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  1. #21
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    Immediately full of concern, Stare pulled away from him, which was not something he particularly seemed to like. A snarl of dislike came to his face as she sat up, pushing his arm away significantly. His lips pursed as she started, and she felt a wave of regret coming from him.

    “What is it?” she asked. “You did something else to me? Am I … infertile?”

    Flatly, he glared at her. “It is not another factor of your existence that I have changed that I have not related to you. Rather, it is in connection to one that already exists. Before I speak, however I will say that I will not be persuaded to alter the situation that it is.”

    Tightly, her arms folded across her chest, brow rising, she spoke with a sour voice. “Vitruvion, what did you do?”

    “My dear, a little more respect would not go amiss,” he frowned. “Mutual respect in kind - I am telling you this, despite not considering it particularly more consequential than … well.”

    “‘My lord’ then. Better?”

    His lips drew a thin line, and his eyes narrowed back at her, but he sat up sharper. “Fine. I need to ...” he focused on the door for a moment, and Stare heard the scrape of a lock being drawn. There were a couple of seconds then as she felt a vague popping sensation inside of her ears, Vitruvion's mouth seemed to slow - then speed up. She recognised it as his spell to encase them in a deaf bubble, so that only he and her could hear what was said.

    After, he raised his hand and formed it into a pointing finger and indicated it at her chest. “Your soul is not within your body.”

    It took her a moment to process what he was saying. Her soul was …

    “What?”

    Vitruvion ceased to look at her as he slumped back into the sofa. “As I said, as you heard. Your soul resides elsewhere, not within your body. I was reluctant to tell you because of this,” he savagely gestured at her, “reaction, but -”

    “Where is it?” she asked quickly, her voice full of anxiety. “And am I … am I going to be sick, or ill or …?”

    “Firstly, it is very safe, and currently far away. I will not tell you more than that. Secondly, no, not at all. Paradoxically, you might actually be healthier as some diseases also affect the soul and as it is not with you …” He shrugged slightly, then looked down at his now slumped arm that had been tight around her. His lip curled with distaste.

    “Why would you do that?” she asked quietly, her heart hammering. “When …?” Though the answer to the latter question was somewhat more obvious. It was what he chose to answer first.

    “'When’ was when I and Galatirion cooperated to enable your mortality negligible,” he answered, his tone now foul and negative. It was clear it was to do with her reaction. “'Why’ is more complex. It will take some time of explanation. Now, you can either listen to me, and let do so, or interrupt me every few seconds in that rude manner you are prone to do.”

    He spat the last. Clearly, he was agitated and had not expected her to react as she had. Stare sucked in her breath, and moved back, away from him, pulse quickening. Her jaw tightened but she remained silent, but his words were more of an order tham anything. Indeed, she could interrupt him, but it was very clear that was not what he wanted. And with her recent pledge to him, and her willingness to accept him as the defacto authority in her life, Stare found herself reigning in her desire to retort and simply stared at him instead.

    “Thank you,” he growled. “Now,” he bent to grab the wine and his goblet with rough movements. “'Why’ has to do with the methods in which were used to make you immortal. When Galatirion first blessed the elves with long life he wove it into the very core of their beings - into their souls. This being his expertise, and the fact that he rarely imbues another race with immortality, he suggested the safe detachment of your soul from your body before we worked.” He poured the wine and then shoved it out towards her. Stare took it from him with tense fingers before setting it down, unused. Vitruvion, irritated still, leant back into the cushions. “Naturally, he suggested I do it, as your god, as my magic and yours are supremely intertwined. Thus, I removed your soul from your body, and once the process of true immortality was complete there seemed more reason to keep it out than place it back in.”
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  2. #22
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    He swigged a mouthful of wine, though still managed to keep it elegant. Stare's own hands were shaking, but she curled them into fists and shoved them between her legs to hold them still.

    “You might have not noticed, but your body is now quite immune to any magical effects that solely, or in combination with their usual tender, that enact on your soul. As they seek to find your soul within your body and cannot find it there, it is only particularly strong magics that will be able to do you any damage therein. That in itself is a remarkable power that few can boast of,” he paused a moment, and she felt sorely tempted to mutter in a comment. However, for the first time in perhaps forever with him she kept herself focused and quiet, saving any rude remarks until after his reasoning. “That and you have yet another layer of protection around you. Anyone wanting to 'steal your soul’ would be amiss, and find themselves quite surprised to learn the truth.”

    He swivelled his head to glare at her once more. “Clearly you have not noticed that you can no longer see your own aura. Your chakras are your energies, thus will still appear as per normal, however your halo that you see in others has quite gone. I imagined at one point you would have noticed, and questioned me upon it, yet apparently not …”

    His words faded to nothing. Her eyes were bright and open by this time, wondering how she could have not seen it. How it had been staring at her back every time she looked at herself in the mirror, under the influence of her aura sight. But then - then she realised how rare she actually did do such a thing. She had begun to actively avoid it when she saw her alignment begin to darken, when the neutrality in her had begun to dwindle and she had become more chaotic in nature. She had steadily changed from a socially neutral lichen tone to a more rebellious and impure blue, approaching Vitruvion's own passionate plum chaos that had never faded as the months had passed. As he had intentionally or not intentionally altered her outlook on life.

    It was therefore not surprising, as she considered it, that she had not noticed. Because actually looking at herself had made her feel ugly.

    “It's not ugliness,” Vitruvion responded, “It's simply having another outlook on life. I was as you were once, more positive about people and optimistic about the world, but when you have lived through what I have - what we have - then your perspective changes.”

    The change of subject seemed to be an indication that she could speak. Stare opened her beak to quietly respond.

    “I was fine as I was.”

    “Indeed, that is your opinion. Yet, we have already had this issue discussed in the conversation. Now we have what we have, and an agreement formed. Or has this changed your opinion about me, and your future now?” He was savage in his tone, reminding her of his intense anger which he had barely been able to control when they first met.

    The kenku kept her eyes on her knees, unmoving as she thought. About what he had done here, what he was saying. That she was not like others, and that her soul was entirely gone from her. Cut like Eteri cut small pieces of people away - snip, snip, snip - but in this case Vitruvion had taken it wholly from her body and left it somewhere else that he would not say. Safe, yes, she had no doubt that it was in the safest place he could possibly fathom seeing as it was hers, but not what she had been expecting. In fact she had not noticed it, there had been no signs such as feeling emotionally detached from anything so there still was a connection to her soul. It was just it resided elsewhere, not in the fragile casing of her body.

    “So when I died …” she mumbled.

    “When you die your mind and essentially being will be where your soul is currently. There it stayed - will stay - until your body has healed itself,” she heard the faint chugging noise as he threw wine down his throat, then a clang as he shoved the goblet back on the ground. “The mind is separate from the body, but also from the soul. In a normal person it will fade when the soul does, but for you it will leave your body and join your soul, your actual immortal section, and wait. It acts as a form of … catalyst between them.”

    There was silence as Stare took in what he said. She sucked in, before she asked, “I need … a moment to myself. Will you allow me to leave this room please?”

    “Don't leave the Hollow,” he growled as he threw up his hand. The door opened with a soft click and a purr of its hinges.

    “I was not going to,” she stood up slowly, her hands still fists by her waist. Then, without looking at him she very slightly bowed her head, then turned to quickly leave the room. Curious expressions and gasps of surprise came from the guards who were outwith. Vitruvion sourly ignored them, throwing his head back against the cushions of the sofa and continuing to glare, yet this time at the ceiling. He let his eyes slid closed.
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  3. #23
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    “So what … happened? If you don’t mind me asking? He seemed livid.”

    “He is livid,” she whispered, gazing into her mug of murky, brown lager. “Or at least frustrated with me.”

    Zulon perceptively observed her. “And that … frustrates you.”

    They were seated in a small mess room, that made up the social area for the guards within Vitruvion's apartments. Other guards of hosts who had less fine quarters came there also, as it was also connected to the upper kitchens. Warm food was bountiful and a fine choice of alcohol. Despite this, Stare had rarely found her way here, for she had preferred to spend more time out of the Hollow or within her own room. Yet, the room that had been described as 'hers’ had once been Ventrua's when she was more involved with Vitruvion's work, and considering the circumstances Stare did not think it appropriate to set one claw within the missing woman's halls. Ventrua, for all her faults, was still someone who had a good vein in her heart and was honest.

    Stare narrowed her eyes at the drink in her hands as Zulon spoke. His words were a statement and not a question.

    “Zulon …” she sighed.

    Hands raised in acceptance he sat forwards towards her in the armchair opposite her, “I am saying nothing more, Miss. Although, I will say I am happy you are better, that you seemed to have reached an agreement with Sir Elssmith.”

    But she could see him watching her, the same curiosity dancing in his eyes that had been since they had turned the corner to see him standing in close proximity. The same spark of inquisitive genius that had made him the perfect acting replacement for Raevin. It seemed that after he arranged for Stare and Vitruvion's belongings to be brought to the Hollow that he had lurked within reach of the small mess, just in case she should arrive.

    “We had a minor disagreement.”

    “Indeed,” he inclined his head slowly, but there was a smile at the corner of his lips.

    She kept staring into her lager, though due to her eyes being at angles to the normal expected positions of a humanoid she spied him doing so. She let the seconds pass, even lifting up the glass in her hands to drink back, yet still he smiled. Time passed uneasily, painfully almost and it took a lot of her incorrigible willpower to not turn around at the first few moments.

    Eventually, however, she knew she had to reply. Fully turning her head in his direction she paused to first check if there were many others nearby. As it was still the glory of the morning their numbers were few, and thus she found herself and Zulon far enough away from any prying ears. Not that the truth of what she was about to confess would remain in secret for very long.

    “Fine. It does frustrate me that he is angry with me. It does make me feel lesser about myself. The reason why he was ecstatic was because I've given in, and told him I'd willing stay with him for the foreseeable future. Which he has already stated will be as long as I live.”

    Zulon’s reaction was to blink. To stare in shock as the curiosity melted away from his face as he took in what she was saying. His lips parted as he sucked in his breath, sat up slowly, pulling his hands back from his knees.

    “But you're … wait but did not you find out you were …”

    “Immortal, yes,” she said stiffly, looking away, “so that means all the lives I have.”

    Zulon let out a quiet whistle. “Well. If you do not mind me saying so Miss Stare, that explains his … behaviour.”

    He spoke of Vitruvion carrying her as he had, parading her in front of the guards like she was some lover he was taking to bed. And he had held her close upon the sofa. Stare knew she would have to expect more of the closeness, despite it not getting closer than simple canoodling. Still, Vitruvion had already made such displays public, and Stare knew it would only be so long before they would be seen by all beyond the depths of the Hollow, out there in Beinost. Word would reach Mer’s ears and all hope in the elf of ever becoming Vitruvion's lover would fall to nought.

    The kenku closed her eyes softly, and took in a long breath. “I do not mind, Zulon. The rumours had already started.”

    “You've added fire to the flame, Miss.”
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  4. #24
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    The guard grinned a little. Stare knew he was thinking of the night at the theatre, when Sable had spoken. And Vitruvion had not denied it. After then he had tried to quell the rumours - or, rather, he had specifically tried to quell the ones concerning his feelings. Those exact ones. Rumours of romance were something else.

    She considered how he had rolled into her bed throughout the last year. All of those embraces were forced ones, that Stare had felt uncomfortable with, and resisted. Now that she had accepted that these public displays of affection were going to heavily be in her life, things would be smoother.

    “To make you aware, we are not … intimate.”

    He raised his brows but shrugged. “Still,” he spoke in a low voice. “Miss Stare, it does explain why he has not entertained Sable or Blaze recently …”

    Stare tightened her jaw and looked flatly at him. “Just to remind you, Zulon, he is connected to my mind, and can hear what you say.”

    He raised his hand in innocence. For a moment she continued to glare at him, though carefully keeping her emotions in check, so as not to cause him any harm. If she had lips they would be pursed.

    “The rumours will survive Miss Stare. Of course if you wish I will deny what I hear but they will spread.”

    Stare looked away again, but she knew she had to admit it. Very much, she already knew it; from the moment he had carried her in such a way it was only ever going to be a time. And word spread fast in the Hollow, for though the community was divergent it was few in number, and the guests had little to do but socially but converse - with each other and the guards, who were their only communication to the outside world. They would feed on what gossip they could and run riot.

    “I would not be surprised if it has already.”

    She was silent for a moment then replied dryly. “Well that is that,” the dullness of her eyes made it clear she was not amused.

    Zulon leant back, observing her as the wordlessness stretched between them. His hand played on the hilt of his sword. Stare drank slow, her eyes growing heavy with time. Things seemed unable to be said, and it came to be that she discovered she did not really want conversation, just to think about what this revelation meant. Did not having her soul in her current body make her more powerful, as Vitruvion had said? Or was he just saying that to make her feel better? The fact he would not tell her where it was - and she knew for definite that any attempt at persuasion on her part would not make him reveal it as she knew how stubborn he was - bothered her only a little. For the majority it mostly made her uncomfortable, even though she knew it would be safe. The god was so obsessed with keeping her safe that he was forcing her to move into the Hollow indefinitely. However, it still was very unnerving to know suddenly that her soul had not been in her body for more than three months now, without her ever realising or knowing.

    These thoughts played on her mind, and she found herself beginning to wallow in self pity. Her eyes grew duller as she finished off the last of her lager. Leaning back in the chair she stared at the wall, watching the way the errant steam from the kitchens nearby curled off them and strained in spiralling efforts to reach the small ventilation shafts that led back into the building of the Guard House. Her arms ended up folded across her chest as she sat there for an hour so in perfect irritation.

    After a long time she remembered Zulon was there too, and looked over, only to him not in the same chair. Instead he was over the other side of the room, talking in a low voice with another guard, evidently in the way that their heads were conspiratorially close discussing business. As she blinked at him she realised just how tired she was, after being up most of the night and still not with successful sleep. Indeed, she could fall asleep in this chair - the lager was certainly inviting her to - and her eyes had been drooping ever since he had come to speak to her, but it was not the most comfortable place. Going to Ventrua’s room was not an option because of the same reasons she had not gone to it originally, and the only other place was into the antechamber with her sofa, or Vitruvion’s bedroom, where she certainly did not want to be. For she was still in a bad mood with him and -

    An idea struck her as she looked at the acting Captain of the Guard. She realised he had been following her and Vitruvion through the night, but did not seem tired himself. Was it possible that he had briefly laid his head down, somewhere close by that did not need her to go far? Perhaps an overnight guard room for sleeping within Vitruvion’s apartments or similar, that had the potential to be empty this time of day.

    Quickly, she sat up, eye bright with the idea. “Zulon?” she asked.

    The guards’ conversation cut off sharply. Green eyes looked over to her, as well as a pair of hazel ones. “Miss Stare?” Zulon replied in the same tone.

    “Are there … sleeping quarters nearby? For you lot resting during the night, between shifts and so on?”

    Zulon looked over to his companion, then back to her. He paused, confusion in his face as he answered. “... Yes, there is. It’s just a couple of doors down from here. Why do you ask, Miss?”

    “Anybody in it now?” she was already starting to get up, brushing down her tunic.

    Slowly, he shook his head, sitting up as he realised her intentions. “No, Miss Stare, but-”

    She was already moving, raising a hand, “Thanks,” she said lightly, adjusting her wings as she strode. “If anyone is looking for me, tell him he can wait for me to wake up.”

    “Miss,” Zulon said in a strangled, shocked tone, “Miss, just wait, please …”

    His companion, however, rose a hand and touched Zulon lightly on the shoulder. Stare looked at the hazel-eyed man as she saw, and threw him a glinting pleasure in her eye before she left the room, now more confident.

    Apparently Vitruvion was either not interested or too busy to care about the fact she was looking elsewhere to rest. That or he was not even listening into her thoughts which, though it was a rare occurrence, was possible. At the moment she was quite satisfied not to receive any commentary from him as she moved down the corridor.

    Two doors, Zulon had said, and she lightly peered through one, finding a store cupboard, then another. In it was a low single bed, with cotton sheets and nothing grand. A small cabinet sat beside it with a small oil lantern that currently lit the room. Blinking, she rejoiced at the simplicity of it, and strode forwards into the room. Casually, she closed the door behind her, then headed straight for the bed. Onto it she collapsed right down, deliberately not thinking of anything, not stripping herself of any clothing. Stare fell onto her front, so her wings were in the air and she did not pause to pull the blanket over herself.

    Instead she closed her eyes, and invited sleep to come. For rest was needed for her, in a day like the one she was having. In a night, especially when she had found her voice and will after seven long days. Slowly she began to breathe, and let sleep come, her voice now given.
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  5. #25
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    “N-no, sir, she - she hasn't. She-she said that …”

    Peeking open one eye she glared at the door, irritated at the sounds that had lifted her from slumber.

    “I-I … I don't know sir.”

    Groaning quietly she grabbed a cushion, pulling it over her head. Her wings flopped uselessly from her back, as if wanting to wake up but the rest of her body was unwilling. Quite sharply she told them to back down, and they stilled. Mostly.

    There was a low, muttering voice of authority, that had no discernible words - yet still was understood enough for an answer.

    “Eh, yes sir. She - she just went in.”

    She huffed grumpily into the mattress under her, rolling her eyes about the lack of peace. It was different from the seven days within the antechamber, where sorrow had kept her from talking to anyone, and she was respected. Now it was if the world had a bone to pick with her and wanted her to suffer and be awake when her rest had been so little.

    Or she was not that sure. How late had she actually fallen asleep? Was it as yet night once more?

    “Eh - eh, sir!”

    “If you want her out sir,” came a fresher, crisper voice, “We will get her for you.”

    Stare opened one beady eye and peeked out from under the cushion. The door was still shut, and the room was still bare, but it was clear there were was eagerness for others to be within. Groaning a little she stretched and muttered under her breath about gods and how they couldn't leave her alone.

    Another low rumble, but this time it was questioning in tone.

    “What do I mean sir? I do not understand.”

    Yawning a little, she lifted her head up from the mattress, knowing that her chances of falling back asleep were limited. Her claws by her side flexed.

    “I mean she is yours, sir. So we will get her -”

    Slam!

    Now she was awake. Startled, both of her eyes opened and she sat up partly, looking at the door that was now a wooden mass shuddering amongst heavy stone. The slam did not seem to come from that, however, but rather the wall nearby, that was still responding with the force that had hit it. It was so horrendously powerful that it was making the door shudder.

    “The fuck do you think you are,” hissed the low voice, full of red hot fire, burning anger and loathing, “you dare …”

    “S-sir,” came the shocked, first voice. “P-please.”

    A second slam. Quickly, Stare sat up, her whole body now fully alert. Pushing the cushion to one side she began to slide out of the bed, heart racing but with more of an understanding now of what was going on, who was speaking and what he was doing.

    And now a fourth voice entered the fray. Whose she was certain was Zulon's, a peaceful negotiator in the apparent chaos outside. “Sir,” he tried to speak calmly, passively, “Harringdon did not mean-”

    “He perfectly knew well enough what he meant,” spat Vitruvion. Stare swung herself out of bed, tugging down her tunic. “I knew what he meant, and so do you, Zulon.”

    “Sir-”

    “But, sir she is yours,” came a choked intone. “She is-”
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  6. #26
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    Grabbing the door handle Stare hauled it open. Dully she blinked into the corridor light, blinking at what she saw, which was more or less what she had expected to see. Vitruvion was holding up a man against the wall just by the door, hand fixed around his neck and eyes blazing. On the other side was the same hazel-eyed man that Stare had seen in the small mess, as well as Zulon. They were all stunned, halting in their arguments as she came in, the focus of their contestation. Raising her brow she looked form one to the other and grunted.

    “Stop ... please.”

    Vitruvion narrowed his eyes slightly as he switched his gaze from the man he pinned, to her. Tiredly she stared right back at him, still having not entirely forgiven him - yet. But still, he was here, and clearly there had been something in what the pinned guard had said that had caused him anger, for the man could currently not speak, and was quite scrabbling at the hand.

    “Is he worth killing?” she asked, flatly.

    There was a pause. Hissing darkly Vitruvion straightened, and as he did he leant back. His vice-like grip loosened and suddenly the man was released. He slid down the wall, gasping and collapsing as the hazel-eyed one crouched by him, eager to assist.

    “This,” the god threw a dirty look at the guard, “is no longer fit to work here.” He curled a hand into a condemning finger to point at him. His eyes lifted to Zulon. “Let it be known that anyone who even dares to consider Stare one of my guests is very sorely mistaken. She might be mine, but you also also work under her.”

    Zulon’s hands tensed, but he nodded. “Yes, sir,” he quietly responded.

    “And you,” Vitruvion twisted around to glare at her. “I need you.”

    “I guessed as much,” she answered, soullessly.

    She dimly was aware of herself stretching, and as she extended her arms out in front of her, of Vitruvion taking a step forwards, and grabbing her around the waist. She blinked as he hoisted her up and slung her over his shoulder. She yawned as he started off the corridor, pausing for a moment before giving up, and letting her tired form hang limp. Zulon watched after them for a while, blinking blankly as she waved a hand farewell.

    Vitruvion barged his way through the door at the end of the small corridor, then into the main hallway. A surprised group - who guards alongside a startled Lament stared at his sudden intrusion. Scowling a little, Stare propped herself up on one arm as Vitruvion paused, then stepped around them to continue on his way.

    “I can walk,” she muttered quietly. She could feel her feet dangling and slightly swinging, as well as her wings were being crushed. But this seemed a temporary solution - Vitruvion apparently angered that someone had dared to suggest she could be brought to him like she had once been in the early months.

    He shoved open the door to the other half of his apartments, not replying. More guards, but this time his employees, appeared and gawped for a moment before glancing away. Vitruvion kept moving, his temper calming according to the slow in his stride, but still he did not loosen his hold. He waited until they were in the antechamber, and even then took his time to walk over to her sofa and deposited her by the pile of cushions.

    Raising her brow she looked at him, remaining where she was and pulling her hands to cup them on her lap. Slowly she blinked as her wings adjusted themselves into a more comfortable position and she waited for him to begin. He strode to the other side of the room, where his armchair was, alongside the large leather pouch containing the paper, and grabbed something from the top. It was a thin, white envelope that fit neatly into his long-fingered hand.

    Coming back over he thrust the letter at her. “This came. For you.”

    Stare paused, but slowly extended a hand, “a letter? This is worth waking me up for?”

    He lifted his chin slightly before moving to the side. Then he twisted, and sat elegantly down into the seat to the side - the one not obscured by cushions. He leant back into the sofa, slumping but still keeping his genteel demeanor.

    “So?”

    It was rare she got her own letters, that was true. And clearly he was making it his intention to have her open it in front of me. For a moment she considered asking for privacy, but then with him in her head he would likely find out soon anyway. Mind, body and effing soul.

    Turning the letter over she looked at the address, seeing that it had been scribed in a somewhat practised hand. It was one she recognised but was not sure where to pin it. It was addressed:

    ‘Miss Stare Tsukaka,
    Elssmith Manor,
    Beinost,
    Raiaera.
    ’

    Carefully she used a claw to begin slicing down the edge of the paper. Vitruvion watched, intrigued, his brow slightly creasing.
    Two pieces of paper fell out, one written in the same hand, and one with a capitalised scrawl, tucked behind it. Stare paused, before taking out the second page and was surprised to read:

    ‘NO MEAN GOD PLZ.’

    Her beak parted in surprise. There was a stir beside her as Vitruvion leant forwards and held out his hand. Quite eagerly she passed him the page with less writing, trying not to begin to laugh.

    “No … mean god pl-” he frowned, “what is that last word? Pulls?”

    “I think it is meant to be 'please,’ my lord,” her eyes grinned as she settled to read the rest.

    '"Dear Stare:
    I am pleased to inform you that you are cordially invited to the wedding between myself, Nevin Aaimaparapatois and one Eteri Yoko. The celebration will be held in two weeks time, in the Crimson Church located in Radasanth.

    Now that that formal bother is out of the way. We'd both appreciate it if you could make it, Stare. But I know things are not going well on your end so if you're too busy I understand. Raevin is recuperating well, and taking to his new leg with aplomb - he is invited as well, so I can keep an eye on him just in case. Try to keep the grumbler from weighing you down too much here if you want to come.
    ’

    Her brow lifted and her beak fell open in wide astonishment.

    “Holy Ansaldo's balls,” she whispered. “They're getting married.”

    “'Mean god,’ and … 'grumbler.’ I am assuming both of them refer to myself,” Vitruvion muttered, unappreciative and not amused.

    “Two weeks,” Stare paused, and anxiously looked to him. “Please.”

    “Please what?” he asked, his expression fully sour. “Can you go? That is out of the question.”

    Blinking a couple of times she was taken aback by his absolute rejection. “It's a wedding,” she stressed, “there are no assassins hiding in dark corners, especially not in Nevin's own church. They almost literally worship him there.”

    Vitruvion shifted uncomfortably and Stare found herself wincing. Mentioning worship was not a kind subject in front of him. Alongside the act of being forcefully placed into a mortal shell, the Raiaeran gods had also forbidden Vitruvion from receiving any form of worship. To do so would provide him with power, as gods were prone to gather, and thus make him a liable threat.

    “I apologise,” she said quietly, eyes dropping down. “... But I will be safe. Raevin is invited, and you can be in my head the entire time.”

    “Stare,” he looked at her quite seriously, “they describe me in vulgar manners.”

    “Yes, and I understand that infuriates you,” she inclined her head. “However, this is one of those situations that does concern myself, and hence, should be permitted to be open for negotiation.” She thought, then quickly added, “please, Vitruvion.”

    “This matter concerns your safety,” he growled, crushing the paper in his hand into a ball. He curled his fingers around it and gestured at her roughly.

    “Yes it does,” she accepted. “So what conditions would I be under, if I were to go.”

    He narrowed his eyes at her partly, jawline stern. His hand dropped to rest on his knee as he fell silent for a moment. She waited, knowing now was not a time to interrupt.

    “You do not stray from Raevin’s side. If I decide it is time for you to leave, you leave. No arguments. Also, you're getting a new weapon.”

    “I need a new weapon?” she asked, frowning.

    “Stare,” he growled impatiently.

    She huffed, but nodded. “I accept. And you'll be in the city also, I imagine.”

    “Ready to summon if it is the last resort, yes,” he nodded, thumbing the ring on his finger with the deep blue marble in it. She eyed it, agitated slightly at what it could do - namely, summon her to his side without prior warning. The act of doing so always irritated her, especially as he was in the habit of doing so without her knowledge. As such he limited the use of the power, yet still held it as an option.

    “Fine,” she nodded. “I accept that also. But I would like to hear the vows.”
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  7. #27
    Hero


    Garron's Avatar

    GP
    350

    Name
    Garron Ivari Cadeyrn
    Race
    Human
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    Thread Title: Her World Entirely Shattered and Remade
    Type: Basic Rewards


    Stare receives:

    EXP= 4600
    GP= 400

    Rewards to be added soon.
    "My life is simple, my food is plain, and my quarters are uncluttered. In all things, I have sought clarity. I face the troubles and problems of life and death willingly. Virtue, integrity and courage are my priorities. I can be approached, but never pushed; befriended but never coerced; killed but never shamed."

  8. #28
    Hero


    Garron's Avatar

    GP
    350

    Name
    Garron Ivari Cadeyrn
    Race
    Human
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    Rewards added.
    "My life is simple, my food is plain, and my quarters are uncluttered. In all things, I have sought clarity. I face the troubles and problems of life and death willingly. Virtue, integrity and courage are my priorities. I can be approached, but never pushed; befriended but never coerced; killed but never shamed."

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