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knife effect Vice Captain
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 Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 10:36 am
Just A Little Faint
This is a Private RP between:
Plat and Piss
With Appearances by:
Dorian
Felicity and Claudia
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Where: The Streets of Shyregoed
When: Night
Status: Finished
✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 10:54 am
p***sThe taciturn streets of Shyregoed were more quiet than usual towards the nearing of midnight. Dorian normally would've stayed within the boundaries of his home at such an hour, but ever since the episode with Linda, his head required a relief from all pandemonium. It was only in the night could a person truly be free of the scrutinizing of the sun anyhow, and true to the philosophy, he'd felt trapped and irascible in his meeting with the girl with the locks of the sun. He figured that Linda wouldn't be seeing him in awhile. He didn't blame her, but he wasn't sorry.
p***sIn most cases, the gadfly would be the one to blame, meaning, Dorian. However, Linda's insensitivity towards his family life was disturbing to him. His reaction wasn't draconian, no, simply a "self-defense" mechanism that had been sleeping within him for quite some time. She was just the unlucky peasant that triggered it. To an outsider, the malefactor (or malefactress) in his previous episode would most likely be unclear.
p***sDorian tried to shake the ugly thoughts away, forgetting about Linda Reese and her fallen form. Shyregoed's night breeze whispered "forget" into his ears, and he succumbed.
p***sIt was forgotten.
p***sThe reason he'd left the house had been fulfilled, and now he was wandering aimlessly around the streets to vegetate. Linda's words were still unsettling to him, not the ones he'd forgotten, just the fact that she had questions for him.
p***s...did the other Shyregoedians think of him as the culprit?
p***sIt was then that he noticed that Nancy's hot cocoa was clutched firmly in his hands.
p***sHe'd brought it out with him without thinking.
p***sDorian was slightly baffled at how warmth was still radiation from a beverage made a day ago.
p***sHow strange.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 12:20 pm
The night air was surprisingly mild as the figure clad in colours of the night slipped out of the front door and onto the cobbled street. Usually the cold in the Shyregoad streets was enough to take the woman’s breath away when she left the warming comfort of the hearthside to plunge into the outside world. However, in this instance she only exhaled a small puff of warm vapour before clattering down the cobbled street, rubbing her bony hands together and muttering to herself... Or at least, that’s what it looked like to anyone foolish enough to peep out of their windows at the night-time wanderer. In reality Felicity was talking to Claudia who was debating whether it was really mild enough to make an exit from her sheltered position inside the obscuvian’s pocket.
“If I find it’s too cold...” The hanging threat stung the woman enough for her to glance nervously around as though there would be some form of confirmation that it was indeed the right temperature for the rose. She did not fancy having her hair pulled yet again... It was beginning to show when she combed it; coming out in little clumps and leaving the occasional straggly stress patch. Never the less it was too late now regardless as her pocket was wiggling furiously and moments later a flowerclad head had poked out and black clawed fingers were scrabbling up her body until Claudia sat in her usual perch on the northerner’s shoulder.
“Hmmm.” Felicity waited for the axe to fall as the rose seemed to test the air temperature.... However, the strike never came and instead the flower simply swung her legs slightly. “Hurry up you dolt. We can’t arrive late... And you’d best put on your mask.”
Obliging to both commands Felicity stumbled faster away from her house. She didn’t want to don her mask just yet just in case anyone spotted her and recognised her... But after she turned the corner she had it fastened to her face and it was no longer the nervous Felicity Wickes scuttling through the gloom, but rather she was a disciple of the glutton god: strong and confident with her chaotic excitos faithfully at her side. However, it was this increased speed and reduced visibility thanks to her beaked mask that meant that she could have no way of keeping a good look out at what, or who, was just up ahead or round the corner...
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 2:09 pm
p***sDorian continued his nocturnal stroll, kicking the snow beneath him with every few steps or so (seven times for an auspicious to-be morning), humming a loose, self-invented tune. The arcane music allowed his mind to breathe; he was thinking like himself again, clearly. He granted a small puff of breath into his hot beverage, watching his smoky vapor blend with the hot chocolate's own. The hot cocoa seemed to respond to him almost, its smoke growing thicker with every thought. Thoughts of Nancy. Thoughts of what her absence would make the remainder of his life to be. Thoughts of how many people suspected him as a culprit. Unpleasant thoughts. Thoughts that a priest couldn't admonish. Thoughts of banal peasants that were in slumber in the dead of night.
p***s"Where are you, Nancy?"The Arelgren boy whispered as his eyes probed the black liquid for a sign.
p***sNormally, a person would have pined for their mother or father more needly than their maid in times of complete solitude. Having no parental bonds to begin with, it was natural that Dorian would pine for the other.
p***sHe gave up after three seconds or so. The supernatural or whatever higher power it was that commanded the natural order would have more sophisticated means of communicating to mortals that certainly did not involve hot cocoa. He was foolish to try, foolish to stare--though he knew ultimately that he was forming his own naivete.
p***sHe wanted to believe that Nancy survived the plague. He wanted to stay in Shyregoad so that if she returned, he would be there.
p***sSighing, Dorian resumed his pace, quickening it while holding his mug steady.
p***s"Foolish Dorian," he muttered to himself, quickening his pace into wide strides, eyes shut closed in frustration. He chose an opportune moment to act.
p***sUnfortunately, his awareness was shut down completely, and when they were operative again, he realized he was too late to stop himself as he bumped into a masked figure. He gazed into the beaked mask that contrasted with the darkness of the night, and a dreading feeling filled his stomach.
p***sA harbinger? A thief? A god?
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 3:25 pm
“Oh!”
Felicity started as she was confronted by a man also wandering the streets in the dead of night. She hadn’t expected anyone out so late – that was the main reason she and Claudia felt it was ok to be so very public about wearing her mask – and instantly she was taking a few steps back, out of reach of the man. If he turned out to be aligned with the mages in some manner that would spell seriously bad news for her: One wrench of his arm and her mask could be removed and her identity exposed. And if that happened she would never be able to interact within the mage’s circle again... Her cover would be blown, Jin-Ho would hate her and her usefulness to her superiors would be shattered. Even if he didn’t happen to be a member of the fellowship the kind of people who took to the streets at times like this weren’t typically the most desirable. On her night-time travels to and from meetings with other Obscuvians she had often side-stepped drunkards, hidden from thuggish looking characters and nervously skittered past women of the night...
Judging by the steaming drink he was clasping her mind instantly labelled him as a drunk and the confidence imbued in her by her mask faded away. Drunks were tricky... Sometimes they could be jovial and harmless, but on the flip side they could be demonic – possessed with liquor fuelled violence. She seriously hoped he wasn’t the latter variety.
“I’m s-sorry.” She exclaimed, still inching backwards, ready to make a dash for it should he either lurch to attack her or try to expose her. “I.. I...” What excuse could she make...? Even if he wasn’t aware of the cultist’s rituals and dress it wasn’t exactly normal to be traversing the city at night and with a bird mask upon one’s face. She needed a good excuse. As per usual her quick witted and sharp tongued plague provided a brilliant distraction to her panic.
“What do you say?!” Claudia quipped, standing up on Felicity’s shoulder and crossing her arms. She had an exceedingly accusational tone of voice and stance and demanded all attention, ideally keeping the man from thinking clearly about the strange mask that her Grimm was wearing. “Crashing into a lady like that... It’s simply not gentlemanly. You should be ashamed.” Of course the flower meant none of what she was saying, if it wasn’t for the inherent need to protect her guardian and baffle this man with her presence and stern words Claudia would have most certainly been giving the mouse-like woman a verbal lashing for her carelessness.
“Hmmm?! What do you have to say for yourself? Apologise.”
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 3:50 pm
p***sDorian strangled the scream in his throat at the sight of the macabre, fiendish creature fuming on the shoulder of the figure he'd bumped into. His eyes widened as they absorbed the demonic details of the creature's appearance; it wore pale, rose petals as its attire, leafy legs and arms protruding from its body. The beaked mask of the figure no longer intimidated him, for now the intimidation came from a smaller form altogether--which was almost paradoxical for Dorian always felt that he was the almighty in every circumstance. He knew nothing at the moment of the duo, save for the new enlightenment that the figure was a woman (from the sound of her voice and the thing calling the said figure a 'lady').
p***sDorian collected himself, one hand lowering the hot cocoa that seemed to wane in warmth in his gloved hand, and with his un-gloved hand, he scratched the ribbon on his collar. What was he to say in response? What could he say in response? The woman was obviously as startled as he was, her furtive movements spoke for her. Her uncanny appearance, well, it mirrored her companion well, and after a few seconds of staring, the two seemed to match each other to the extent that Dorian no longer questioned their mundaneness.
p***sHe concluded that they were not of the ordinary. Urbane? He couldn't know at this point, but peculiar, yes. After all, he was just as strange himself. Most people were asleep at this hour. He wondered if the lady mistook him as a drunk. He did have a mug in his hand. It was too dark to even figure if he'd spilled any of its dark contents onto the lady's clothes. No matter, it was of no importance, as far as the creature was concerned.
p***sThat makes three of us, he noted mentally, taking care to include the small impish creature that quipped at him.
p***sWell. He had to say something.
p***sHe cleared his throat.
p***s"I say nothing, because I merely turned a corner. The darkness of the night cloaked the both of you, therefore I was incapable of seeing the lady, and bumped into her,"he started slowly, eyes unwavering from the duo. He broke out a sympathetic smile (that he exhibited rarely, and hadn't since Nancy's departure) to hopefully cast an aura of reassurance and security, "You really shouldn't apologize, madam. It wasn't as if it was your fault. The night casts its spell of clumsiness against those that suffered in the day. It's just how the world is. Cruel, yes?"
p***sHe sighed. How to continue?
p***s"If you are to hold me responsible for the situation, I suppose I don't mind. My title is 'Dorian Arelgren', son of ghosts, bearer of the weird hot cocoa that doesn't cool."
p***sHe meant to add the last snippet as a joke.
p***s"If the two of you haven't heard of me, you're very fortunate. The entire Shyregoed more or less despises my figure. I've been burned in effigy before. Though tonight, I walk the Shyregoed streets, not as a drunk, just...a lost man in the need of faith."
p***sHe needed to vent. He didn't care who he vented towards anymore, or what, but Nancy's death was not something that was capable of containing to his own self. Dorian's dogma didn't permit it, and whether the duo was imbibing what he was saying at all mattered to him very little.
p***s"If the two of you haven't heard of me, you're very fortunate. The entire Shyregoed more or less despises my figure. I've been burned in effigy before. Though tonight, I walk the Shyregoed streets, not as a drunk, just...a lost man in the need of faith."
p***sHe needed to vent. He didn't care who he vented towards anymore, or what, but Nancy's death was not something that was capable of containing to his own self. Dorian's dogma didn't permit it, and whether the duo was imbibing what he was saying at all mattered to him very little.
p***s"A good friend of mine passed away from the Plague. I have only this to accompany me in memory of her now, my maid," He gestured towards the clay mug in his hand. "I reckon it's her love that keeps it brewing warm and black. Er. Black-colored."
p***sI'm probably sharing too much. It doesn't really matter anymore, Dorian.
p***sSighing, Dorian's gaze shifted towards the creature, finally. It seemed paranormal. Perhaps it would have answers.
p***s"I'm not going to ask who you are, either of you, I just want your opinion of my situation," Dorian said quietly, his voice lowering into a hush. It didn't matter who or what answers came from any longer.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Thu Feb 24, 2011 11:49 am
Strutting about Felicity’s shoulder, Claudia was ready to strike and leap at the man’s eyes should he attempt to get a good look at Felicity’s features. Fortunately rather than trying to leech information out of the unusual pair he was gushing his own details – his name, Dorian, his life story practically... He was an unpopular figure? Claudia shrugged. She wouldn’t know. Perhaps if he was something to do with The House she would have heard of him, but due to Felicity’s withdrawn and fragile nature they didn’t really speak to the common man often enough to hear the news around the town. Not that kind of gossip wouldn’t interest the rose; whatever pitiful humans thought of each other didn’t even begin to spike her interest... Although seeing a lynch mob in action could be quite thrilling. All those heightened emotions, the bloodlust, the glee as the effigy caught alight. It brought memories of a certain performing troupe to the surface of Claudia’s mind – horrific mental stills to all but the impish creature who grinned silently.
However, what the man went on to reveal did p***k both the plague’s and the Grimm’s attention. He had lost his friend to the plague? A sick smile twisted across Claudia’s face – the usual reaction to hearing of the disease’s glorious work – and Felicity took yet another step backwards, her eyes now searching the other for signs of the disease. Despite knowing that she was rendered immune from the black death’s foul grasp so that she and Claudia could do her lord’s good work without fear of an untimely death Felicity was still wary of those who were ill... They were often at the lowest level of society and desperate. Tales had trickled into her ears of keepers who had been robbed of their excito by sufferers who falsely assumed the possession of a plague could undo the ravaging effects of the disease on their body... Yet what was truly interesting was the cocoa that he spoke of...
Forever hot and black? Now that they had stood in his company a little longer Claudia could indeed begin to smell the taint wafting off the drink. Curling through the air it was a rich chocolate scent but as per usual mixed heavily with the delicious odour of decay and death. It was undoubtedly a plagued item – a putesco – and the man... Looking for faith? It seemed almost too good to be true. Unwilling to let her human screw up the golden opportunity Claudia traced her fingers over the woman’s lips, signalling that she should keep them shut, whilst she spoke.
“Your friend... She must have loved you dearly to leave you such a precious gift.”
The flower was almost moving in a sultry manner as she delicately smoothed the creases out of her petals.
“That drink... It’s plagued. But don’t react harshly! No! It’s not a bad thing at all. I was once a tainted item like that – as precious as that drink is to you, the flower I was born from was worth more than a king’s ransom to my Grimm.” Sauntering over to Felicity’s face she placed a fake kiss upon her wretched human’s cheek – it was a foul thing for the caedos to do, but she had to appeal to this man... Win his trust. “It’ll grow like me; to be a lasting reminder of your maid’s love. A little ghost of her you could say. People would give their souls for a plague... Because, in her contraction of the plague and death she’s given you life: both through the plague which will be born into your care and in the immunity that comes alongside it.”
She hopped up onto the tapering beak protruding from Felicity’s mask and tiptoed along as far as she could, balancing on it as close to him as she could get without leaving Felicity. “There are people who can help you though... They can give you more answers that I ever could.. If you’re interested?”
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Posted: Thu Feb 24, 2011 12:30 pm
(( HI I'M TOO LAZY TO INDENT AND STUFF. ))
If luck was the word used to describe the conversation, Dorian was surely thinking it. The petal-creature's words spoke of opportunity and hope to his frail soul, every drop of her voice whispered of Nancy's love continuing to live on. He found that his stomach was no longer clenched in a sick sort of fear, but relaxed, a state of empathy and calmness. A smile ghosted upon his features, his eyes passing to Nancy's black beverage. Its macabre hue no longer emitted a threatening vibe, but an oddly intoxicating one. He dismissed its aroma altogether.
The creature said that it was a "precious gift", that much, was true. Its value had been emphasized by Nancy herself, and Dorian was only reassured by the Excito's statement. To Dorian, the hot cocoa smelled the sweetest of all dessert beverages, and the most meaningful.
He knew there was something special about it from the start.
Normally he would have denied the second half of her claim, that the item was "plagued". Now, it would be difficult to. The words came directly from a paranormal critter, what was there to deny? He certainly wasn't dreaming, for he could feel the snow under his feet, and the warmth of his own breath.
He wasn't one to react harshly, no, not in this instance. The thought that Nancy's plagued love could evolve into a being like the one tiptoed on the hooded figure's mask revived the emotion of joy that he long hid. Companionship, Nancy's love's incarnate, would be with him, and the very thought satisfied him. He would no longer be alone, and he'd be blessed with the gift of immunity.
"Because, in her contraction of the plague and death she’s given you life: both through the plague which will be born into your care and in the immunity that comes alongside it."
What was there for him to lose? He bought a finger to his chin, tapping before speaking. Well, Dorian, you've found a hint of gold in a mess of black again...
"I'll take your offer, as strange as you come, you speak the truth, I seek the truth that they too, may offer" Dorian replied firmly. He wanted to believe that the creature spoke the truth. Something to cling to, a quest for his urchin of a life to begin.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Feb 25, 2011 7:22 am
Far from reacting with aggression as Claudia had half feared, Dorian seemed to relax into the idea surprisingly easily. Evidently this Nancy girl had meant a lot to him and the spin she had cleverly put upon the plagued item being a gift worked wonders. Pleased at herself Claudia sat down upon the beak and swung her legs, drumming her fingers absentmindedly whilst he spoke with a definite air of determination. He was falling for them hook, line and sinker... Another soul ready to be converted to the flock – an Obscuvan might be born in this very street tonight! The imp’s dark soul smiled maliciously.
“Well... There are all manner of people who will tell you that they know the right thing about us plagues... The scientists – who fail miserably to try and create a cure by mixing their chemicals together but make nothing but pretty coloured potions to pour over the mounting number of cadavers. The mages – living in this town you must have heard of them... They operate under the guise of understanding the arcane and seem to believe that we plagues are a product of it. But we’re not. Some may be able to tap into magic, or help focus spells but we aren’t purely magical and cannot be treated as such! The mages were ousted by the Troupe de Panymium about their useless endeavours, did you hear of that!? There’s only one route that this world can take and that is by embracing the truth.”
Here she paused; her words had become venomous as twisted with bitter emotions towards The House’s foes... She couldn’t afford to scare him off. Taking a deep breath she continued...
“The House of Obscuvos understands what is running amok throughout Panymium. It is the work of a god... The glutton god Obscuvos. The only way that the world can be made pure is through him, but to achieve that it must first sink into chaos. The plague is a means of creating chaos and bringing about the day which Obscuvos will consume the world... After this those who have served him well will survive as truths and sinners and those unworthy will be digested as remnants and forver lost; unable to be reborn into the new perfect world.”
Felicity had been silent up until this point, but as her plague spoke a glimmer of tears congregated in her eyes. It was so inspirational... To hear her rose speak so truely and admirably... Yet she wanted to assure this man that his Nancy – the person who was dear to him and had given him this gift from above, a vessel of chaos – would want him to do this. It would be best for both his future and the plague that she had given him. “D-dorian-n... I w-was once lik-ke you. Lost-t and afraid. F-faith gave m-me hope but I-I.. foll-lowed the wrong f-faith at f-first-t. The House is m-more than a religion-n; it’s a fa-family. A family that will n-never let you d-down. It’ll n-never leave you. A-after you ha-have done good w-work within th-this world-d m-maybe you and N-nancy will m-meet through our L-lord?”
For once it seemed that the human’s words didn’t irk the flower, in fact, the human touch pleased Claudia and she patted the mask’s nose affectionately – like one would act towards a pet they were proud of. The word of Obscuvos was so wondrous... The truth could not even be soiled by the Grimm’s pathetic mouth.
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Posted: Fri Feb 25, 2011 11:04 am
An auspicious chord was echoing in the Arelgren heir's soul. The truth was more opportunely available then he'd thought it to be. He made no effort to challenge the words of the duo, he cared not if they were meretricious, for he grasped so strongly every word of truth that insincerity from the flower's seemingly cruel mouth seemed impossible. Its female companion only reassured him of its validity, and at the mention of family, he knew that his destiny lied with the Obscuvans. A place where he was relevant. Away from science, society, mages, all those who found him to be nothing but an adolescent on lampoons.
He never housed an interest for much science. Nor magic. He agreed how miserably the scientists failed, pretending to understand an array of information when they lacked so much that the magicians were needed to make an alliance with their pitiful lot. The plagues, the cause of all Panymium's despair!? A lie. The flower-creature needed not to convince him of its fallacy. He knew, already, how peasants corrupted community, and how plagues were irrelevant. The idea of using the plagues as catalyst to bring forth the Obscuvian goal excited him.
The glutton god Obscuvos. He would have the greatest truth of truths. He was a god. Nancy believed in the paranormal and supernatural. There was no reason for Dorian to believe the cult was untrue.
He was awed by such a deity, an almighty that knew more than he did himself. An almighty that was capable of ridding Panymium of the unnecessary. No longer would there be peasants but survivors, Obscuvians, family, left. He would gain new brothers and sisters, those he could be true to, call by title and be returned by name. No one would address him as "Duncan", he would be useful to them, and they, in return, would be kind to him.
He felt tears harvest at corners of his eyes when the woman spoke her last few words.
Yes. He and Nancy would meet. Perhaps then she would allow him to call her "mother"?
"Where would I be able to join the House of Obscuvos?" Dorian whispered, his voice lowered to almost-a-hush. His heart beat quickly, skipping into a prance, desperate for an answer.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 1:35 pm
Perfectly entranced by their confession of the cult’s nature Dorian’s question brought a smile to both female’s faces; though Claudia’s was much more vindictive like a smug little child who had just beaten a rival... Which.... in some ways was true? This Grimm was hers now. She had brought him to the doors of The House and away from the ridiculous mages and scientists. Felicity might had added that little touch onto the end but the reason he wanted to become like them – an Obscuvan – was down to her and she loved it... Such a thrill! However, before she could advise him further on how to join them she was very nearly knocked off her perch on Felicity’s mask’s nose. For some daft reason her Grimm had decided that the man need to be embraced... Pitiful human emotions of joy and companionship drove her no doubt. Needless to say Claudia was not impressed.
“What are you doing?!” She hissed as she scrambled back onto the woman’s head and hung, painfully, from Felicity’s hair around her ear.
“I’m j-just s-so glad you ha-have seen the w-way and w-will share in Obscuvos’ l-love!” She exclaimed, releasing Dorian from her feeble grip and adjusting her mask slightly after it had become wonky from all of Claudia’s clambering around. “D-do you have anyth-thing to write d-down an address o-nn?” She queried whilst clasping her hands together and rocking a little nervously on her heels. She didn’t want to lose him now... Now that he was so close to becoming an extension of her family, so she wanted to ensure that he would have a physical record of where he would have to go... If not, then she supposed trusting him to remember would have to do... Though in the mean time, now that she could trust him...
Felicity glanced around to make sure there were absolutely no onlookers. Finding none she fumbled with the ties of her mask, brushing Claudia accidentally as she did so, before slipping the porcelain beaked covering from her face and finally looking at Dorian eye to eye.
“I am F-Felicity Wick-kes..”
Claudia, not to be outdone by her Grimm, curtseyed low.
“And I am Claudia... I hope to one day be companions with your plague Dorian. Obscuvans together.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2011 1:49 pm
Dorian, shocked by the sudden contact the woman made with him, patted her awkwardly in her abrupt embrace. Obviously the emotional impact was so heavy that even the creature itself did not expect it. He was glad that she found his attraction towards the cult to be a mutual satisfaction, but now that he obliged, he was uncertain of what to speak of next. He didn't want to appear desperate, though his mien stated otherwise, nor did he want to come off rude (as he usually did).
When she freed her features of her mask, Dorian was startled at how fatigued the woman was, her eyes ringed and darkened. Her face reflected his own, for he knew from his reflection this morning how deprived of sleep and stamina he was himself. Her very choice of action calmed Dorian further, for it was an act of sincerity and trust. To show one's face under the cloak of midnight, to expose one's identity for the sake of a purpose.
The House of Obscuvos would gain a brother tonight, Dorian knew. His jade eyes were icy with a giddy pleasure, a warm smile breaking over his cold exterior.
"I have excellent memory," Dorian said quietly, "You may recite it now."
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon Feb 28, 2011 3:36 pm
Felicity spoke the location of the nearest church to the well spoken man that she could think of – it was not the one she was headed to tonight (tonight was less of a service and more of a meeting to discuss ‘developments’ and plan certain things) but it was certainly one of her favourite venues amongst the places The House used within the area... An abandoned church – marked on the door with the insignia of the plague and presumed by most to contain the festering and diseased bodies of the clergy and priests of the false religion that so many Sherygodians still practiced. Their god had not protected them and thus their icon’s house had become a nest for the one true god’s devout followers. Inside The House had morphed the place into a brilliant display of their belief in the glutton god... Murals were daubed onto the walls depicting holy scenes past, present and the future – when the raven headed deity would consume the world and rid it of all but truths – and the scent of heavy intoxicating sacred fumes hung within the air. Yes... It would be a good place for Dorian to go.
However, with the time passing by and her meeting with her brothers and sisters in faith not waiting for her to finish her act of religious conversion on Dorian she began to make her excuses to leave. “I’m s-sorry D-dorian-n... I have t-to go...” She gave him another brief embrace and Claudia rolled her eyes, if Felicity was not careful then she would scare the poor man off with her pathetic clingy nature. Putting her mask firmly back onto her face she murmured, “I h-hope to see you a-again,” before scurrying off, with renewed speed, into the night.
What an accomplishment! She would have much to tell her companions and be proud of tonight.
Claudia breathed in the last lingering scent of cocoa before the bracing night wind stirred by Felicity’s running snatched it away... It was an interesting scent... Exciting even. A plague brother or sister would be born to her soon...
How thrilling.
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Posted: Mon Feb 28, 2011 6:17 pm
The Arelgren heir listened attentively to the jittery woman’s address. His wonder was touched when she spoke of the church’s location, for he’d never quite noticed the edifice before until she mentioned it just now. Perhaps there were more Obscuvan venues where his attention was spared, and he wondered just how many of them were left to discover after his formal inauguration. He was hesitant to ask any further questions, and upon receiving the address of worship, became strangely paranoid of the events to come. When would he actually make journey for it? Would he wait? Would it be tomorrow? What would Nancy have done? Questions filled his head, though he nodded, a contradicting gesticulation, to every direction Felicity stated. He gave no sign of incoherence. Every passing thought was masked under stone features and smiling, blue lips.
His excited trembling was camouflaged by the effects of Shyregoed’s chill, and for once, he appreciated the land’s climate. If the petal-creature and her companion were to take notice of his dreading heart, they may have changed their minds altogether. Quite frankly, Dorian was excited on the brink of fear. He feared the Obscuvans would think little of him, despite his ownership of a Putesco (or whatever it was the creature dubbed Nancy’s cocoa).
When Felicity embraced him again, he returned the motion a little himself, never having actually hugging a woman other than Nancy, but the contact this time had no feeling of awkwardness. It was no different than hugging a sister.
“My thanks to you, Ms. Wickes,” Dorian whispered, though his words weren’t entirely meant for her alone. If the great god Obscuvos was guiding him all along, then Felicity’s coming was also of His doing, and it was to Obscuvos that Dorian was thankful for. He was in reverence of the god, but in a recoiling manner, for Nancy never spoke fondly of cults or get-togethers, and Dorian wondered why if they were nothing but as Claudia said: family.
He would find out soon enough.
When Felicity became an afterthought in the night, Dorian turned a heel and embarked through morning snow on his return to Arelgren House.
END
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knife effect Vice Captain
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