the Bloody Wire."
Krali bought 100 water.
Tenebrae blinked gently, twice. "Ah, well then. More for us, I suppose." Her smile was curt, but cordial. Kasyr eventually does finish all considerations upon the whether or not he really does want to partake of the bloodwine he ordered, with a shrug bring the glass to his lips and tipping it back. Mind you, instead of the winces and similar reactions most individuals of partial humane blood had, there was instead a slightly satiated sigh "...Didn't taste half bad at all- Maybe she just wasn't a wine person. Huh? A bien." Kasyr said to Tenebrae, "That, Cheri, was smooth to the utmost degree. Truly so."
Krali raises an eyebrow at the woman and her reaction. "I take it that you do not approve of my choice to ignore alcohol?"
Kasyr said to Krali, "...I think she genuinely means more for us, Monsieur."
Krali said to Kasyr, "I am sorry, my lord, for my ignorance of these land's customs . . ."
Kasyr said to Krali, "...uh, Customs? If there's any you know more than moi, Here I thought I was drinking. Et speaking of, that blood wine hit the spot better than I thought it would- so"
Tenebrae smirked at the exchange between the two, and was suddenly aware of a question, left unanswered, forgotten in the mesmeric melody played by Darian. "Kasyr..." She turned toward him. "I rather hope to establish Vailkrin as my own. Should your deity not smite us both horribly, would you do me the honour of joining Cabal?" Tenebrae said to Krali, "Oh, no bother, pet. So, are you new to the lands?"
Darian shakes his head slightly upon hearing those words, and ceases to voicelessly itch at the piano, before turning slowly toward one Krali. "Nobody stays, not without drinking," and in a sallow capitulation his arm raised and his teeth fanged another protuberant cork from a bottle's lips, letting its words dryly whisper into his mouth, and loll upon his tongue. "Drink, or Leave." His left hand nestles the keys in a deeply plucked reverie of tune as his right nestles the bottle like a newborn babe with its fathers hands around its throat.
Krali bows towards the man. "I see, my lord. I am wanderer new to these lands."
Tenebrae had spoken this aside, half-interestedly, her attention turning back to Kasyr for the now. "Plenty where that came from, sweetness." She tapped the bar, for more to be brought up from the cellar. Steadman grumbled away, to fulfil her wishes.
Kasyr pauses from his not-so-valiant attempts at getting more of the wine, that particular liquid seeming to have more of an effect on him in a small dose than prodigious amounts of that dark vodka would- a fact he still attempted to disguise by hiding behind another glass. "...A guard? Er, I was a guardian- hope to be again some day- so it's not like something I'm not familiar with." Draining that glass he had incidentally let linger before his lips, he finally answered "My pleasure, cheri, and my honour as much or more than yours, Je Pense."
Krali said to you, "Aye, my lady. I am just a simple wanderer." Kasyr said to Krali, "I wouldn't ignore him, S'royalty of sorts- I think. King of roads?" The tiefling was rather amused by this point, leaning quite heavily upon the desk as he persevered in his particular bit of oddities. Finally would he simply hand one of the spare bits of drink procured for him. "Just put aside not drinking for a bit- Trust -me-. He could do worse to you than a little drink will."
Tenebrae 's eyes shifted toward Darian, and she bit her lip in a halted smirk, before nodding to Kasyr. "All that means is, you get to boss the clan about a bit in times of skirmish, and tell them to train, when they are lazy. Set up a few hunts, and the like.. perhaps a raid.. er.. expedition now and then." She sipped her wine, the respite from speech being filled with Krali's reply. She gave him the once-over. "A drow.. wandering. How came you to leave your House?"
Darian said, "Well, simple as you may be, you may have a simple drink then. Water your whisky with what fare you've stocked, if you will, but everyone must drink. When they're done drinking, they leave. Are you done drinking?"
Kasyr tries his best not to ogle the large amount of bloodwine, nor the lady who was so charitable in their delivery Krali glares at Darian for a moment, before flipping a coin onto the bar top for a glass of water. He brings it to his lips and lets some of the liquid roll down his throat. He bows slightly at Kasyr, "I thank you for the gift, but I am afraid that I cannot accept it." He gives the bottle of blood wine back to its rightful owner. His attention again returns to that of Tenebrae. "We had several, um, disagreements."
Tenebrae had watched Kasyr relishing the sluggish and sanguine liquid, and raised one eyebrow, her lips pursing slightly, before a tiny shrug lifted and dropped her shoulders. At Darian's interjection, she followed the motion with a heavy sigh. "You'll frighten away our bread and butter, Sire, if you're not careful." Kasyr gets a rather bemused look upon that particular revelation, one finger pressed to his lips as he mulled over those particular possibilities "Sounds fun Cheri, long as there's something to protect- I can do just fine. Though, I've heard the word hunt a few times now- what do tu mean by that?" As he went about his humble bit of inquiry, the tiefling made well and good of decimating another two drinks in the name of inebriation- seemingly keen upon the idea of actually recollecting what its like to stumble out of a bar in a drunken daze- eventually. Krali gave 1 blood wine to Kasyr. Kade feels eyes on the back of her neck as she crosses to the fireplace. Trying as hard as she possibly can not to be a nuisance, she blocks out the conversation. Sitting down, she takes out a book, not daring to eaves drop.
Tenebrae snatched up a bottle of vodka and tossed it toward the newly entered woman with a whoop of warning. "Heads up, miss - have a drink, on the house."
Kade looks up from her book at the shout. She doesn't have time to catch it, so she gives a bit of a cry of surprise. She puts up her arm to protect her face. The bottle ricochets off of her and lands on the arm chair she resides in. Picking it up with a bark of a laugh, she calls over, "Thanks!" Tenebrae turned back to Kasyr, leaning wearily against the once-polished surface of the bar-top, that wood now as dirty as she was, almost. "Hunt.. well, there are beasts in the land, no doubt you've come across one or two in your time. Then there are.. the times when our prey has a couple less than four legs." She left it at that, and ingenuous blink given, before starting in on her next bottle of booze. Seemed Tene was going to keep up with the men, in that regard.
Darian rises in a jostle of hair and mud and rainslicked blood, calmly stalking towards the bar. His padfalls crinkling the warped and parched planks of the tavern's flooring, his frame swaying like the tonsil of an aged bell, crushing the newly inhabiting spiders in its sonorous swing. He arrived at the countertop and took a seat juxtaposing Krali, his lengthy jacket tossed aside, his slim arms were bare and glimmering in the candlelit flicker of the room. With one hand smoothly rapping out a song, as if the piano had never, should never have been left, he reached for a waiting dark vodka and topped what Krali had drunk from his glass of water. "Enjoy." Krali shakes his head at the two currently conversing and the amount of alcohol that they are consuming.
Kade returns to her book, the empty vodka bottle sitting next to her on the floor.
Tenebrae 's attention was drawn -- as if it wouldn't be -- to the stride of Darian, her eyes shifting to his trajectory's likely outcome. She bit her lip a little, hoping there wasn't to be a repeat of last night's scenario.
Kasyr had to resist chuckling upon the particular sight of Kade, mirthful to a very large extent even after the implications of his particular question "I take it, its oft for food, oui? You know, you never did answer me in regards to how things were, that weren't business, Madamoiselle Joli"
Krali glares at the man who just poured alcohol into his drink. He flips the glass in a motion hard to follow and places the glass on its mouth, leaving no way to drink its contents without spilling it all over the bar top. A few drops of the glass' contents lay on the bar top.
Kasyr said to you, "He has spunk~ The new boy I mean."
Tenebrae tore her eyes off the source of impending unpleasantness, and looked to Kasyr. “Things.. “ Her features shifted, almost imperceptibly, to a drawn expression that – to a perceptive man – would speak of trouble and woe borne like a caryatid’s burden. “Things are just great. The clan’s in need of new blood, though, so many our number dead now, or lost to folly. Oh..” She smiled wanly. “That’s business isn’t it? ‘Fraid I’ve not had much time or inclination for pleasure of late.”
At his last comment, she glanced to Darian, and back again. "The what?"
Darian chuckled slightly, "Tene, my dear, do you mind if I get blood on the floor? I'm sure Steadmen would be obliged to clean it up." and as he finished he took two fingers like the horn of dogged moon and slowly tilted the glass upwards, till its contents posited themselves aqueously in the Drow's lap.
Krali stands and shrugs apathetically at the man. "I have no quarrel with you, my lord. As it occurred to you, in all of you intoxication, that as a monk, I have taken certain vows?"
Kasyr just gestured to that particular incident awaiting to explode "Guts- he has guts, oui. I just hope your king doesn't spill them all for him. Elsewise." Even getting to a point of some senses dulled by that crimson tonic which he did so enjoy, and of which he partook -another- bottle, he did realise something of what he said was amiss, perhaps relating to that feral woman and her captain, likely other things of a close sort as well. "Dead or crazy, Mon Dieu. I do pray I fare better- though it might just be life in this place that does it." With a shrug, he quite simply leaned back against the bar. "Well, this is sorta pleasure, is it not cheri?" Tenebrae cast Darian a look that might have taken varnish off a table. "I'd really rather you did not, Sirrah, if it's all the same." To Krali she tossed a rag, snatched from Steadman's still-bandaged hand. "My apologies, stranger. Perhaps you might .. uh..." She thought rapidly of a way to damp the flames of the situation. "Come sit by me, and tell me a traveller's tale?"
Kasyr said to Krali, "has it occurred to you, he might not care? I had to play medic, because he got feisty with Steadmen." In regards to this would he incline his head towards the bartender and his one eyed glory. "I'd rather -not- play medic or guardian right now, Monsieur" And there goes -another- drink" Kade smiled to herself at the woman's try to make the situation better, but says nothing, and continues reading.
Tenebrae spoke aside to Kasyr, softly. "This place? One might be better on the battlefield when Darian is in such a mood. Here, let me try to distract him.. would you take up the conversation with our monk there, if he'll have it?"
Krali bows towards Kasyr. "I thank you, my lord and pray that I may never need your services." He catches the rag that was tossed to him and walks past Darian, over to Tenebrae.
Darian continues at his rhythmic tapping of an insharable song which was yet too distant from the piano to be heard. "Oh, no quarrel. Quarrels occur when there is no option - This is a necessitated enforcement of Natural Law. You have every chance to Leave, as Monk, now don't you? It appears you have an option, and we are therefore far from quarreling, now aren't we?"
Tenebrae slid from her seat, nodding an apology to Krali and casting Kasyr a meaningful look, before stooping to take up her mired cloak from the floor, and doing her best to saunter in her normal regard toward the vampire. Reaching his proximity, she cleared her throat. "Dear Majesty.. we are both of us fit for the death-cart, by our look. I wondered of you might not repair to upstairs with me, so we might find you clean clothes, and I a bath?"
Krali contines to head over to the woman who asked for a tale. "What you said, my lord, was for me to drink something in the tavern. Our fine bartender had some water that I could order and drink, therefore meeting your demand."
Krali nods his head to the woman. "You company, my lady, might be more sociable." He turns to Kasyr, "Barring yours. I thank you for your hospitality."
Kasyr whispered to Tenebrae, "As much as I'd love to have maintained your attention, Cheri, I do believe a favor I can grant, in that form. Oui."
Kasyr acknowledged Tenebrae's request with but a nod and a faintly murmured reply, quite willing to get up and head towards Krali, after procuring two more bottles of drink. "You know, it really is good that you wouldn't want to need my services monsieur, if I keep on drinking, I might just start seeing double." Adding emphasis to this particular remark was the fact that he then proceeded to empty one of the bottles he held. "I do believe you would do best to try a bit of chit chat with moi."
Tenebrae had passed Krali, on her way toward Darian, and couldn't help a little smirk at the man's most logical argument. But now, she awaited the vampires pleasure - or disinterest, which was more likely.
Darian said, "Oh, but rhetoric does not excuse, I'm afraid. If you should be one whom enters a tavern and proceeds to misconstrue the ulterior nature of the word 'Drink', then I should certainly have ceased verbal communication with you by now, as Idiots might make me chuckle but they've still a tendency to disrupt a song. "
Krali raises an eyebrow to the intoxicated man. "My lord, no offense, but at the rate that you are enjoying and partaking in our fine host's alcohol, you may not be coerent enough for a conversation." Krali said to Darian, "I was not interrupting your music and playing. You had no need to get up."
Tenebrae shot a baleful look to Krali, and one back at Darian. Men, she grumbled inwardly, would be boys.
Kasyr muttered something rather unpleasent by the sound of it, the empty bottle he held gesticulated in Krali's general direction before its rather aloofly tossed aside, common sense discarded somewhere around the last bottle. "I'm trying to do a favour pour vous, and all you can do is think up smart comments, Mon Dieu. Its not hard to ask someone's name and what brought them to a tavern, and s'what I can shtill think well enough t'ask." And the inevitable slurring began- accentuated further by even more drinking in copious amounts.
Krali turns towards the woman raises an eyebrow. "I take it, my lady, that you do not approve of my actions?"
Darian said, "Should you think before speaking you would realize I had not, in fact, assessed you as an Idiot, and therefore there was no disruptive implications. However. If you are Not an Idiot, then you certainly do not mistake the words 'Drink or Leave.' As such - Drink or Leave."
Kasyr said to Darian, "...He does short of have a point- I wouldn'st drink any o' the water in this city- don't trusht it'all" Tenebrae simply sat down, and began disentangling her once-silken hair, using her fingers for a comb. Her eyes would wander to the far more peaceful Kade, almost enviously.
Krali turns and walks up to the man. "Listen, my lord. I mean you no disrespect or offense, but when I cam in here I order something and plan to stay. I do not partake in alcohol, but I order something to drink. I am well within my right to stay within this establishment."
Kade feels the familiar tingle of eyes on her. Looking up, she spots the woman. She gives the stranger a warm smile.
Darian said, "Tene, you never answered 'bout the blood on the floor."
Kasyr might be rather drunk by this point, but he wasn't stupid. Quickly approaching Krali, he'd take a step so that he was besides the monk, the nearly inconsequential action of the tieflings hand vanishing into the recesses of his trenchcoat ensuing. "I'll get you a juice or something if you shut up~ S'il vous plait. In fact, Hush a moment." And there went Kasyr, Scurrying over to the counter to lean over and scoop up a 'juice', only to return and thrust it at Krali "Shush and drink it slowly- D'accord?" Tenebrae returned Kade's smile, as best she could in the circumstances, and upon Darian's words turned to him. "I -did- reply something to the effect that I'd rather you didn't, Sire, and so forth. We can't be running a bar if you're to terrify the patronage so." She'd look to the nearby Krali, briefly. "And we are in need of a steady supply of gold, or the place will fold. There is a greater logic in leaving him to his water. And in coming with me, to procure cleanliness, as I am suffering this filth drying on my skin, as though ants were crawling on it." Her features would make her distress at that fact quite plain.
Kasyr said to Krali, "see, peach juice-"
Krali nods his head toward Kasyr. "I thank you for your esteemed hospitality, but it seems that our honored piano player does not care for me. I think I might as well leave and save our bartender some mess to clean up." He leaves his spot by the bar top and walks towards the tavern's doors.
Kasyr snaps his fingers, as he was all of a few inchs from having gotten the monk to drink, and that would have been doubly beneficial in the whole, breaking of vows incident. Till next time one supposed- at the current moment however, given his charge was leaving - there was drinking to be done.
Tenebrae said to Krali, "Hold, Monk, for I'd speak to you, before you go."
Krali turns toward Tenebrae before reaching the tavern's doors. "My lady would mind accompanying me on a walk?"
Tenebrae sighed raggedly and took up her still-wet cloak, as though to put it on her shoulders, thought twice about it and put it down again. "A walk sounds good, Monk." With a last blank stare to Darian, she made her way to the door.
Krali opens the door, and holds it for the woman to exit through. "After you my lady."
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Post by Joliette Thorne on Jun 8, 2007 2:50:15 GMT -5
---Tene returns, a short time later--
Tenebrae pushed the door ajar, newly-clean fingers tucking a loose strand of hair - restored to it's silken condition, though still damp - to the rest of her coif, gathered at the back of her neck with a jewelled pin. Stepping inside, hoping her appearance was now more seemly, having completed her change sans mirror, she strolled over to the bar at a casual pace, her slight limp barely noticeable, her wounds and bruises already fading. The persistent punctures on her throat, however, were covered with a satin ribbon, from which hung a large emerald. Ryeanna looks up and down the tavern notice board the occasional smile twisting into her lips as she sips the thick black wine from a crystal goblet. She nods to the female vampire who appears to be Tenebrae but seems to be handling herself in a somewhat different manner. "Good day."
Tenebrae offered Ryeanna a small smile. "Good day, lady. Welcome to the Hanging Corpse." A sharp look was given the one-eyed barman. "Steadman, I do hope you've been looking after our customers, for a change?" The man seemed terribly nervous, but considering Darian's presence, this was no matter of surprise to Joli.
Kasyr inclines his head first towards the lady of whom he knows not, and then moments later to Tenebrae upon her arrival, leaning heavily upon the bottle of wine which rested within his grasp "Bonjour, encore, Joli. Your lookin' better"
Tenebrae said to Kasyr, "Ah, it was a bushman's bath, really, but yes, I am much restored." She looked poitedly to the bottle. "You're still at it, then? I fear you're too far ahead for me to catch up before next week, sometime."
Ryeanna smiles her cold souless eyes unblinking in the dim light of the hanging corpse, "Thank you, I do believe Steadman has behaved himself so far this day."
Tenebrae inclined her head toward the woman. "I have seen you, but not often in this neck of the woods. You are sometimes in Kelay, no?"
Ryeanna said to Tenebrae, "I sometimes visit Kelay but not often, I'm usually at the Citadel to the north but occasionally wander into town to make sure all is well."
Tenebrae settled herself to a chair at the bar, close to the muddy and bundled cloak she'd left on the floor. Nudging it with the toe of her boot, she wrinkled her nose. The cloak shifted slightly, as if in protest. Looking back to Ryeanna she said, "Ah. Well, this was once my place, and is again. Any time you're in the area, do drop in for a drink." Her smile was polite. "I'm Joli, of the Bloody Wire. Pleased to make your acquaintance." Ryeanna said to Tenebrae, "The pleasure is all mine. I am known as Ryeanna Drakenheart though some refer to me as the Lich Queen. *smiles* It's nice to know this place will have custom once more."
Kasyr nodded slightly at those particular words "Next week...shounds 'bout right- and I think I need ta rest it off- maybe you'll have me beat by then, Cheri- Either way, Cya...Around, Oui." And off departed the tiefling, a stumbling gait his means of transportation 'home'.
Tenebrae 's left brow lofted slightly over its peridot eye. "Lich Queen?" She quieted herself, studied Ryeanna carefully a moment. "Ah, you do have the marks of darkness about you, Ryeanna Drakenheart." The vampiress smoothed one hand over her skirt, before raising it to summon the keep. "Blood wine, Steadman..." To Ryeanna she said, "And yes, I intend to advertise for staff tomorrow. Though there's so many layabouts in the lands, I fear I'll be hard-pressed to find any worth the coin paid them."
Darian struck up a mud-sliding chord and slung his fingers slippery along the keys, rewetting them with his still bleeding wrist, mounting drops upon the dried driblets encrusting on the floor. The spirit of the sleek musicality was as black as the growl, black as the keys, black as the shining, wooden bodice of strings and notes which filled the tavern to the brim. "Little one, holy and bleeding as a martyr in sleep- Know the sun has folded to wreathing your brow in a powdered and lilywhite heap. If you have come in a showering season, then we may lay shining in armorless nights to weeps, as the willows are all at their pining, and the wool has gone black as the maw of our steeds. Little one, hear the herds at their bleating, hear them stir and come walking with me..." A bottle was drained in summation.
Tenebrae sighed softly as Darian's song began, the music seeming to speak to her weariness of body and mind. She was glad of her gift to him, for the peace it brought both volatile personalities. A wiggle of fingers was offered to Kasyr's departing back, by way of farewell.
Tenebrae said to Darian, "Another fine song. Do you know any more?" Ryeanna said to Tenebrae, "The Lich Queen yes, a ceremonial title. I defend this province from the living races who would seek to deny the undead a homeland. We are positioned as a member of the empire along with Venturil and Trist'Oth. I would agree many in the lands would sooner sit on their hands than do an honest days work which is why so much of the land is undeveloped and unruled."
Ryeanna slowly drums her gloved fingertips along with the beat of Darian's tune but for all the din of the tavern it goes mostly unheard.
Tenebrae 's smooth brow furrowed at Ryeanna's words. "You.. own.. Vailkrin, then?" A quick change of subject was in order. "As to developments, Vailkrin is my homeland, and I fear that it has gone to ruin since I was a girl. The businesses are few, the streets dull, and yes, full of idle sorts. I intend to do my part to bring it to life.." An unfortunate term, but she wasn't known for her tact. "According to the means I have."
Ryeanna said to Tenebrae, "After a fashion...this is one of the reasons I came here to improve it but seems not many people want to see this province to be powerful or independent. Cult of Pleasure however hopes to change that . I would be more than willing to work with you in this matter if you wish. *nods her slowly*"
Tenebrae pursed her lips, in thought, and after took a long sip from the bottle Steadman had placed on the bar for her. Setting the wine back down, she looked to Ryeanna. "You'd not object to the presence of Cabal in your territory, then? My people need an established place, now that Gualon is gone to some idiot or other, and the headquarters thus surrounded by strangers." The vampiress frowned deeply. "But, if this isn't a bother, I can't see why we wouldn't put our heads together to ensure our peoples continue to have their freedom. Just be aware, Cabal makes no pacts lightly, and plays its own tunes, as far as politics go. Still, it's my wish to see these streets bustling, new blood, so to speak." her frown faded, replaced by a smile at her own humour. Which was one thing she was more infamous for, than famous.
Ryeanna said to you, "I think such an arrangement would be beneficial for both sides, the cabal and the cult. We can both seek out our own paths while both protecting and taking refuge here in the darklands of Vailkrin."
Tenebrae nodded agreement. "Seems a fair deal. Let us agree not to interfere in one another's ... business. Hopefully, our objectives in other matters aren't too divergent." She looked to Ryeanna's goblet. "Might I offer you a refill?"
Ryeanna said to Tenebrae, "A refill...yes if you don't mind. You should feel free to use the citadel also if need be, we're all sons and daughters of the dark lands after all.” She smiles with a much more honest expression painted upon her delicate yet seemingly harsh features than there is most days.
Tenebrae 's lips parted in a pleased grin. "That we are, though Cabal has its share of all races. Still, Cabal is Cabal, above and beyond matters of the flesh, and I can't foresee any member going against the wishes of our leaders." She studied the dregs of Ryeanna's glass. "Blood wine, or blackfire?" Joli had already slapped the bar, snapping the keep to attention. Ryeanna said to Tenebrae, "Either suits me.” Tenebrae nodded at Steadman, who was hasty in producing a red-hued bottle from under the counter, uncorking it and pouring the rich contents to the Lich-Queens' goblet. Tenebrae stood, an apologetic look given the other woman. "If you'll excuse me a moment..." Sharp eyes were leveled at Calen, as she stepped away.
Ryeanna picks up the goblet and rolls the thick liquid around with a minor motion of her wrist, "Thank you kindly I propose a toast then, to cooperation if you approve?"
Tenebrae turned back, though she kept the boy in her periphery. "Aye, lady, let us do that." Grabbing up a blood wine from the counter, she uncorked and raised it. "To a common venture. May the city prosper, and ever be in shadow." You drank a blood wine.
Ryeanna said to Tenebrae, "Of course, may Vailkrin prosper in its darkness always.” She brings the goblet to her lips and takes a healthy but rather large sip of the wine.
Calen does nothing aside from watching Tenebrae for the moment, an amused, but still very cold, grin plastered to his face. Even so, while he keeps track of the one with whom Ryeanna is conversing, a slight nod of his head, meant to convey his greetings to the latter, is now made.
Tenebrae was used to the vampire's silences and propensity for ignoring others utterly when it suited him. All the same, she hovered, returning Calen's nod with a curt dip of chin. Her voice rang clear across the room. "The Hanging Corpse, I fear, lad, is not a place for children..." Children that had no wish to be eaten, or corrupted, at any rate. It wasn't that Tene didn't like children. She just never could eat a whole one. She replaced the bottle to the counter, a polite nod given Ryeanna before she turned away again, her path leading not to Calen, whom she watched nevertheless, but toward the man seated at the piano. Reaching him, she stood expectantly aside his seat. "Mind if I ask you something, Majesty?"
Bathelemy strolls into the tavern this day, not enshrouded by his usual illusion. His hair was the only thing concealed, appearing to be a full brown rather than its usual white. His long black coat flows behind him as he walks over to the board, taking naught save a glance at it before scanning the patrons afterwards.
Ryeanna nods to the new stranger joining the tavern crowd.
Darian strokes his pebble-smooth chin and casts a half-drained bottle with indifferent vigor to the heath, striking in spatters of cascading glass and inciting liquor to flare the firelight to a phantasmal mocking of the sun, before the wetness doused and all was subject to the spectral fingers of darkening coals and dimly fluttering candlewicks, reaching their tendril fingers at the patrons. "Go on."
Tenebrae gave Steadman a withering look that had man standing ready, in case the latest guest should wish to order.
Calen seems almost offended for a moment by Tenebrae's words, but that's hardly true, for he's since started laughing, while his gaze is diverted to Ryeanna. Even then however, he's musing to himself, "Shouldn't judge based on appearances. Plus, you can't corrupt that which has been corrupted already."
Bathelemy cranes his head to face Tenebrae, deep crimson eyes meeting hers before he shakes his head lightly. He wasn't hungry at the moment, nor was he looking for a mind to flay. Should one know him, they would find this a very unusual set of moods for the noble-looking vampire.
Ryeanna nods to Calen, "Dark Greetings my old friend.”, and chuckles rather dryly at her emphasis on the old...
Tenebrae watched the bottle's flight, and subsequent explosion. Seating herself at the edge of the piano-stool, inadvertently nudging Darian's shoulder with her own, she looked him in the eye. "That Monk earlier.. he is Cabal now. I thought you should know... and...." She smiled softly. "I took the liberty of ordering you a bath and a fresh set of clothes... and..." This time her smile showed a hint of fang, amber glinting in her eyes. "I'm writing a song. I wondered perhaps if you might put it to music, when I'm done?"
Tenebrae returns a hard stare to the seeming child. She hadn't been kidding.
Calen again nods to Ryenna once she's greeted him, but almost immediately after, is again watching Tenebrae. He's now less wary than before, but still intent on watching her.
Bathelemy frowns lightly as he observes the clash between woman and child, obviously quite displeased with something that was occurring.
Tenebrae looked to Ryeanna next, and back to the lad. Somewhat disgruntled, she all the same trusted that the Lich Queen was not the type for babysitting, and therefore came to the conclusion that the child was not what he seemed, after all. Her ice-shaded eyes returned to Darian.
Bathelemy sighs lightly and exits the tavern quite slowly. Ryeanna laughs a rather wheezy chortle, "He is no more a mere child than myself and it amuses me that this is the case. Although his enemies have failed to see such humour in the past, it is quite s sight to behold when he finishes them off I assure you."
Darian took a swill and stayed his motions at the piano to listen as it trickled through his frame. "You're saying I can't kill him."
Calen now beams widely upon hearing what Ryeanna has said, and for now seems entirely relaxed. That likely is merely an illusion, to make those around feel at ease. Speaking to Ryeanna, he then says, "If only those pests would scurry out of the shadows where they're hiding."
Tenebrae slid her gaze toward Ryeanna, a wink given. "Understood, Lady. You must understand, I don't approve of such youth as he seems hanging about a pub, they tend to cause untold amounts of irritation and spillage." She looked to a rust-red blotch on the boards in the centre of the room. "I'll trouble him not."
Ryeanna said to Darian, "Having not seen yourself in a battle I could not say."
Ryeanna said to Tenebrae, "Good, we're all friends here and I doubt he'll spill any more drinks than myself."
Darian traced a soughing spiral in the bloodied stains of his keys. "I wasn't speaking to you. I wouldn't speak to you."
Once more, Tenebrae’s peridot eyes would shift toward the King of Roads. "I'm saying it, yes. Of course, you may attempt it, but I'd have to stop you." The ensuing smile was sweet and slow as molasses, and the clean scent of vanilla would waft from recently-bathed if still-blotched skin. "Now, will you object to that, and to my plans to have you made clean?" She didn't mention the song again, stung a little by his lack of reference to it.
Tenebrae added, with a slight frown, her voice lowering, "... and being snippy with our allies will only mean trouble, and the lack of your piano, and no more wine."
Ryeanna rolls her eyes and continues to sip from the glass, "Suit yourself.."
Tenebrae glanced up to Ryeanna, nodding toward the stain. "Ah, good. Though I wasn't talking about drinks.." A quick grin.
Ryeanna eyes widen and she grins slowly the remark dawning on her, "I see."
Darian said, "I don't have allies. And if a melody is what you need then attempting to keep my fingers from their keys would be only a comical paradox of irony. Steadmen, what's more, I'm sure is found enough of his remnant eye to keep him from declining me a goblet." Tenebrae settled her attention back to Darian. It was likely clear to the chaotically-behaved man that her Joliette-aspect had managed to struggle to the surface of her psyche once more. But beneath, in the wending abyss of her mind, another far more terrible aspect fumed and plotted, helpless to gain authority over the vampiress' remaining humanity. The vampiric blood it wielded coursed through their shared body, subdued for all but animal functions, caged as it were, and it ate at Tenebrae's core as would acid the flesh of an apple. None of this was apparent, except perhaps for the odd golden gleam sparking in cool green eyes. On that surface, Joliette was occupied with listening to Darian's reply. "Ah..." she said, when he was done. "But you see, Cabal does. And in turn then, so must I, and an alliance will keep you in wine and music. Have you no logic at all?" She arced a brow. "I need a home for us all, more than a melody. What I am attempting is to make sure there is adequate opportunity for both."
Darian said, "I need a home, or a hearth, or a bottle as much as I need a piano with a lustrous shine and notes like a sparrow sweeping through the day. The time will come when you have dealt your dealings and drank your wine and shook the chords of this piano to snap and scrape along its lid, but there is nothing but vagaries and voidity in the lot of it. As it is, I have no reason to suffer temperance."
Calen , for now at least, secures himself a seat, and at once upon this happening, leans back while watching the small group.
Tenebrae sighed softly, her lips compressing to a thinner line after, as she contemplated the blood-and-earth soiled form of the wanderer. "Then you also have no reason to keep my acquaintance, or my favour, it is plain." If there any emotion attached to the statement, it wasn't forthrightly shown. "If you must work against me, so be it." The sineater stood, brushed the creases from her leather skirt. "Pity. Seemed like we might have had some fun."
Darian lifted his shoulders. "I leave it to you to decide what is with, and what is against. All I can do is act." . Tenebrae showed no marked reaction to his response, for a moment, then leant down and spoke softly. "Then perhaps you might engage your mind, while you do it, and realise that I will not tolerate behaviour that erodes my plans to such a degree. And while you're thinking, think on this before you assume your wine supply safe: not only can I have Steadman replaced by something much larger and more able to defend itself, but I have also prevented him twice now from making dragon's blood a neat addition to the bottles he serves you. Internal combustion on your behalf is a distinct possibility." She straightened, something of the haughtiness of former days in her stance. "I had thought you rather smarter than the average yokel. I do so hate being wrong."
Darian said, "What you tolerate, again, is for you to decide, and none of my affair. So far as wine, I have gone without it. So far as vengeance and poisons from bathetic creatures, a worse death could be had, and it could come before I'd attach myself to feebly kowtowing for the lap of luxury or the eternal winding's sakes. Intelligence is most dissevered from indifference."
Tenebrae shifted her stance, a sinuous motion made despite strained ligaments and weariness of flesh. Her gaze was fixated on the vampire, for as long as it took for her to speak. "Then I shall have you removed from my pub, like a wart from a foot, come the morrow. Things of more importance call me away, for the now." She turned on a heel, making a divot in the timber below, and set stride toward Ryeanna.
Ryeanna pops a rather plump twinkling strawberry into her mouth, before turning to Calen, "Don't the pixies grow these? we best get a supply before they' are completely whiped out by the ogres."
Tenebrae said to Ryeanna, "My apologies for the paucity of good company, Lady. I am hoping we might speak of the ogrish invasion, at some point... But for now, I must away."
Calen , having been watching Darian, doesn't immediately register that he was spoken to by Ryeanna. When he finally does realize that, he is now glancing to the queen, talking to her while keeping some of his attention on the piano player, "So far as i'm aware, they are sold in one spot.. but as for who grows them, that eludes me. If you'd like, I can go and procure a decent supply for you."
Ryeanna said to Tenebrae, "No need for apologies, we shall speak of it at some point if it is your wish. If you must be away then I wish you profitable and interesting travels."
Ryeanna said to Calen, "No need for that. I am sure we will find a way to track some down even if we have to may the extortion the privateers in Port Rynvale charge."
Tenebrae looked to Calen next. "Don't go spilling your soda on my floor, now, kiddo, will you?" Her smirk was barely contained. Back to Ryeanna went those arctic-green eyes. "And you also." With that, she was making her way to the door.
Tenebrae turned, after a pause, a slight frown set on her brow. "Er.. I meant, safe travels. Not the bit about spilling soda." She'd allow the smirk free reign to bloom to a grin, once her back was to them.
Darian chuckles. "I do wonder if I shall be roasted or chilled," he spoke as he turned with drapery of tresses to funnel his vision on the keys, and sieve the light from his corneas. He slackened his fingers let them limply flush out a tune like the fanning of a royal hand or the rolling of chinked hail like dice down slanted rooftop. There were no words, merely the World - in Four notes, in 5 Notes, in 6 notes. Ostinato, and the clef was cleft by a soul-slip and sudden solo. The bats were scudding away for miles, as the place simmered with an echo-locale of the proportions of a pastel Titan's abode, and the heavens went envying this sonic revelry of mass and form and column and dome and shape - a palace of sound and sequence and simultaneous worship and disavowing of symmetry. And then, with a low, humming, wolfish, growling howl the forest primeval was constructed and composed and annotated on a staff-line in innumerable clefs and octaves "Slow as the sane on a break of day, we clipper through hallows, and should cinders snake our veins at the blood-hound's bay, we'll dip it all in tallow. When the world's in my pocket, when a body's on the rail, and a skull has been my locket, I shall simper a song of quails. There are songs for daylight's breaking on the weary and old, there are song's a light's quaking on the waxen world. Commit It To The Flames," and a sundry cluck of nail on ivory sounded out the end.
She paused in the doorway, not looking back, but lingered long enough to listen to the music he played, welling through the tavern's confines like a dam-break of sound, and his gruff intonations of words that shredded her resolve at the edges, set her shivering again as she had when his life and hers had mingled in the graveyard. Each note was a toll of a bell, signalling the finality of... but her mind was cloudy, and within her rose a soundless and bitter wail, and something wrapped in a darkness writhing like a pool of eels struggled to break loose. But she did not turn, only listened, until the final note shivered into the oblivion of silence.
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