Lady Chusi Chhatrapati clothing: Blanket and silky pink undergarments
Chusi looked at the pendant for a little while long, almost as if she was transfixed for a moment before she looked over at the count with her smile "Say what you want about dragons and their hoarding, my family is up with the lot of them. Its perhaps our only draconic trait." she said and gestured to the rest of the treasures in the room, the blood dotted earrings and broken necklaces that would probably do a lot more good being picked clean of the jewels they held and smelted down "We had this macabre hate of the Empire since a dragon took Ethe by force, since then we've basically paid our share of taxes to them in blood money so to speak" she said, she didn't know what Dixon would think of that but in her family using stolen goods to pay off ones debts was disrespectful as all hell, you weren't using the coin you earned.
She then listened to him speak and she slowly nodded her head "I think one should always look toward the future, but that the dead shouldn't be forgotten... or their bones covered by a road. A past shouldn't be thrown out and death shouldn't be a time of mourning but a time to celebrate life and all that the people that have died done" she said to him.
It was his question however about how she planned to handle tomorrow that seemed to stump her and she sighed as she closed her eyes in thought. She wouldn't speak for a moment, letting the silence and stale air surround her for a second before she slowly opened her golden eyes, as gold as the gold coins that surrounded her. Eyes that peaked out from the center of her copper face. Chusi sighed again as she reached up and took out the leather strap that held her long black hair up and let the dark locks fall around her shoulders "I don't know" she finally said as she looked at him with her golden eyes before turning them to the ground "It brings a strange fear into me that I never wished I knew, I think perhaps its called responsibility..." she trailed off and sighed yet again, her eyes darting to the ceiling "you've known how I act at times at the few meetings I've been at....not particularly temperamental but something close to it" she huffed as she brought a hand to the back of her neck and rubbed slightly "I know, truthfully I do, that I'm not so docile as many other women..... What I've seen of Lady Marigold seems to be what the ideal convictions of most women are, and though I recognize the strength of mind that Baroness Kai has.... her even toned judgement and eloquence. I know I don't really have any of that to call upon, being a female ruler in a military based system, being headstrong and impulsive...Perhaps in some eyes down right shrewish. I've very well aware I don't make good calls nor that I have the forethought to be as meticulous in my planning" Chusi shrugged "I've always had my brothers to guide me, and now that one is dead and the other is in all purposes the same...." again she trailed off, seeming to be very hesitant and very confused at her words "Tomorrow seems to be a very uncertain thing for Solidon, and myself."
Cotton Shorts Kid
Posted: Fri Sep 29, 2017 11:07 pm
✺
Forgotten Son
EC: 100
One couldn't fault her for disagreeing with the count in the slightest. His futurist stance was one founded on ambition and a sudden burst of energy, the insightful rhetoric of a man wanting nothing more but to himself be remembered. Dixon seemed to enjoy this conversation greatly, having the chance to engage the lady's mind in a way only previously offered him by the Stewardess Kai. However, when the conversation took a turn down one of the many semi-connected alleys of desperation and anxiety, the count had his cue to step up, to be that son of hope he'd marked on his living tombstone.
"You're right," said the count, somewhat flatly as he stepped to close the gap between them. "You're decisions are often brash, emotional responses." His face was very serious, as though he was reading from a journal rather than having a conversation. "The slightest insult to your family's honor has sent you over the edge, and you've been putting me in quite the predicament in regards of rallying the peerage..." His turn now to hang his head a bit, taking his gaze to the cold floor.
Something in that hollowed out rock of a room began to stir. It seemed to emanate from the count. His shoulders were steady, but there was the slightest trace of a laughing smile on his face. "However," he rejoined, reaching with a fair but menial hand to the lady's arm just below where her toned shoulder tapered in, "that bears naught on the future. May it die with other things that have outlived their usefulness." Dixon was in good spirits, yes, but he also seemed to hold a note of severity in his voice, as though whatever he was saying was some kind of prediction, or else prescription. He dared to pull himself closer, to envelop Chusi in his confident aura.
"You've already shown more poise than me--all this talk of ill-ease is nonsense, I'm afraid." The way his arms stabilized her, though she was strong, was of a level of support that he gave to others in place of his own. The man, going through his own crisis at the moment, found strength not in conquering over his own demons but in slaying the nightmarish ghouls assailing those around him, those close to him. This was his calling, he felt, and damn the heavens should they push back against him.
... Least he could have done in the moment. The count had always thought it better to give those with strong wills the kind of caudling befitted to warriors; in the time that he'd known the lady Chhatrapati, Dixon came to see very clearly that his hands were not yet rough enough to pierce her ferrous shell; that he could only reach her with the strength she wished to portray even when she had not grown soft before the enemy.
That night the winds had picked up again. This was no time to be flying. He knew that, even though it stung him to leave things unattended. An order was made for the courier to stay the night in Castle Solidon with the count, and, despite himself, in the midst of icy cold night, the count himself found he was easily lulled by the hollowed banshee winds. They were razors outside his window, threatening to cut down all those--and it should be mentioned that each time a gust pelted the castle walls the bighearted count winced and tightened his grip on his blankets, envisioning innumerable blades of ice thrown right through--those he loved--
... And yet sleep came easily to him. Surrounded by perhaps the most comfortable fabric in the castle save those meant for the heads of the House, yes, this could have been that feeling, that of a soft scratch behind the ears of a kitten each time his weary leg circled around in that large bed with an microcosm of temperatures itself, but it may have just been the knowing that he was not hesitant to help Chusi.
And as he inevitably dreamt of that soft, haughty smile, that bronze skin so to decorate her luminous soul in the style befitting a warrior, the strength of her surprisingly delicate, supple form--which, it should figure, culminated in a new, almost alchemic quality: grace--and the way she spoke to him, even when cross... --All those were the fabric of Dixon's world, but, as it is said in Ethe, there are two aspects to every day; though we see by day, the night is woven throughout. Indeed, he must learn to trust the proverb's assertion that one must always account for the unexpected, for as he slept those with eyes at his estate in Titania saw black figures bouncing along the horizon.
A search party would be out of the question, but Bernard had organized whatever forces were gathered at the estate to guard the house from invaders. Something did not seem quite right...
That nervousness was the energy that woke Dixon. It rolled over him in a dull light, revealing his chilled, numb form in stages so that the world might have gotten to warm up to him at an equal rate than the conventional way. He stayed by his bed, searching for and finding something with which to practice his writing.
Lady Chusi Chhatrapati clothing: Blanket and silky blue undergarments
Though nothing happened it was still quite unladylike what the soon-to-be duchess had done this cold night when the frost had crept across her window like razor laden nails, causing the glass to crack with a brittle 'krik' sound that had awoken her in the night. It reminded her of to many things, some she was proud of some she was not. That sound reminded her of a day her blade trainer had ordered her to smash her left hand under the hoof of a mighty stallion so she could learn how to write and fight with her right hand, it reminded her of watering eyes of one of the women she had fought with in training as she had one day taken it to far and had slammed the pommel of the sword into her thigh hard enough to cause it to snap.
Chusi looked down at her hand in the dark night and she had stood up, bringing her blanket with her and picking up a small sword she could hide on her person before she had snuck off to Dixon's chambers and had steadily opened the door and slipped inside without being questioned. That night she had looked upon the count and had tilted her head, her golden eyes reflecting whatever light could be gathered within them. She palmed the small sharp blade, he was so annoying some times, but. Chusi shook her head and instead just sheltered the blade at her hip and instead she had crawled on top of the blankets and had laid their all night until she had fallen asleep.
The very unladylike action would have been worse if either of her brothers had still been around, but they were not, and instead of simply staying still upon the blankets she had rolled down onto the cold floor in the middle of the night and had curled herself up into one of the tapestries that had been laid down to warm them, perfectly hidden by the largeness of the bed until of course... she kicked said gargantuan bed hard with her heel and woke up with a start and sat up and forgot that she had been inside the guest chamber, the tapestry falling to reveal her copper skin highlighted by the blue undergarment. She looked around wildly, like a startled rabbit before she noticed Dixon and her cheeks turned dark as blush rushed to them. She grabbed a blanket and covered herself "I-I-I-I will go see if breakfast is prepared" she said with a fair amount of embarrassment before making a dash for the door.
Why did he dream of her? Simply put, it was because she was there. At least, that was how he thought of it when he woke up next to the lady Chhatrapati. How on earth did that happen? Needless to say, as he looked over to find the strong woman on the floor--taking a moment to grapple with whether or not she had been pushed off or otherwise fell off--the count was overcome with guilt and confusion.
It was in his writing. What might have been a morning of coffee and conversation to stir up the inspiration now was a world his own; he chased it, the security of become lost in it, but each new sentence, word, stroke, was a plunge itself deeper into intrigue and sexy, villainous scandal. It all came to a crashing clamour about his feet as, shaking, when trying to pen out one word that might have been pure if only by comparison, he heard the thud of a kick; throughout the lady's speech he was silent, clutched tightly with ink running down his wrist. He managed to nod without turning.
As soon as Chusi left, the count's shoulders started to slowly loosen, falling to a level just above what was considered a normally calm position for him. A sigh went with it. The broken pen fell and Dixon allowed his head to tumble back. He stayed that way for a couple long breaths, pulling himself together again.
She'd be there any moment, thought the count, and so he moved to clean up. First was the desk. His hands made themselves faster to scoop and swipe at the ink and paper there until all was just a funny memory they could laugh at together later--hopefully. Next was himself. Couldn't go on facing the lady without proper attire.
Out of his pajamas, the count was hopping about in a corner of the room devoted almost completely to a dresser. The sun reflected a special glow on all the skin that was exposed, and only seemed to highlight the extreme redness in his face as Chusi would reenter, beholding his unmentionables just barely tucked away into his clothes for the day, one pant leg on, eyes like a helpless doe.
"... Erm... Good morning?" Dixon bit his lip hard to keep from screaming at himself. His other leg slammed into place at once.
After a little while Chusi arrived back at Count Dixon's chambers dressed in a very beautiful and intricately stitched hanfu of pale yellow and peach. She knocked before opening the door, however she remained on her side of the room, leaving him be inside his quarters, however temporary and she smiled slightly, ignoring the embarrassment that crept into her mind from earlier Dixon" she bowed her head to him before gesturing with one hand down the hallway "We have a breakfast prepared for you" she said to him with a small smile on her lips
Thankfully, the lady was perfectly mature about the whole situation. Sure, there was skin exposed; didn't mean one had to turn into a swooning, cackling mess of loudness and embarrassment.
Needless to say it went quite a ways to put the count at ease. In that moment, he decided as he slid the last of his clothes for the day with one fluid motion, the last son of Titania found that he was smiling softly, eyes to the floor and nodding just as gently. When finished with the transformation, he was more a regally glowing figure than a man stationed far below the crown.
Giving the lady, soon to be duchess, a once over, as could not be help given the eye-catching contrast of her bronze skin and her summery dress. "You look beautiful," he confessed with a lingering rosiness to his face, perhaps leftover from the previous embarrassment. In any case, he followed her to breakfast, making sure not to say too much or too little.
Chusi lead him back to the dining room and sat down at the head of the table "You look rather stunning yourself" she said to him as she leaned back in the chair and raised a hand up to pull her black hair forward so it fell over her shoulder and she smiled over at him as breakfast was brought in, it was light. Toast on buttered bread accompanied by two eggs and some tea. It was a warm breakfast for a cold day. Chusi looked over at the servant that brought it in and she nodded her head to her "inform Jaloux to start preparation for bread, it will need the extra time to rise" she whispered and the woman bowed her head and scurried off.
Chusi then looked over at the Count and picked up her toast, taking a bite and chewing, avoiding his gaze for a moment before looking back up once she had swallowed "I'm sorry about being in your room last evening" she said to him "and I express some sorrow that the roads are to icy to travel and the cold is making it to troublesome to travel" she said to him, a slight smile on her face "Though I quite enjoy your company, so I'm in no way annoyed at your presence..." she paused to take another bite "it makes the house feel slightly less large" she said to him as she poked at the egg and took another bite as the woke leaked onto the plate.
"No no," objected the count, pumping the brakes with flattened palms before his chest, "I would say it just as quickly that I was imposing because of such dreadful weather..." His lips began to curl, somewhat more devilishly than his usual resting smile. "Though to hear my presence hadn't been a burden was something I must be thankful for. Not everyday a body can escape the cold in such a charming way--"he sat the piece of bread he held down with a sort of confusion played out between his hand and head--"ah, but it must be boring for you; no novelty at all in wandering about these old halls."
Indeed the flavors did seem to pop this morning. Dixon had savored a good portion of his toast before continuing. It did eat at him as well: "I'm afraid I must ask... Why did you come to my bad last night?"
Chusi was eating when he asked and she felt her face heat up as she began blushing. She slowly put her toast back into the yolk and swirled it for a second "I have no reason why I was" she said and she pressed her lips together "Maybe I was worried you weren't warm enough" she said, but said nothing more as she ended up nibbling on her toast now instead of outright biting into it, she was feeling more embarrassed by that question, but then she coughed slightly and looked over at him, a grin coming to part her lips "but don't worry, you were a perfect gentleman and didn't try anything no matter how much I cuddled you" she said, lowering her eyelids, it was a very clear lie to her, but she didn't know if he knew that.
She then turned back to her food and finished her toast before starting to eat the eggs "So, Dixon, does anything about Solidon peak your curiosity?" she asked him, smiling once more.
No! I mustn't think of it. What passed happened and...
--Though it was well hidden by the count's resting smile, the churning might have manifested in the warble of his voice as he spoke up. "I see..."
What could he say about what interested him now about the region but the women? Imagining all the strong women he could handle... quickly, the numbers dwindled to one--and even this was tentative. Now it was his turn to show the ruddiness of winter on his face. "Now that, milady, is a difficult thing to narrow down."
"When I'm in Solidon," continued Dixon, "I feel as though I'm in another world. You seem to be fully capable, and yet only the strongest of these burly warriors survives." He gave a small shrug. "I think it interests me most how love could take root in such a hard place."
That night after the embarrassing show at the museum, the boy baron did little but sulk in his room. All he wanted to do was help out; and when he saw the duchess in all her wild beauty, all he wanted to do was...
Well, suppose that had been presented already. That was the problem, wasn't it, that he was for the first time in many moons ignored in that way and reduced to such a begging lump in the first place. He couldn't fathom how it could've happened. He'd always been such a ladies' man! If it wasn't good enough for him, the "courting" wouldn't last a week, but now, as they say, the shoe was on the other foot, and the baron found himself spun around regardless, whipped about a stuck to the window sil to bake all day as the morning sun finally made itself known.
"Really, master, haven't you dragged your feet enough?" Head of staff Giorgione Romero takes the last of Vohku Almin's barely-touched plates at breakfast, setting his eyes on the downturned stare of our lost baron. "I can't remember if I've actually seen you this way or whether these long summers have finally gotten to me." Calling for the stray maid and butler here and there, a short devil of activity is woke by his cold snapping fingers.
"... Do tell me you can carry on, master. I've already made preparations for your--"
"That'll do nicely, Gio." Almin, pushing the last of his forks away onto the maid-cruise kitchen-bound, looks and sees a responsive star--a spark from a crest of a wave--in the head butler's eye and stops short of lecturing (perhaps for both) the conversation with a stiff but professional, short but no less full pair of nods.
┈━┈━┈━~═☆
His skin had tanned considerably in the time he'd been searching the desert for what might be perhaps his living legacy to add to the already impressive family of inventors and beast-slayers. He studied that man in the mirror as long as it would have his company, then again in the memory that shaped the clouds around his small aerial caravan into visages of his most handsome angles and those that found them so; those that were his unsung heroes in the way, week by week, month by month, their accepting his denial staved off the denial of his own self-acceptance.
Fragile as he was, mentally checking off the list of items that would be needed in his bag was another such device employed just as often. He knew from a young age that they--those with power and prestige greater than his--would come to scrutinise every one of his endeavors, skills, strengths, weaknesses, until he had nothing more to enjoy in himself that could be called Vohku Almin.
When he thought of the duchess Chhatrapati, buffeted by suddenly cooler, more moist air, he could think of no name in those alien syllables.
By the time he'd landed at the grounds of the ducal castle the young lung was almost hysterical. Not to be disproven (regarding the whole respect issue), one his guards supplied the baron with an encouraging slap on his way to the duchess' door.
┈━┈━┈━~═☆
Stock:
❧[1] Clover
--Lucky and more charismatic than usual. 0/5 turns (inactive)
❧[2] Narcissus
-- Grants user the ability to transpose a shadowy copy of themselves across a distance which extends by 100m ever turn for 5 turns. After this, the copy vanishes, wherever it is. Takes 2 turns to activate after ingesting. (inactive)
❧[3] Hypernemia solution
-- A mixture born out of necessity in order to manage the master’s low stamina. With this potable at hand, the lung dragon finds himself seldom short on breath. 5 turns per bottle--stamina jumps to 30. 3 turn cool.
❧[4] Stone Cloves
-- These handy snacks are ideal for raising defense in a pinch. Once ingested, the skin and hair of the user will turn to solid stone for 3 turns. Cooldown: 3.
❧[1] Kit
-- When studying new areas the young baron can’t be caught out of the science-ing, and so this mid-sized bag is fitted with all manner of testing equipment to get an alchemical handle on the situation quickly.
Purse:
❧Current purse: 120EC
❧Total funds: 2500EC
Quotes:
Quote:
Demon Countess
Quote:
Posted: Thu Dec 21, 2017 3:35 am
Demon Countess
Lady Chusi Chhatrapati clothing: Leather top and bottoms, fur boots, Fur cap
Chusi had returned home early yesterday flustered and embarrassed, even those that knew her quite well had been confused when she had come storming into the main Chhatrapati residence tearing at what she called stupid frilly clothing. She had thought she had been so successful but to be shot down just like that, who did the count think he was! With that in mind and a blush on her face she had changed out of the pretty clothing she had worn and threw them into the closet, instead dawning fur lined clothing and fur boots, heading out in the middle of the night to go hunting, doubting that the Count would ever take up her offer.
~~~~
So when Baron Almin had come to the main castle several servants would look at him with wide eyes and hesitant glances, it was a dragon as far as they could tell. Dragons only ever brought bad luck and misfortune. Many of them avoided him while a few went around looking for someone to get either to shoo him away or outright kill him, but the wait wouldnt be that long until a rather stocky looking woman (not bad looking) with long white hair pulled back into hundreds of tiny white braids pulled up into a tight tail that hit her back with each step would stand before him. She was tan skinned and held within her sockets those famed golden Chhatrapati eyes. Where Chusi may have been considered something like the sun with her temper and bright flaring aura this woman instead looked and seemed to embody a even tempered and tightly controlled moon. The woman would bring a fist to her chest and hit slightly before inclining her head just enough to be respectful "Greetings lordly one. I am Vasu." she would raise her head and lower her fist, letting her hand relax "Duchess Chhatrapati has changed residence for the time being and may not be back until she has finished with her tasks. I have heard that a water doctor was supposed to come by, if you are willing to make the trip we can escort you to the Duchess within about an hour."
Was there something on his face? The baron, not having seen the atrocities committed by either race to each other first hand--it was simply before his time, though he had been educated on it briefly--seemed just as confused as the furtive glances bounced off him that bounced his sand-struck gaze all over the stoic, stately castle; it seemed like the door was lurching back from him with every step.
There was, however, one person who wasn't afraid of him. In a flash, the visage of the duchess plus some years and wisdom was standing before him, only eyeing him with what might be construed as mild annoyance; these people, thought the baron quickly, were not the time to wait for a man to react to his own feelings--the mental fumblings of passive conversation; he stood erect, finally eclipsing the woman's height by some three heads above her. His bow was reverent but short.
"Thank you, madam. I would be quite happy to." He pointed with his thumb to the men behind him, looking ready to fly. "However, I must request my men fly with us. They have the bulk of my supplies, you see."
┈━┈━┈━~═☆
Stock:
❧[1] Clover
--Lucky and more charismatic than usual. 0/5 turns (inactive)
❧[2] Narcissus
-- Grants user the ability to transpose a shadowy copy of themselves across a distance which extends by 100m ever turn for 5 turns. After this, the copy vanishes, wherever it is. Takes 2 turns to activate after ingesting. (inactive)
❧[3] Hypernemia solution
-- A mixture born out of necessity in order to manage the master’s low stamina. With this potable at hand, the lung dragon finds himself seldom short on breath. 5 turns per bottle--stamina jumps to 30. 3 turn cool.
❧[4] Stone Cloves
-- These handy snacks are ideal for raising defense in a pinch. Once ingested, the skin and hair of the user will turn to solid stone for 3 turns. Cooldown: 3.
❧[1] Kit
-- When studying new areas the young baron can’t be caught out of the science-ing, and so this mid-sized bag is fitted with all manner of testing equipment to get an alchemical handle on the situation quickly.
