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 Posted: Sat Jan 19, 2008 8:18 pm
He had been staring off into space, when an oh-so familiar voice called him a vatour. His soul smirked, pleased that another person agreed, though his mind was preoccupied, beyond that this familiar voice was calling him a vulture.
Oh, maybe it was the fact that the person speaking was dead that confused him.
He turned to her, to find her quite the same as he had last seen her. Her eyebrow was raised, and he raised his similarly, smiling back at her. The mention of... Clelial (he'd not so much as thought her name for years, didn't want to think of her death, and the good memories brought up bad once in turn) was a deep blow, but he didn't let that make him flinch away from this dead woman.
And so he sat, smiling playfully at Eluna as she insisted he talked with her. Of course, he knew he was insane, but he'd never actually hallucinated before, at least not to this degree. The realization that this woman was nothing more than a figment of his imagination was amusing as well, though why his subconscious chose Eluna, he had no idea.
"I would love to, mon chere, really I would," he said in a mocking tone, similar to the one she had been using with him. "What would you like to talk about?"
If he was insane enough to think Eluna was actually there, might as well have a pleasant conversation with himself while he was at it.
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Posted: Sat Jan 19, 2008 11:46 pm
"How about rearranging your face, Vatour?" Eluna smiled a sunny smile.
She could if she wanted to (no doubt her husband would find that utterly amusing) and the wishgranter wouldn't hesitate to do so if he was going to dismiss her as a hallucination or refuse to listen at all.
She wanted to repair the massive problems that had spawned from her death, well aware that it was her fault all of this had happened in the first place. It wasn't exactly all for herself that she wanted to fix everything either. The effect her chain reaction from dying had on the Tribulation family had been just as awful, and now she owed Clelia the fixing. Had Eluna known that dying would make her husband go insane, then Currise, then her son, and no doubt Halycon, and then finally causing Clelia to die, well, then none of that dying would have happened at all. But unlike Evanescere, she wasn't going to brood about it, but actually do something. She couldn't do anything in the past, but now there was a certain amount of time for her to set things straight.
And so she had to convince Currise, who was now a complete hybride, to help her.
When phrased that way, Eluna wasn't so positively sure she was sane either.
"If you would like, I could do that for you, to save us some time from you acting as if I'm not real at all. And if that does not convince you, mon ami, then maybe I will ask Anakera or Esperence to physically turn you into a vatour. And really, you might not even notice the difference." The women smiled beatifically at the blond, but her stare was clearly asking if he was taking her seriously now.
No doubt Clelia was watching, probably totally capable of helping the wishgranted beat some sense into Currise if she could only send her soul down as well. If only it was that easy.
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2008 7:46 am
And while the idea of Eluna being alive and in front of him made no sense, the idea of her rearranging his face making even less, he felt suddenly inclined to accept the notion. Considering that this was Pendant, and how few times the notions that followed decent logic actually came through, it was really very possible for Eluna to be sitting in front of him.
Of course, the possibility of her calling on their former captive, Anakera, to turn him into a vulture was really not all that pleasant.
"What might I be able to help you with, Eluna, mon chere?" he said, smiling back at her. It occurred to him that this "conversation" had a lot of false smiles, but the whole realization was only amusing. A lot of things were amusing these days.
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2008 8:08 am
Finally.
"Convince Evanescere to stop trying to torture and kill our son, mon ami," she said bluntly with a dark frown. "And you, stop with torturing your son. I cannot say she is happy with you now, and neither am I." Eluna drilled the man with a stare, much resembling Vash--or vice versa. "Comprenez? Any questions?"
She smiled lightly, but now because of the thought of setting things straight rather than because she wanted to smack the pompous fool in front of her.
And he was such a nice man.
Convincing her stubborn spouse would be enough of a task, but there was nobody else who could do it but his counterpart. Evanescere was bent on some twisted notion that it was Vash's fault she had died, and now he was absolutely mad, like when she had first met him. She sighed.
It was like going all the way back to beginning and doing everything over again, except this time she had to threaten Currise into fixing the mess.
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2008 9:40 am
Currise raised an eyebrow, smile falling. Convincing Evanescere that they should really kill this subordinate, or kidnap that citizen were entirely doable. Mainly because they didn't conflict completely and utterly with the vampire-man's interests, namely the one Eluna was asking him to convince the man out of doing.
"Surely you jest, mademoiselle," he said, completely disregarding the mention of his son. That was of no moment, after all, and certainly not her business. "You and I both know how stubborn your husband can be on the most trivial matters, and he does seem rather set when it comes to your son."
... And he was actually going to try because she was threatening to turn him into a vulture?
I hate you for giving her the idea.
"Hate me all you'd like, vatour. I do believe you could stand for some change, anyway. You sit around doing nothing all day anyway."
She's certainly giving me more than enough to do.
"It'll be good for you in your old age to have a task."
Shut your nonexistent mouth, vous valuer chien.
Augh. She's even got me speaking in French in my mind.
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Posted: Mon Jan 21, 2008 1:51 pm
"You're the only one alive that can do it," she insisted. Eluna paused, staring at the nobleman. She let her hands fall to her lap. "This isn't just for me, mon ami. I owe Clelia this much, and you certainly do--if you still love her, of course." The woman tilted her head, staring at him seriously. Did he?
He had better still love her, insane or not. Even then, he was enormously arrogant, even with the burns from when her husband set fire to the cathedral and with Clelia dying. The fact that Evanescere and Currise had snapped so easily wasn't comforting either. Mad; they were both raving.
So just how much longer would they live after this, really? Hopefully long enough to fix everything, and they'd certainly be alive when everyone separated. She grimaced slightly. She had forgotten about that little...intricacy.
"You must do this before the end of the week, Currise," she persisted. He didn't really have an option of 'yes' or 'no,' so there was no point in staying now, right?
"Adieu, mon ami. I will be watching." The wishgranted disappeared, leaving a shower of moon flowers on the end of the bed.
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Posted: Mon Jan 21, 2008 5:19 pm
He winced away at the name, and the clear below-the-belt shot. Of course he loved Clelia; if there was anyway that she could live and he die, he would do it in a heartbeat. She was perfect, utterly perfect, and while he was really pretty magnificent himself, her perfection blinded him. He'd never thought of how she would think of how he treated the boy. He could almost imagine what she would do. Smack him for one, probably push him to his seat on the nearest chair and glare down at him, hand on her hips, demanding to know what he thought he was doing. Of course, there would be a lot more profanity, because his Love did have quite the mouth on her.
The idea of having one week to convince arrogant, stubborn Evanescere to abort the mission he wanted to see through more than anything else struck him speechless, however, and that was quite a rare happening. She only left, not giving him time to demand how in the world he was supposed to do that.
Frustrated suddenly, he swatted the moon flowers off the end of the bed as they disintegrated. A week! He'd need to use at least the rest of the night to plan how to do it, and the beginning of tomorrow to make sure Evanescere was in a pleasant mood. No sense even attempting to convince the man to do something so trivial as make his own bed for once when he was in a bad mood. That, and adjust the man to contact. It would be a good idea, not because he had any intention of making a habit out of it when this nasty business was over with, but because if he could squeeze one promise out of the man while he was entranced in the utter euphoria, one little promise without being suspicious as to why he was touching him in the first place, then he would be done.
There wasn't much else he could do. Try to get the other man to promise him, (without mentioning seeing Eluna, of course, that could turn very very nasty) and hope for the best. There was no way to change a man's decision, only influence it, and if Evanescere was stuck on this course, then what else could he do? Sighing, Currise tore the little gray cord that held his ponytail up out of his hair, tossing it to the floor.
Currise flopped back against the bed, brushing his fingers through his hair. For the firs time since Clelia's death, he felt sane. Well, at least most of the way sane.
"Thank you, Eluna, for royally screwing me over," he muttered, words half hearted. Maybe he'd thought of Clelia too much today; he was starting to use her foul choice of words. Chuckling lightly, he began to mull over every possible way to force Evanescere's hand.
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Posted: Sat Feb 02, 2008 8:48 pm
Everything in her body told her that if she left, it was running away. And if she ran away, then it was possible that the two of them would never stop until one--or both--of them were dead. But what could she do to stop that? Nothing.
She almost walked into Lord Evanescere when she teleported into his mansion, and she quickly shifted back to the appearance of a boy before apologizing. Thankfully he didn't notice.
"I'm sorry, sir," she said quickly. The noble paused and stared sullenly at her. Fidel wiped her tears away in haste, grimacing. Instead of the sneer she expected, he frowned.
"Any particular...reason you're wearing that, Fidel?" he asked, raising an eyebrow almost indifferently. Inwardly, she kicked herself.
"Ah, excellent question, sir," she said with a smile. "It was...er, a dare." A dare? Whatever, she wasn't Emyrus.
"...A dare."
"Yes, you se--" she started.
"Whatever, I don't particularly care," he said, waving her off with a vaguely miserable expression and walking the opposite way. "Just look where you're going next time."
"...Yes, sir." the subordinate replied slowly, before remembering the situation. She shivered and threw herself into her room, curling into a fetal position in the middle of her bed.
They're both going to die and it's all your fault. Honestly, can't you do anything right when you love someone?
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Posted: Sat Feb 02, 2008 8:57 pm
"Finally."
He ducked what would have been a very nasty hit to his face and kicked Vash's legs out from under him with one fell swoop. He teleported out of the White Building, only to remember that he was bleeding and that Lord Batshit's father would suck his blood right out of him on sight.
Naturally he landed in front of Lord Evanescere when he teleported into the mansion.
"Hello sir! Bye sir!" he said, teleporting onto a street deep in Pendant's slums, hoping the place would both disgust Evanescere too much to pursue him, and provide a haven of confusing back streets in the the off chance Vash knew where he fled to.
He sighed explosively, tearing the bandages slowly off of him and throwing them in a gutter before heading at a trot to Batman's house.
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Posted: Sat Mar 08, 2008 7:31 pm
It scared the hell out of her.
Where was he? What if they had really killed each other?
Fidel took one deep, shaky breath and slumped out of the bathroom shower. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and her hair was disheveled and dripping--long, down to her slim waist, because keeping the appearance of an adolescent boy was tiring, and all of those tears had sucked the strength out of her.
What could she have done last night, really? All she did was get in the way, and it was pretty much her fault for Vash's decision to kill her. She rubbed at her eyes and ran a brush indifferently through her hair, before her soul sent a shock straight through her spine. The girl gasped and dropped the brush. The only thing she could do last night was wait for Emyrus's soul to be close enough to feel, but since they technically didn't have a real soul connection, he had to be in a smaller area for her to sense him. And now...
Fidel pulled on extra noblewoman clothes in a matter of seconds and teleported into the center of the Nobles' Section, ignoring the scoffs that she was no doubt receiving by the plethora. She met their scowls with a violent glare, before reminding herself that her objective was to find the right house, not pick a fight with these noble cocks, who obviously disapproved of her tangle of hair and lack of lavished makeup.
Of course, going door to door and asking for a lime-eyed liar wouldn't be the best idea, so Fidel drifted through the decadent Section, waiting for her soul to tug her to the right doorstep. Although, it wasn't so much a tug as it was a sharp jerk that felt like her soul was the one that was dragging her along.
"Slow down," she hissed under her breath, tripping down the cobblestone street.
Oh no, this needs to be done. After a few more minutes of tripping and running, Fidel came to an abrupt halt, which ended up with her landing hard on her rear on a huge wrap around porch. She lifted her eyes slowly, taking in the enormous window that hung above the ornate doors like a picture frame. This...this was it, right?
Of course this is it. Trust me, won't you? Fidel rolled her wide sapphire eyes and stood, dusting off her dress. Her hair was dry by now, and she was thankful it was spring, instead of winter or fall. She paused, this time to stare back at the door, and her heart thrummed against her ear drums. This house made her...nervous. It made no sense--she had dealt with nobles all her life! Her lips parted, and she clenched her fists, forcing her appearance to take on a more...noble form.
Holding back the disgust she felt about the whole ordeal, Fidel allowed her hair and body to fit what was considered proper and dignified in a nobleman's eyes.
Firstly, the corset tightened a little too much around her chest, and she made a face as she examined her hair, which was now properly done up. Secondly, the makeup felt almost as constricting as her corset, and her face had changed dramatically. "Gorgeous" was the proper term to describe her now, although being "gorgeous" certainly felt a lot like "suffocating" to the girl. A lovely noblewoman. Fidel grimaced. Trusting her soul that her counterpart was here, Emyrus would definitely recognize her, no matter what form she took. And besides, despite the discomfort, she couldn't just knock on a noble's door as a silly middle class girl.
With previous experience, it was easy to alter her demeanor to fit the part. In a sense, she was as much of a liar as Emyrus.
Don't mess anything else up. her soul warned. Nodding, the dignified woman lifted a hand and offered a confident row of knocks to the ornate doors. She knew then that she would accept any reason her counterpart was here.
Even if it was another woman.
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Posted: Sun Mar 09, 2008 4:42 pm
To say things weren't going going quite as planned was an understatement.
After Emyrus' arrogant greeting, Mother had stood and come running, hugging him, weeping all the while. He seemed shocked, and with good reason; his mother, who had always been beyond cruel to him, weeping because he was home again? She started spouting off all sorts of promises, telling him that she still loved him and always did, that she was so glad he'd come home. It wasn't until Emyrus shot Meyra a confused sort of, "can you calm her down for me please?" stare that she interceded. It was, sort of, what she had been going for; well, at least her mother was moving again.
She'd managed, by some miracle, to calm their mother down to some degree, so she wasn't either swearing things to Emyrus that they all knew she wouldn't keep and crying with each breath she took. The two were now sitting across the table from each other, talking politely. Emyrus was rigid, clearly out of his comfort zone with all of this, while their mother pretended not to notice. She asked all sorts of questions about Emyrus, who answered by lying through his teeth, making tales up that would be acceptable to their mother, but things that he would obviously never do if given the choice.
As the interrogation continued, she simply watched, waiting for Mother to snap. They all knew it was going to happen, in one form or another. It wasn't until she did actually snap that Meyra realized how much her mother had been calculating this reunion. She'd successfully torn down his fickle, weak walls and reverted him to some sort of obedient son in a matter of minutes. Mother had hugged him, swearing her love to her son once again, until she started to strangle him.
It was then that she knew it was a mistake to bring him here. She'd had her doubts, but it was worth a shot. She couldn't have Mother just sitting there while she ran around acting like she was fifty, making up lies left and right for her mother and sacrificing herself. Sinking against the couch, she watched, eyes wide and teeth biting at her lip, as Emyrus' face started to turn some odd shade of blue.
That was when a knock came on the door. Everyone froze, except Emyrus who was still shivering (she assumed it was in fear, since her brother had to be used to the torture by now, not that it was right of course) to listen to the still silence after the knock. Mother cursed, throwing Emyrus back onto the couch.
"You stay put," she ordered before walking away to answer the door. As soon as their mother was out of the room she flew to his side, watching him rub at his neck.
"Are you all right, Emyrus? I swear I didn't mean for this to happen," she said, sounding an awful lot like their mother only minutes ago. She sat back on her knees, sitting by his feet. She hoped more than anything that she wouldn't turn into her mother.
"I know, turtledove. It's not your fault."
--
Dammit, damn it. She had him, right in her hand! She pulled the shawl about her frail shoulder, pausing to look in a mirror. Well, she looked like a sick woman who just awoke. That's what she was supposed to be, too, so all the better.
Except that when she pulled open the door, she found a gorgeous young woman whom she had never seen nor heard of before, though clearly of noble stature. Ilaria coughed, backing up the sick facade, then gave the woman a smile.
"Can I help you?"
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Posted: Sun Mar 09, 2008 5:44 pm
The shock that rippled up her spine was sharper this time, and Fidel forced herself not to grimace.
Be careful! her soul hissed. The door opened.
"What do you mean, 'be careful'? she thought incredulously. "I'm on a noble's doorstep, pretending to be a dignified snot with a pole up her a**, and you're telling me to 'be careful?'"
A woman's voice caused her to look up and pay attention. Fidel flashed a smile back and offered a slight curtsy.
"Yes, I was wondering if you happened to know of a man named Emyrus--my fiance, you see," she explained, shaking her head with an apologetic expression. "He informed me of the address I could find him at, although I'm not quite sure if I heard him right." Fidel laughed a little--that dainty, tinkling laugh that all noblewoman had, as if they practiced it.
"I swear, if this corset gets any tighter..."
Shut up and pay attention.
The girl's stomach suddenly turned. The ill noblewoman in the doorway had the same eyes as her counterpart. Exactly how many people in the city of Pendant had lime green eyes? This had to be some kind of blood relation.
Coincidences never happened in Pendant. But that couldn't be right, because she was pretty sure Emyrus was middle class, not a noble. Fidel attempted to imagine him in the flashy masquerade balls, sipping wine and waltzing with beautiful, tittering noblewomen in tight corsets. She clenched her jaw.
That was the last thing she could imagine him doing--at least that's what she told her self.
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Posted: Sun Mar 09, 2008 7:00 pm
Oh, just damn it all to hell. How this enigma of a noblewoman happened to show up, knowing her son, and claiming to be engaged was beyond her! She frowned, shaking her head.
"How like him to say he would be here. You see, my nephew was disowned years ago. Always says he's still in the family; poor soul can't face facts. He never sent a word of notice that he would be coming," Ilaria sighed, playing the part of the piteous aunt to the letter. If she didn't have the same eye color (a damnably distinct one at that) she wouldn't have even bothered with the aunt nonsense. Her alibi, however, left nothing to be desired; no feasible holes, because there was no possibility this woman could know her son was here.
Perfect, as always.
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Posted: Sun Mar 23, 2008 9:16 pm
The situation at hand was just one of those times where it was best for her to just grin and bear it, at least for the sake of not snapping, stamping her foot impatiently, screaming at Emyrus's supposed aunt, and possibly ripping off her corset and mess her facade up entirely. The girl's face fell, and she feigned disappointment instead of doing said things. And really, what was with nobles and disowning? It wasn't like that stopped the disowned from being related to them--although she wouldn't put it past them to believe that.
"I see. I'm sorry to have troubled you, then." Fidel apologized, forcing a plastic smile. "--you lying b***h." she thought, turning away and down the porch steps to pout. There was only one thing she could do, which she probably should have done in the first place, anyway. It would have been more convenient, although...
Whether her soul counterpart was really a nobleman or not didn't mean anything--at the moment, anyway, and it wasn't surprising to think that he would lie about that. Fidel was pretty sure that he would lie about anything and everything if he wanted to, and certainly try and lie to her (which she could see through now, thanks to the soul connection), so it really shouldn't bother her at all. No, no, she wasn't bothered by it. Not one bit.
And you called her a lying b***h. her soul muttered.
She ignored it. "I'll have to break and enter, won't I?"
If by 'break and enter' you mean teleporting in, quiet and stealthy, then yes.
"Oh damn, I was sort of hoping I could break a few windows here and there and alert everyone within a two mile radius that I was breaking in to a noble's house. she thought caustically. Her soul only snorted a response while she managed to get out of the open, where everyone and their mother would probably see her teleport.
She had always known that Emyrus was hiding things, but never to this extent. Fidel was more than a little convinced that he had a lot more involvement with the nobles than he let on, and her encounter with his self-proclaimed aunt was also more than a little disturbing. She knew that he was there, in that house, which that noblewoman had denied, and that she had to be related to him somehow, which inevitably meant that he was a noble, but that didn't add up, because if that were the case, he should be waltzing with beautiful nobles and looking down at her, the middle class girl with a tangle of hair and way too short and fragile for her own good. She exhaled and went to lean against a tree, out of sight and mind reeling, when she accidentally tripped on apparent nothingness and fell again.
Forget about that and focus. How are you planning to break and enter if you can't even stand on your own two feet?
She muttered an oath, and sighed, looking apprehensively at the mansion Emyrus was in. She could still sense his soul, and closed her eyes.
"Here goes nothing," she whispered, and teleported into the house and into what looked like a broom cupboard.
All she could do now was hope her--the liar came to her.
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Posted: Mon Mar 24, 2008 4:22 pm
As if today wasn't already horrible! The thought tumbled through his mind as he sunk back into the couch. As if it weren't bad enough that he was stuck with his mother, presumably not going to be allowed to leave until the end of the day, or rather a few days from now if she had anything to do with it, but now Fidel was here too! It was absolutely not an option to let Fidel know anything about this goddamned house, or his involvement in it. It was bad enough that she at all, because he would have to explain why he was there, but now? Butterflies invaded his stomach at the mere thought.
She was somewhere in the house; that much was easy to figure out, because his soul start pining for her rather pathetically, desperate for the comfort of his counterpart in this horrible situation. However, he couldn't just wander around the house opening doors and looking for her, because Ilaria would be back any second and who knew what tempest she would bring with her. Of course, there was the fact that his baby sister would be left to acting fifty if he didn't stay the rest of the day. Then again, knowing Fidel, she wouldn't exactly be content to wait so long before doing something that could make Ilaria kill her with pleasure. He swallowed nervously, despite how his throat was trying to imitate sand paper.
So his options were all around shitty, but came to: A) ignore Ilaria and find Fidel, B) Ignore Fidel, hope she doesn't do anything too stupid, and stay until there was a good chance of Ilaria being her old self enough to give Meyra a break, or C) sneak out of the house and hide somewhere so that neither Meyra, Fidel, or Ilaria can find the spot. Option A would royally screw over his sister, Option B would piss off Fidel and screw up his friendship with her, and C would just get him into hell with everyone else.
Then again... there was always Option D, a choice that he'd always known of but not sure he wanted. Option D: Force Ilaria to hand over the Barony (murder an option), take his title, and in the process get Meyra off the hook off all her duties (they would be his). He could still keep his position in Evanescere's little organization if need be, just sleep in the house that would be his, and hope Fidel didn't hate him forever for being a noble.
Right about then, as he heard Ilaria's footsteps coming from down the hall, good ol' Option D was looking pretty tempting.
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