The Queen and the Knight

new

« Prev
1
Next »

qvq
Administrator

Posts: 77

The Queen and the Knight Nov 4, 2018 22:36:59 GMT -8

Quote

Post by qvq on Nov 4, 2018 22:36:59 GMT -8

The Queen and the Knight

Needing a break from th other clergy, Johnny sneaks off to a bar in town and runs into Eydis.

• Originally Posted: April 07, 2018

•Previous: Oil and Water		•Next: Catching Up

[HASH]EydisRp [HASH]JohnnyRP [HASH]WrittenRP

Last Edit: Nov 15, 2018 23:01:40 GMT -8 by qvq

Francis, Johnny, & Gand

thearchivist
God

Posts: 2,186

The Queen and the Knight Nov 4, 2018 23:07:40 GMT -8

Quote

Post by thearchivist on Nov 4, 2018 23:07:40 GMT -8

ACT 1

Johnny looks smug as he walks down the gloomy evening streets of Streitstadt. He'd left the walking stick and medicines and nagging behind. He'd been told to rest for another week! A week, really! When here he is, more than capable of making the long, long trek from church to town. It really ought not to be so far... not that he can't handle it! He's hardly even tired...
And the pub he's approaching looks like a good place to meet the townsfolk, which is nearly the entire reason he made this jaunt! He's not stopping at the first place he sees because he needs to! Hah!
He opens the doors to the usual sudden flurry of praying and holy symbols. His eyes glow a sympathetic gold as he smiles and waves to all the overreacting patron. As if they hadn't seen a man covered in shadow before!
”I am Father Johnny Doe, and I would like to buy a drink! Vodka if you- no? Fine. Tea-? No, beer, fine, beer.”
The silent room waits.
”I'm from the church- you can put those crosses away, I've got my own~“ he lifts the massive gold thing off his chest, and the room begins to murmur.
It's an uneasy sound that might relax, if he can manage his cards right.
He pulls out a coin, looks at the barman, who nods without losing his suspicious squint, and goes to sit, ignoring the free tables, stirring amid a swath of empty stools.
Hes not tired, but... it is good to sit.

What a magnificent performance! The crowd had reached peak fortissimo with the ring of the front bell. Then there was the unexpected decrescendo. The soft jingle of little trinkets followed. But, oh, that lovely tenor soloist. His voice hinted at a far greater range than was demonstrated. He ushered in a second, softer chorus that complimented his arioso. The tiny figure sitting not to far from the fire stood and gave ample applause. Oddly enough, the praise would go completely unnoticed by the large, judgmental crowd gathered in the pub this evening. It was almost as if they didnt know she was there. Like the ghost of a child, Eydiss tiny, pale form floated through the patrons effortlessly. The stool beside Johnny rattled as a flagon of beer knocked upon the top of the bar. Would you play another tune for me, bard, she said to the shadowy priest.
”Ill buy the next round?”
She offered with no hint of malice or trickery in her voice. Should Johnny look down, he would see the ancient vampire perched upon the stool swinging her legs in a childish fashion. She smiled upwards at him with traces of foam from her drink resting at the corners of her mouth.

The priest begins to wonder if perhaps he'd pulled something on the walk over. N-no... he was fine, just fine! A little drink- he reaches with some effort for the drink when something joins him.
His skin prickles, and around him there is a quiet flurry of whispers without apparent source.
He looks down.
He begins to quiver.
His gaze roams the room, over all his supposed flock.
Johnny smiles.
In one seamless movement and an audible strained whine, Johnny quaffs his mug and is up, off the stool, rushing for the door. He's outside before the bar patrons murmuring can catch up with the strange behavior.

There was something oddly familiar about this scenario. Had the skinny priest thing crawling with bees run from her before? Or were they going to run from her again? Either way, he was so thick with them he practically left a trail as he darted out of the pub. Well, Eydis was going to get her encore one way or another. A second empty flagon join the first as the tiny figure crossed the room in a blink of an eye. Despite her stature, the ancient vampires form filled the doorway. A tiny, messy hurdle for the priest to attempt to surpass. However, once again, she gave off little in the way of malice or raw energy. All of that was spread thin throughout the ages of her mind. It rarely coalesced into the display Johnny had witnessed at the Villa not to long ago (or displays she may have been known for once). Instead, he was greeted with a cherubic hiccup. A small hand clamped over her mouth and she giggled. Please, join us, she said after removing her hand to gesture back at the bar, for a peaceful parley. You and your bees.

Without hesitation, the priest turns the run into a seamless, practiced dive around the monster- he makes a strange, strangled noise as he hits the ground, and the momentum comes to a sudden halt, face touching strands of hair rather than freedom.
He looks up with watering, panic-stricken eyes. They gleam with something else for just a moment, before Father Doe lets out a wheeze that may have meant to have been a laugh.
P-peaceful parlay, y-you said? That... hhhh.... that sounds... peachy. “
“He struggles to his feet, and it truly is a struggle, taking multiple attempts as he only half-manages to bite down a sharp whine.
He glances down casually once he makes it to a swaying upright position- but this creature had handled raw angel blood. Even if his cross was ten times its size.... Was she even killable???
”S-so!” He coughs, winces. Tries again, quieter, slightly strained. ”So. Ale? Let's have some more ale, lovely, didn't really get a good taste of the first one, and- all this talk of drinking.” He stops. Smiles widely, and offers the tiny nightmare his arm like a proper gentleman. His attention is fully on her, without any to spare for the other pub patrons reactions.

In spite of Johnnys fears of the raw power the ancient vampire held, Eydis arm would wrap delicately around his once it was offered. Although, at their height different, it might look a tad comical- not that the patrons were paying much attention anymore. Instead, if he could sense it, the pressure of the glamor Eydis had placed upon the humans might be far more palpable to the quixotic priest. It wasn’t like she did it deliberately, it was more an effect of age, like a failsafe. It didn,t work on Johnny, and rightfully so. His alignment, along with a few other factors negated it entirely.
“Another ale would be lovely,” Eydis let out a small sigh, wishing the flighty bird beside her wouldnt fidget so. Her hand patted his arm supportively, as if to reassure him that her word was bond. However, through the humming of the bees, she could make out the tiniest of beans, shivering so. Maybe that was just his nature. “Very well. What brings you to my office on such a lovely night?”

If he could summon or even change, he might stand a chance- but she'd held angel blood! The best he can hope for is a fight against a creature of unknown strength, maybe if he could outnumber her, but there was no guarantee, that he could win, that the town would survive the ordeal, or that he wouldn't simply fail- shit, shit he should have not have left the parish only half-recovered, practically unarmed!!
What the Hell is this town-
Johnny looks up at a thud that nearly knocks him off his seat. The whispering in the pub stops suddenly as mugs land before the both of them. The bartender- still glowers at Johnny, barely glances at the pale girl. Johnny doesn't need to look around to know the others are doing the same.
“Mm? Oh, my most sincere apologies, madam, my head was far away. Did you - your office? I must apologize again, I didn't realize you had laid claim to this territory!” The priest laughs and doesn't shiver. His stillness is noticeable, after all the twitching.
”You come here often, then?”

Claim to this territory? She giggled as she picked up the glass. This region was never hers and yet it always was. That history was long forgotten though. This old thing, she snapped back to the present with a pat to the bar in front of them,
“Nah, they have a great live band every Thursday. The mug hit the bar with a resounding thud, already halfway empty.” Eydis wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and let out the most childish of burps. ”And what did your mother teacher you,” she said wagging her slightly dampened hand at him, ”never apologize fer nothin.”
She giggled again before taking a smaller sip of her drink. The bees buzzed loudly beside her, but for the sake of companionship she let of the small offense continue. ”I used to sit outside this place when it was only a one story establishment,” she didnt elaborate, but it might have been a time when she was playing a lowly beggar woman. The kind a young man would take completely for granted and overlook as he plotted to overthrow the lord of vampiric villa. But those were just old stories floating around in her head- nothing to trouble Johnny with.
”But you,” she sniffed at the thin priest, gesturing with her glass, ”you smell like a caravan. Where was your last stop?”

Perhaps she wasn't even a vampire? A fae, even a weak one, could survive direct contact with holy relics far easier than a vampire...
He watches her from the corner of his eye. Everything in him disagreed. Not a fairy glamour. Not a less-dangerous nature spirit. She is the real deal, whatever that meant.
What did it mean?
He's at her mercy.
But she's a dancer, twirling around his questions and her own meanings as if she was traversing a maze only she could see. Through the cloudy certainty of his own doom, he feels an unwanted, unwelcome pang of deep, deep fascination.
He keeps his eyes from hers. For all he knew, a glamor over the entire room might already affect him, but he could still hope to keep some of himself level headed....
He pretends to sip his drink.
“Sit outside? But you are so popular, I am surprised they did not welcome you in? Ah, but you are welcomed now, and a good thing too. It's cold, out there, and there are many dangers! “
Again, a grin, again, stillness.
”And unfortunately my mother did not get the opportunity, but thank you for your concern, Miss. I will keep your lesson, if that is permitted?”
He's getting flowery. Someone mocks him, cautions him, encourages him, scolds him. This was not the time to play...
He flinches at her sensory inspection. Perhaps he needed to acquire an animal spirit to deter their appetite... as if it wasn't too late.
“B-but I am quite afraid that my journeys have been rather... stagnated of late, for reasons of- well, you may be qui aware?.” An easy laugh. “But perhaps it's something else? A caravan? Do I smell like horses? Unwashed canvas? Trail dirt?”
Fine. If he was going to die or become a mindless, empty slave, at least he can go out dancing...

Buzz buzz buzz buzz buzz. It was starting to meld together into a gentle hum.
“I dont know how you can stand it,” she said waving her hand as if one of his thoughts might flitter over and sting her. Would he even get her meaning? She rarely cared if one did. But the blatant flattery was a little too sickly sweet for liking. Another swig of bitter ale would wash it down. Her lips smacked at the third sip.
”You smell of many things,” she said in a hushed voice, as if everyone was listening in. Her shoulder bumped against his side as she leaned over in her stool to whisper at him. “Some familiar scents from the East. Others are. harder to trace.” Johnny would receive a sly wink as she leaned back over and with a fourth, laborious gulp she finished her glass. It chimed against the counter once more. As quickly as it had been emptied, the vessel was once again filled. Meanwhile, a song floated through her head, some kind of melody that seemed far off yet familiar. Did he smell of that too? She began to hum as her fingers traced the cool beads of sweat beginning to form and trickle down the side of her mug. The tracing turned into fine letters in an alphabet hard to decipher. Rather quickly the script would be washed away by fresh crop of droplets.

Johnny doesn't flinch at the raised hand, but does watch it carefully enough to miss the words, but for the tingling the soft tone sends through his brain.They are relayed back in his mind as she continues. All this flirting would usually result in a marvelous hunt, but she had to go and spoil it by being an all powerful nightmare! Johnny does not let the sulkiness show outwardly, but God does he feel the urge to lay down and pout!
”You are astute, and to be quite honest, I wouldn't have suspected these aromas so obvious after so long! And I am, well, not apologetic, after all I am a diligent student, but perhaps... regretful? That I do not know what you are referring to? Bothered by what? Everyone seems quite content that your drink be peaceful.”
He looks away from her to the flock, an obvious mistake taking his attention from he threat, particularly when they are doing nothing more interesting than chatting and drinking and continuing to shoot Johnny dark looks. No, nothing special-
A melody-?
Johnny sputters into the ale he'd been pretending to drink, and looks back to stare the monster directly in the eyes for the first time all evening. His skin prickles tightly. Vampire magic? But...
“Where did you hear that? You couldn't- ” He looks down, but his smile is too slow to mask the fresh panicked confusion from the brief tune. Worse, the melting letters throw him off even further.
“H-have you been asking about me before tonight?” Father Doe asks faintly before he can remember himself in time.

The humming continued until the verse had drifted back into the dark waters of her mind. Where had she heard it? Diving down deep wasnt impossible, but it was certainly taxing. She prefered scooping up what memories bubbled to the top, like some ancient slumbering giant at the bottom of a loch. However, try as she might to swim to where the song resided she found that it eluded her grasp. How odd! A look of frustration crossed her tiny features. She bit down up on her lip, but not enough to cause any damage.
“I have danced with many a partner,” she seemed to struggle to say, ”Some performances are more memorable than others.” It was such a poor response. Eydis rested her head against the cool wood of the bar and she closed her eyes. The priest had intrigued her since she burned her hand on that hot oven of an arrow of his. Her fingers twitched at the more recent memory. It had taken forever to heal. In fact, she had fed for the first time in quite a while in order to properly recover. All in good fun though, right? But, oh, what a slippery fish he was. She started to hum the second verse to see if it would help her find the answers.

As the vampire continues to hum, light begins to radiate from Father Doe, who turns away quickly. He mumbles something, muffled and covered, but with the unmistakable hint of holiness. A prayer, then. When he quiets, the pink light vanishes.
“Y-you've forgotten then- ah, ah of course,” he tries to continue casually, but his voice hints at strain, as if his brief mumbling had been a shouted sermon.
He manages to uncurl at least, and looks again at the small creature. Everyone knew the old ones went mad. But...
The dark, human eyes that watch her are undeniably worried, and oddly soft.
“It’s not the worst thing, to forget. You may still have all of it, somewhere... just... locked up. “Father Doe looks at his untouched ale, then back to Eydis. He drinks.
“You are not Fae, or spirit. I will give you my name, as you need nothing so nice to do much harm,” he laughs like he's told a great joke.
“I am Father Johnny Doe. I must admit, I am quite an admirer of you after our last meeting, madam.”

The childlike figure beside him fell silent in order to listen carefully to what the priest had to say. Her silence lingered after he had finished. Shortly thereafter the bar fell into an eerie, sympathetic lull.
“Nononono, thats not right at all,” she finally bemoaned in a low voice. “My memory stands like the stones in that ancient plain,” the voice continued with a tinge of haughtiness. ”Whereas your stones have long since toppled and buried you beneath them.” A warm, familiar wave crashed down upon Eydiss form and she allowed to it do so. Should Johnny look before the memory wrapped them both up, he would see a bright, golden hue flickering in her eyes like a hungry flame. With a final gold flare, the ancient vampire sank deep into her memories, into the darkness of her past. The farther down she slipped the louder the song she had been humming became. It was thunderous like the call of a massive sea creature. She listened carefully as the song enveloped her in the inky blackness, curling its way inside her. Until. Until it was no longer around her, but it was coming from her.

thearchivist
God

Posts: 2,186

The Queen and the Knight Nov 5, 2018 0:00:52 GMT -8

Quote

Post by thearchivist on Nov 5, 2018 0:00:52 GMT -8

ACT 2

The soft, sweet song echoed faintly off the walls of the resplendent chamber. Patterns in brightly-colored, geometric tiles danced in the light of torches lining the walls. The space grew darker towards the back of the room, as only a few candles decorated a large seating area. Among an array of lush pillows and draped silk lounged two figures. The smaller of the two sat upright with their legs to one side to accommodate the other, larger figures head. It was, in fact, the smaller figure that was humming. Her fingers swam through the hair of the man laying upon her lap. They both seemed so carefree, ignoring the wars ravaging outside and the arrival of their guests. As the lilting song came to an end, the young woman leaned over and brushed the hair out of the mans face before kissing his forehead.
”We have company,” she whispered to him.

He jerks his head at the sudden bright light, but is surprised when he can't move? Where was the bar? The patrons, what had she done, the vampire-
The vampires...
The priest shifts. Armor clanks uncomfortably. It was made for him, of course, but he hadn't had time to rest after the last battle. He ached. Worse, he stank. He hated stinking, of old sweat, stale fear and blood, and whatever that unholy, stinking black stuff was that flowed out of vampires when you cut them...
And it's hot out. The sun beats down on his head, the helmet terribly warm... He hated heat, and Heaven, he must stop himself from imagining the long, cool bath he will take when he is done with this hideous business. He straightens, and the armor gleams, despite the wear. The cross on his heavy breastplate shines with an unnatural gold light, matching the aura from many pairs of wings at his back.
He had a job to do, and could not be distracted by mundane needs. Without an outward sign of fear, the massive knight enters the dark hall, alone. He doesn't look back at his company as he enters the lair. They could not be allowed to see him hesitate. Later, he'd promised, a round of drinks, together in the bar- a tavern? A.. they would... a bar... mm.. together...
He's alone now, though.
Alone, but for God.
He mutters a prayer as large wings flutter and twitch with his otherwise hidden nerves, casting strange light into the gloom.
The hall echoes as he makes his way in. He does not try to be quiet. He is expected, and he will not cower.

The torchlight of the lounge is overtaken by a soft golden aura. The gloom fades as if to dawn as an armored knight stands before the silken pillows.
“I am here as agreed upon,” calls a deep voice in coarsely accented Russian. “Will you honor our our parlay, or must I smite you like the hellspawn you are? “

Childlike peals of laughter bounced off the hall, consuming the previous echo of the soft song. While the source had since come to a halt, faint reverberations allowed the mirth to linger in the now gently lit room. Satin strained as the young woman seated before the knight adjusted her posture. No need to slouch in the presence of company. In response, the ragged figure beside her shifted up and over into a subservient kneeling position, with their head bowed low.
“Well met,” the ancient vampire greeted her guest from her pillowy throne. Surrounded by color, light, and life, the vampire was bedecked like an ominous black hole. Her light hair was tucked beneath the darkest of silks and her robes were blacker still, but glistened with trapped light from gold and silver threads. Jewelry and beads chimed along as she shifted into a more formal position. Golden eyes wreathed in koal liner shone from beneath her coverings. “Or rather, it is good to see you again.” There was a slight hint of sorrow in her eyes as they drifted over to the priests winged display. It reminded her of another time, although now was not the best for reminiscing.
“Would you care for anything,” she offered graciously, ”Wine, food, robes, a bath, women,” she paused and raised an eyebrow, ”men?” Her hand waved the offer away as she laughed. Of course the priest wouldnt be tempted by such things by one of her kind, especially after referring to her as ’hellspawn’.

Hellspawn! Hardly. She had met a few in her time and they were most certainly nothing like her. However, shed bite her tongue before she quipped to her company that they reminded her more of his heavenly hosts. That would just enrage the knight. These days everyone was on edge. War did that to creatures of all kinds, even her own- which was why, in part they were both here. Her annoyance at the whole affair was buried deep. This was Khorshids fault. And if her child had survived, there would certainly be hell to pay.

”This is a place of peace,” she gestured around the hall. The heavenly light now illuminated a ceiling bedecked in a celestial scene. Stars and constellations sparkled in the ceramic night sky. Meanwhile, back toward earth, her thumb grazed her palm and a thick, sluggish drop formed upon it. This was an ancient symbol of a pact. In fact, it was one her people once used when she was human and one that she had introduce to her undead family. There were many customs originating from her, not that she felt the need to brag about them. She was queen to those who mattered. “And if memory serves, we requested this meeting. No need for hyperbole. Would you care for a seat?”

Bar, bar... something about a bar.. why is he distracted?? This was desperately important, and he didn't even like drinking, hated giving up control like some of his... less gifted men. Something about a bar...
She's laughing- why did a bar matter? What bar??
The armor pulses with light as someone deep inside quiets his thoughts. Helps him focus, on the situation, and the monstrously beautiful little night creature before him. Praise the Lord.
The evil thing mentions seeing him again? It would flaunt its participation in the recent battles? He shouldn't be disgusted by any monsters audacity, but he is.
And then it makes its offers. Fortunately the helmet keeps the automatic expression of reviled disgust from the other party. Calm, calm, what is wrong? Why is he not calm?
He is the only one who can do this. Even if they kill him, it will be at the hastening of their own destruction. It must be him, so he must
Focus.
Ignoring the ’generosity’, the knight at last removes his helmet. Even in the gloom, his stoic face looks as if a warm late-afternoon light illuminates his rich skin and fairy-fine features. Old scars mix with new wounds- a blue-purple bruise from the last battle remains fresh over one gold-gleaming eye. The other lantern-orb is unmarred. It's difficult to read the expression in the inhuman things as they flick about the room, taking in details, staring long into areas that seem empty.
Finally they return to the enemy.
“Peace then. Yes.” He looks into her face. Murderer. The knight smiles coldly, then bows.
”You must excuse me, Madam. I am...” no apologies - ”-unused to going without a squire. I am Commander Ivan Ivanovich. We have what is yours. You rage war-” slaughter- ”-against us. As your memory is accurate, perhaps we can come to an accord.” The smile drops in temperature.
“And thank you, but I prefer to stand.”
Still, he was not here to make this worse, and he'd already snubbed the hospitality twice, a voice scolds.
With slow care, he removes a heavy gauntlet, then a long glove. Finally, he sticks a bare finger in his mouth, running it along one of the many strangely sharp teeth. When he withdraws, a bead of blood glimmers gold on the fingertip to match the girl’s. He holds it out, but makes no move to close the distance between them.

In a blink, the woman stood before the glowing man, a dark spot beside a radiant star. Her eyes sparkled as they reflected the light he gave off. She was looking past him or possibly into him, as if looking for something. Or maybe someone. A soft whisper in an ancient language fell from her lips, and she waited in silence as no response came. The light in her eyes seemed to fall flat. She held out her hand and allowed her dark blood to fall to the earth below in time with his. Her wound closed up almost immediately, and she assumed the priest would have heavenly assistance with his own cut.
“May we take your helmet, soldier,” she said holding out her hands to receive his gear, all the while anticipating her guest to decline her offer. ”Its beautiful,” she said, ambiguously referring to his countenance- wings and armor alike. It reminded her all the more of a time well before the arrival of his lord.

”Commander ...Ivanovich,” she said the words as if they were completely unfamiliar to her. ”Congratulations on your promotion.”
The church had done their job, and a part of her wanted to undo it, but not if it would jeopardize the exchange. “We have something of yours as well,” she said without waiting for the response of her previous inquiry. ”War is waged between two parties,” she corrected him, ”You rage war against us as well. But this is nothing new.” This line of discussion had to end, as it would sour chances of making this a quick interaction. Her mind had already calculated all the possible outcomes, responses, and her strategies. For now, she was playing her hand close to her chest, but not without having a bit of fun at the priests expense.
”How would you like to proceed?”

No flinching. No fear. He is not afraid. The Lord would see this through, even if he could not. But she is suddenly so close, and he can feel himself twitch, the feathers ruffling like a startled songbird.
No, he is a warrior. He would not run, why are his thoughts suddenly turning to cowardice??
The knight stills, steadies. But she says something. What had she said, exactly? It stirs his host, and he must hold them back, one, two, three, four, it was not for them to speak without his permission...
He finds himself handing over the pieces of his armor thoughtlessly, distracted-
He almost takes them back. Distracted??
He was a pillar of Gods army!! He cannot be distracted by bars and disobedience!!
Beautiful.
Completely off guard, the knight flushes brilliantly, made worse for his illumination. He maintains a stiff, haughty expression, like a cat whod missed a jump, and looks at her accusingly, but the devil maintains that false innocent look.
She speaks his name, and it feels completely unfamiliar to him as well. He reels with disorientation as the room shifts- were the town’s patrons alright-?
Focus.
A light appears in the knights forehead.
“Commander Ivanovich. Yes.” His name, and not the name of one who had forgotten, obviously... but Ivans were those who had forgotten... been made to forget... had he forgotten something.... the bar-?
One of his strongest spirits prays for him. The soldier flares, and seems to become more solid, more confident, as if the previous confusion hadn't even occurred.
Manners. Why on Earth had he snubbed her? This was already a nightmare, why worsen it with useless pride?? The priest smiles prettily for the child.
”Well, we ought to do this correctly. I must admit, after the hard road, I would quite appreciate a drink. And a seat? Yes, this would also be a good way to begin negotiations.”
The reason he is here. Not a subtle transition, but it will do. He looks at the pile of pillows without changing his expression. The other creature hadn't escaped his notice, but he is not going to draw attention to it if he doesn't have to.
“Is that acceptable, Madam?”

Without another word, the figure still kneeling among the pillows stood and moved out of the light into one of the darkened hallways to fetch a drink for their guest. Meanwhile, the helmet sat heavy in the ancient vampires hands. Her fingers began to discolor but only ever so slightly. She was at the height of her power. Her children were fruitful, her hunger satiated, her pacts with others stood strong. The heavenly light of her guest was no more than a nuisance. In fact, the singe of power was nostalgic and distracting all at the same time. Rather than travel forwards in time, she travelled back to another period of man, war, and heavenly hosts.
“Absolutely,” she responded to his suggestion of tea. “We have the finest milk and honey, if you are so inclined,” she continued as she walked beside him over to her fine nest of pillows, cushions, fine silks, and candles. There seemed to be a spot built up just for the knight. Should he take up the spot, he would find the helmet placed dutifully next to him within reach. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel unsafe. Armed men swing wildly at the slightest hint of danger.

”We feel,” she said moving a tray between them to receive a tea service, ”slightly outnumbered.” There was a sly grin about her as she stared at him out of the corner of her eyes. She could only surmise how many heavenly creatures it took to create the display the commander was putting on for her. Silently, her attendant reappeared, head bowed low as he handed her a tray. She nodded slightly as the figure took to up a standing position at the edge of her lounging area. An elaborate silver kettle producing the most aromatic of steam was pushed onto the standing tray between them. The kettle was accompanied by the finest of tea sets, a plate overflowing with fresh fruits and a simple bowl containing a towel producing steam of its own. The vampires hand danced from the edge of the tray to the bowl, plucking up the hand towel. She held it aloft as a sign of respect to her guest, intended to wash whatever he would have have her. We greatly appreciate your willingness to entertain this parlay.

As he and his heavy armor sinks into the soft mass with care, he can feel aches that had been with him for days of heavy riding and lasting injury ease up. It's almost enough to offset the discomfort of being less defensible, and the shameful desire to run, the bar...
What bar???
Although the knight maintains his calm demeanor immaculately, the wings at his back twitch with growing regularity. With so many, it's hard not to notice the stirring of air. A bright down feather even floats embarassingly over to the tea tray. Ivans face grows more haughty and prideful.
He stares at the tea as it's offered. There is the barest hint of disapproval as he takes the cup, but nothing more.
Outnumbered.
The disapproving glare shifts into a smile. Of course they were outnumbered.
“Having trouble turning my brethren? I must admit to a bit of responsibility for that. Sorry.”
He can't help but gloat, just a bit. It was probably unwise, obviously unwise, but his role in the plan, the success of the plan, with the freshly turned priests’ safeguards thwarting even the strongest of ancient vampire sires attempts, was too delightful to keep contained.
The knight glitters and gives the vampire an eager, boyish grin that undermines the aloofness he'd carried into this meeting.
“Yes, yes, and we want our enslaved back from you. We are grateful as well, of course, but at the end of the day- or I suppose... night? This is simply about taking back what is ours. Isn't that right?”
He sips his tea.

The ancient queen waited for her guest to sample the tea before she brought a cup to her own lips. It settled back into its matching saucer with a melodic clink once she had done the same.
“Quality, not quantity, my dear knight,” she purred as her finger toyed with the glowing feather upon the tray. She was like a moth drawn to a flame. ”We only meant that you have company at this time, while we have respected the terms of the agreement.” Once again her eyes seemed to see through him rather than staring at him directly. Jewelry decorating her adornments chimed together as she shifted a little bit closer to him. ”Of course, your god willing, we will both have what we desire,” she said in a low voice. She very much wanted her child returned to her. The thread that bound them had grown weak- a clear sign that the church had meddle with her much in the same way she had meddled with one of their own. There was more that she wanted, but it all depended on her guest.

Her hand nudged the feather back towards him, using air rather than the weight of her hand. It drifted slowly over and fell upon his knee with very little effort. Following a sly grin, she put her lips together and encouraged the feather to travel deeper into the knights lap.
“What,” her eyes snapped back to his, ”was their name again?”” As if they didnt already know that. Identity was essential to breaking the spirit along with the flesh of any human. To mold them into a shadow of their former selves, vampires needed to know what cast that shadow. Her eyes no longer seemed to pierce the knight. Instead they softened and reflected something close to pity. What of their thralls was different from the man before her? “Can you recall,” she asked rather innocently, ”when they first entered the house of their lord, full of promise?” Could he recall that time too? The old, humble church. The scent of incense. The touch of soft linen. ”Before the righteous light and angelic voices? Before the war?” What was the goal of her attempt to conflate the knight with the captive? Altruism? Kindness went against her vampiric nature, which was already scheming as to how an ensnared knight would secure her supremacy. But was it worth the life of her child?

”Company? I am alone-” The knights eyes glint, then go wide. The undulating wings stop, as does a strange, imperceptible low ring of a bell, only noticeable now for its absence.
He closes his eyes, closing the window she seemed to be capable of peering through.. He needs her to stop looking, and.... He can smell something, sour, old beer-?
FOCUS.
The dim light around him swells when the feather touches down against him.
Someone is saying something, he’d broken his ribs and he shouldn't be out of bed yet, but he has a goddamned job to do!!
What was the question???
What was their name...?
What is his name?
His name.
Ivan was the name for those who had forgotten...
He hadn't forgotten...
Before the angelic voices...?
Two sharply evil, viciously pink eyes look at the vampire when she speaks again. The knight looks angry, but not with her, perhaps. Frustrated, that was it, as if hearing he'd made a stupid error.
About to speak, the man bursts with light as soon as opens his mouth. The room becomes bright as the morning, the knight a torch to the dark.
The voice that follows is neither confused nor human.
”DO NOT TEST OUR PATIENCE, MONSTER. THIS ONE IS HERE TO STOP YOU HERE. NOW. YOU WILL NOT SWAY HIM WITH PAST TRIVIALITIES OR FUTURE WITCHERY. WE ARE HERE TO BARGAIN. HE IS NOT PART OF THE DEAL.”
The light dies abruptly. The knight drops his teacup.

This had not been the queen’s first dance with heavenly hosts, although it had been at least a few hundred years. Her eyes shut immediately, but still burned from the flash of light. She could hear her skin crackle with energy. It felt uncomfortable, like a prolonged static shock. Such displays of power! Rather than being frightened or angered by the interjection, her eyes snapped open and collected the teacup before it had the chance to fall into the knights lap.
“Such displeasure, you must be a lesser host,” she leaned in close, chasing the fading light, ”For the strongest dont waste time on threats. We would know.” Her laughter was sharp at first but faded quickly, as if she had somehow lost interest in the angelic power. It was a shame. She had hoped the church wouldve sent in an archangel or two. What a fight that wouldve been! But then, there wouldve been no parlay. She wouldve lost her precious Khorshid. The sound of her tongue clicking against her teeth echoed through the now darkened chamber. The church had played the game well.

“Ivan, was it,” the queen leaned back and placed his cup upon the saucer. “What was the name of your compatriot, again?” Like a well-choreographed dancer, her hands caressed the silver teapot and poured out another cup from a foot away. The tea shot out of the spout with determination and reached the cup below. Not a drop was spilled, nor a sound was made as she settled the teapot back onto the tray. “For we will fetch them, once we have confirmation that our own is safe within these walls.” Satin pillows strained as she rested her weight backwards and kicked one leg up into a lounging position. Her arm rested upon her knee as she took a casual sip from her own drink. Maybe once this transaction was complete, she would find the knight again. They could dance, whether it was it was as partners in battle or by another other meaning. Either way, the vampire queen enjoyed a good challenge. Based on their conversation thus far, stripping the angels from the knight one by one sounded exciting.

“Nhod...? We... we don't threaten, we're just... just... “
The knight looks around the chamber, as lost as the most broken of thralls. The things she said, senseless, sensible...
Ivan, was it...
Yes!
He sits up from his cushion as his many wings extend to their full length, until the massive chamber feels small.
A soft glow persists from him, not the painful light, but noticeable.
”We are here for the GOOD of the Lords flock. We do not threaten you, because the threat is already known. You would like your child back. Why test us? Do you want us to bring our full host to you?”
His voice carries an echo, although the timing is unreliable, inconsistent. Out of sync.
“To unleash our hordes, within your home?? We do not want this- NO, WE SHOULD, SCOUR THESE CREATURES FROM OUR LORDS SIGHT- HUSH.”
Ivan goes silent, but his shifting, rocking movement clearly manages to express his continued discomfort.
His soft, lone voice begins to count. As the numbers go higher, his movement slows, and he grows quieter.
Finally, he stops.
Stands to attention.
Ready.

Last Edit: Nov 5, 2018 1:57:41 GMT -8 by Admin

thearchivist
God

Posts: 2,186

The Queen and the Knight Nov 5, 2018 0:22:53 GMT -8

Quote

Post by thearchivist on Nov 5, 2018 0:22:53 GMT -8

The queen stood gracefully, without any sign of effort or strain. Trinkets twinkled around her as she moved besides the confused knight. "Please, forgive our previous transgressions," she replied without a hint of remorse. "We were merely curious as to the nature of your. Unnatural state." How fun! They were shoved into a tiny, human form. And there were signs of disagreement among the lot. This would likely come in handy later. But to the matter at hand. "Such wisdom," she nodded along, "Your sheep for our little lost lamb." Slowly, she began to pace around the knight, continuing to stare at him and through him. " We can save this wrath...for another evening, yes?" Her hand drifted over and fell upon the knight's armor, as if she were a maiden greeting her beloved.

"Now then, our child," she asked softly, with almost a slight hint of impatience. The game had lost its edge to her. Bureaucracy bored her terribly. She made no attempt to hide a soft yawn pulling at the side of her cheeks as she kept her mouth closed. "Provided what we have is indeed what you want, knight." Focus. Think of something more enjoyable. Wings fluttered close to her face. Ah, yes! She could tear those wings off one by one, feather by glowing feather. Maybe she'd even make herself a pair of her own from them. There were rumors of humans wearing crafted wings farther north. Seems like wings were cheap these days.

What transgression.
Focus.
She had goaded him. He had lost focus. He was back in control.
"My unnatural' state is a blessing from my Lord. It is however, irrelevant to this negotiation."
Focus.
He was not in heaven, or hell, or a bar. He is here. Reality. Good.
The hand touches him lightly. The knight's stoic face remains as stone, but a high flush returns. His determined eyes remain locked forward, intense.
"There will be wrath later only if you insist on continuing to feed on our people. As for your lamb', your captives are not enough." The gold flickers, but it appears the knight has now tightly gripped his emotions. Even the wings slowly fold up on his back, graceful and poised. No more twitching fear.
He peers down at the tiny queen.
Focus.
Good.
"We are looking to end the fighting. We are not the only humans on the Lord's earth. In return for your child, you will go somewhere else. I have been given a list of far off kingdoms that have rejected the one true God, and you may choose from it where to take your... family."
He keeps the scowl from his voice and face, but an errant wing shudders. But they could not defeat the evil. This was the only solution left... but for one single monster as bait, he could hardly expect the small woman to bite.
"We also want our enslaved back, of course. In return, we will not pursue you. You can leave my country freely."

The knight would see all mirth drain from the ancient queens face. Her irises snapped into tiny slits and her eyes began to hum with a red, radiant energy. Her hand gripped tightly to his arm. There was quiet, intensity about her form, as if she truly become a black hole- a giant miasma, an incomprehensible dark and heavy shape set on consuming anything that was unfortunate enough to move to close. And oh how close was this priest! "You speak as if you understand the balance of power at present," she uttered through clenched teeth. "As if you are in the position to tell me what to do." The knight would feel a hand upon her wrist and then the distinct and wonderful feeling of flight as she took him by the arm and threw him across the room. "As if you have any concept of fairness," she screamed after him. She caught herself, taking in a slow deliberate breath. The sudden heaviness dissipated from her form as quickly as it had appeared. The vampire paced methodically across the room after the priest, selecting her words carefully. "I want my child. In return, I will not rip every wing and every being within you, burn your houses of worship, and slaughter your followers. You can leave my house freely."

He is focused. He can feel the threat, calculate, focus, there is no bar- can't react fast enough to the queen-!
She is going to consume him- NO-!
A light bursts as the armor-clad knight is thrown like a toy, wings opening like rays of the sun, so that there is no clash of metal against the opposite wall, just a mild clang.
The knight rises, not to his feet, but into the air, a small sun in this darkness.
Focus. Yes!
"We have a concept of fairness, dark one." There is an echo to his voice, but it is quite certainly the knight in command. "If this is a negotiation? We must know each other's terms, yes?" There's amusement in the inhuman tone as the knight peers down.
"You can destroy my vessel, if that is your wish. Threaten us. Our leader has taught us to turn the other cheek. Kill us!" There is a definite amused laugh at the prospect of his own death.
"You will merely have our untamed host to contend with... and no child. No gain."
The knight descends back within her easy reach.
"You want to kill us. Enjoy."
The knight reaches back behind him, as if to grab a weapon-
Instead, gripping one of the wings, he rips it off with an agonized scream, spraying golden blood across the floor.
"Go to ahead!! RETURN US ALL TO WAR!! SO WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THIS?!"
The agonized echoe booms through the hall as the still-twitching appendage is thrown at the vampire's feet.

The queen's steps slowed and halted altogether as the knight put on quite a show that ended before her. Without bothering to hide it, one eyebrow slowly raised upon her forehead. A look caught somewhere between amusement, respect, and confusion hovered on her brow. The echoes of the angels wrath were soon replaced by a delighted laughter. The queen brought her hands together with a resounding clap. "We said nothing about killing you," she jabbed at the knight while her toe kicked at fallen wing. No doubt these creatures were working off a rather primal directive. They had no inkling of the ego of the archangels. The thought was both calming as well as unnerving. There was a ticking time bomb in her court. Why in all the heavens did the church send such a loose cannon to negotiate? "But we are less inclined to torture, if you prefer it to be self-inflicted." The queen kneeled down and took up wing in her hand. The flesh immediately began to burn. One good turn deserves another. Arm outstretched with the heavenly wing, she offered it back to her guest. "We have no more need for this than we do a petal plucked from a flower." Her face was unwavering as hand started to blacken. "Madness aside, you're terms are unagreeable. And your understanding of this conflict is surprisingly uniformed." Her hand wiggled the wing like bait before knight. "And we'll never understand why humans are so above the animal kingdom that they cannot be prey. They are terrible predators."

An end to the threats. Finally, they could begin discussing terms truthfully, without this foolish posturing.
Ivan smiles, and the light around him dims enough to reveal the pained expression.
"Mm, kill us, raze our people, tear us apart," he waves a hand dismissively, "however you phrase it."
He watches her take the feathered limb up, standing steadily, though sweat pours down his face, and a pool of shining blood begins to form at his feet. He takes the offered thing back, glancing at it, then at the vampire. Moving gingerly, he sets the thing down again, as much need for it as her.
"Obviously, we must negotiate. That is why we are here," he murmurs agreeably. "We will listen to your side, rather than fight. If your side wants to ’rip every wing', we will trust you to be truthful." The puddle at his feet is becoming significant.
"Now, perhaps the offer to sit and discuss still stands? We are afraid we will not for much longer." The knight laughs at their own joke, but only weakly.

The queen stares behind the knight and sighs. With a snap of her fingers, the human servant appears, their head bowed low. She whispered something into his ear before he disappeared under a nearby archway. "We will tend to your wounds," she offered as she turned around and made her way back to the sitting area. With a a sweep of her arms, she gestured for her guest to have a seat. "Not unlike yourself, we find humans quite useful." For the time being, the queen would remain standing to oversee her guest's aid. The human servant returned with a tray full of rather exotic looking instruments, poultices, and colored vials. "And while your hearing may be select, we would like to assure you there is little interest in ripping off wings," she said, her arms crossed across her chest, "We want our child. You want your men. What more is there to negotiate other than the exchange?"

He follows her slowly, steps deliberate as they leave a golden trail that faintly illuminates the room. Even at the gestures permission to sit, the knight remains where he is. Perhaps it imanners, but there is a trace of mulishness in the knight's pallid face as he barely glances at the human.
"There is no need to tend to us. We do not need to press your goodwill- HUSH. ENOUGH- nnn..."
He sinks into a cushion, though it looks less graceful than earlier, more like a barely controlled fall. He continues on as if nothing has happened.
"Of course, that is all true, what we want, what you want. But what we are here to ensure is that you don't simply murder us all the next day, or week, or month." He smiles up at her, and the light pulses.
"A simple hostage trade does not require a Commander like us. You want more. You indicate you are more than a wanton killer. That there is more to this war."
He folds his trembling hands in his lap like an eager pupil waiting for an anticipated lecture.
"We are here to learn."

Shortly after the knight fell to the cushions, the human servant took up a seat behind him. They held up their hands in a peaceful gesture before continuing with their task. The ancient queen sighed at the knight's monologue. Had she not been gracious from the beginning? Had she not expressed her design to negotiate. Masking her frustrations with a sip of lukewarm tea, the vampire considers the knight's words. "A simple hostage trade would not involve our child, or us," she says slowly, " but that does not mean the terms must be complex. Your desire to address other matter is what complicates the one at hand." She rests the cup back down upon the tray and leans back upon the hand had not held the wing. The other lay across her knee, slowly healing. "We have nothing to prove to you or any human. Killer is a name you assigned to us. War is different than survival. We kill to eat. No more or less than humankind," she said, "would you fault us that?" It was the same conversation over and over again, millenia after millenia. It would fall on deaf ears and grown into a conversation neither side could maintain. It was the nature of things. "War," she said switching topics, " is never about survival. It's about ideology. It's about power. It's about desire." Her blackened finger began to trace the rim of the silver cup. "We know you cannot give us what we desire. Our alignment with the other races is merely a convenience to try and take it. If it even exists." Her eyes fell away from the knight and her gaze grew distant.

There is a hiss of pain as the queen speaks, but Ivan tries to listen as the wound is addressed. It is hard to focus, but he remembers this moment clearly, even now, centuries gone... sometimes when he manifested wings, one was missing-
He looks around the grimey German bar as pain washes through him. He floats on it, staring dumbfounded into a mug of ale he holds so tight it hurts, a hurt that is nothing compared to the agony at his back as the thrall staunches the seeping of his blood-
The knight's eyes return to empty gold as the noise stops.
War??
"The leviathan can't be s-stopped by anyone else, Sir, it's killed too many-!!"
Ivan stands. Looks around, absolutely bewildered.
"Are- are you-" no, do not accuse of magical manipulation. He is.. a negotiator, isn't he?? But the Central armies were not meeting with him-?!
What?
Focus!
On what?!
Pain.
He lets it engulf him, and each spirit is exposed to it. It doubles, triples, until the terrible divergent memories scatter, leaving him in peace and darkness and pain of being here in this moment
The knight's body falls back, unconscious
"EXCUSE US. THERE IS SOMETHING IN THE AIR, BUT WE ARE PREPARED NOW. WHY SHOULD WE GIVE YOU BACK A CREATURE THAT WILL CONSUME MANY MORE LIVES THAN YOU WILL RETURN TO US? THERE IS NO GUARANTEE FROM YOU THAT WE WILL NOT SIMPLY LOSE AS MANY OR MORE SOLDIERS AFTER THIS TRADE. PERHAPS IT IS NOT A WAR TO YOU. ACCEPTABLE. BUT THESE CREATURES WILL NOT GIVE YOU THEIR LIVES AND MORTAL SOULS SO EASILY, REGARDLESS OF YOUR FEELINGS OF ENTITLEMENT TOWARDS SUCH THINGS.
THIS IS A NEGOTIATION. WHAT CAN YOU OFFER US, BESIDES YOUR THREATS AND THE FEW FLEETING LIVES IN YOUR POSSESSION?"

The queen's eyes stayed focus on the ground as the figure beside her made a scene. How remarkable uncouth. And they dare to call her monster. Eventually her gaze breaks away from the tile. "We are terribly sorry," she says softly, "We were lost in thought. In the past. What did you say?" She gave little hint as to whether or not she had actually missed the angelic outburst or if she was merely playing deaf. Meanwhile, the human servant behind the knight had jumped at the sudden display and shoved his hands into his lap. His head sunk lower and lower with each declaration, as if he was trying to curl into himself. As his mistress finally responded, he collected himself and took to slowly stitching up the wound. Should Johnny find himself back in the present, Eydis was still sitting there, head against the bar, singing a languishing tune.

The angel blinks with uncertainty. There is a flurry of worried whispering, urgent singing, none meant for the queen. Frantic points are made, argued, dismissed, argued, until the knight finally lapses into silence.
The wound begins to sizzle like cooking meat. A bright flash, and the injury is scarred over.
"No one else can do this. Complete the mission, child."
The Commander's eyes become a dark brown, humanity peering out through them. His empty eyes slowly clear.
"I c-can... I... our terms... ... we? .... we cannot have your family continue to prey... prey on ours, madam!" His watery voice grows more confident with every word as he shakes the momentary delirium.
"What bargain can we strike, that won't end up with scores more death by the years end than had we not bargained with you? You do not want peace, for you will starve! We cannot go on like this, for we will die!"
The room spins, but he can do this! He is the only one, the perfect tool for this problem! The knight radiates faith!

thearchivist
God

Posts: 2,186

The Queen and the Knight Nov 5, 2018 0:54:06 GMT -8

Quote

Post by thearchivist on Nov 5, 2018 0:54:06 GMT -8

The queens eyes soften as the humanity blossoms within the knight and the light fades.
”What terms,” she questions as she bites down upon her lip. There were so many different ways to play this game. If Mahan was here, hed warn her to be straight forward and diplomatic. He was always far too level-headed for his own good. But the mother of so many of the damned knew exactly what Khorshid would’ve done. The hall would be glowing with angel blood and the church would be in search of another tamer. No. The queen was ancient, quixotic, and, most importantly, bored. That made her far more dangerous than the angels had anticipated. How many of these negotiations and war talks had she managed. How many angels had she encountered? Only one really mattered to her, and it was a shame she would never find them again.
“When a farmer sows a field, he leaves another barren. He does this to allow the soil to replenish its nutrients in order for strong crops to grow. A foolish farmer overworks his land,” she finally responded. ”There is one condition under which we will leave for other lands, once we have made an exchange,” she paused, mostly for dramatic effect. “Your angels leave their host, and you serve me for ten years.”

What terms? Hah! Rhetorical. She knows what they want, had thrown him across the room for stating it. He has this. He is a Commander of a holy army, doing a job none other but him can. He is focused, perfectly in place to serve the Lord and his people.
He nods at the metaphor, whatever this creature is knows the land has turned against her-!
Ivan gapes.
”You- exorcism-?” The small gasped word comes out before he can stop himself- No, unimportant! Wrong answer!! ”You would leave for ten years of service? Your entire clan? Of course, I must confer with my fellow officers, but- but,” no fear, he was a perfect tool, focused and efficient, a soldier of the Lord!!! He and only he could protect his people! His host chimes in, encouraging, reminding him of the many martyrs that had joined Him in His kingdom!!
“-but... can I add the condition that you do not turn me while I serve you?”

The vampire queen giggled at the sudden internal turmoil shes caused. It was well worth it. She was even more delighted by the knights answer. It was a rather unexpected gesture, but not one she didnt have an answer for.
“We will leave this region, as long as your orders control remains or a century- whichever comes first,” she utters, ”For our bargains do not transfer.” Then, with a white, sharp smile, she leans in closer to the knight. ”No conference. Secure the exchange, leave your angels, and come stand by our side for ten years.” Her hand was almost completely back to normal now. She extended it outward and held it aloft like a soaring dove. ”We promise to neither turn you nor ensorcel you. You will willingly serve. “

Is he being too eager? She can't think this is a good deal, one man for the safety of a country? Of everyone he loved?? He couldn't possibly refuse, and she can't possibly know??
He feels sick with nerves and joy, a pair of eyes open up at his cheekbones, shifting his stoic face so that his mutated result seems somehow... delighted?
“If you do not interfere with this region and do not turn me, then yes, even without counsel, we can proceed. I have parchment, magical and binding, for the hostages, and for this new agreement.”
He reaches to his hip, not for his weapon, but for the case holding quill and parchment. He hadn't imagined this would happen so soon, if at all. And for such an unbalanced trade??
One life, when so many would be spared... They could regroup, grow strong without the constant wear of fear and death!!
Has he forgotten anything?? What is the catch?? He unclasps the case, and his chest feels as if it will burst.
Focus!!
“I will write out your words and mine. My angels will deliver it once I release them. Is that acceptable?”
He tries to sound steady and proud, but he feels young and giddy and terribly frightened.

The sharp smile spread across the queens face and her eyes glowed. Such enthusiasm.
“Our word is absolute,” she reminded him, ”our blood has fallen upon the floor. We are beholden to all that has been promised, once an agreement is reached.” She leaned forward and placed her hand upon his case gently. ”Nobody will know of your sacrifice. Your angels are beholden to our silence as well. Your men will receive their missing commanders. Your angels will fly free. And you will disappear...” Her hand floated back and rested on her knee once more for it was up to him to try and bargain otherwise. She hated the pen and paper. Humans had grown so reliant on it. It held her to nothing except ink. Blood was far more binding. ”Only to reappear in ten years, if you so choose. And my children and I will not return to land as long as your men rule.” Leaning her weight back once more, the queen seemed to be done or at least at rest. Suddenly, she popped up once more. ”Oh, and they must return your name. We do not treat servants the same way they do.”

“Ah- I did not mean to imply you are an oath breaker, madam!’ He's dizzy with happiness!
“Only that, especially without a consultation, I would like my men to know when and where to make the returns, and of course, to leave you and yours alone as you depart?”
His body buzzes with energy. He is going to change the world. The now unkempt, gore-spattered wings flutter with uncontained excitement as the knight frantically writes these terms-
”Wh-at?” The movement, the glittering, the joy that flowed from the man like steam, all stops.
Ivan looks up. The second set of eyes close. He looks like a kicked puppy.
”Disappear- y-yes. Of course. I- that's alright.” The emotion that had been obvious since the man had entered the Queen’s halls goes dead. He looks away, back to his parchment. Blots out two lines with a shaking finger, and continues to write.
“W-we can arrange the exchange for... for a night from this evening. After, you.. we, we will leave.”
Ivan swallows. The Lord would welcome those that gave everything for him. Everyone he loved would be safe from a life of monsters.
“I don't understand what you mean about my name, though. I told you, I am Commander Ivan Ivanovich, and I have no reason to lie. But if you need anything that I cannot provide, my angels will continue to serve until this parlay is complete.”
His voice is completely flat, but he offers a hand to the woman.
“Do we have an accord, then?”

“We dont just want your word,” the queen responded, letting her hand hover just short of his. ”We want their word as well. This agreement is for all parties present.” Once again her eyes shifted and seemed to stare straight through the knight. ”For you cannot give what they have.” Behind the knight, the servant shifted, collecting his things and excusing himself. Without a word, he nodded at his mistress and walked once more into the archway. ”Tonight. There will be no time reconsider. No time for conference amongst any of you,” her fingers began to twitch. ”Return, secure the transfer at the oasis night market,” she emphasized the need for silence and immediacy, “And three of us will return, collect my children, and leave this region for as long as your men hold it.” Her eyes closed and she pushed air through her nose. ”And ten years will begin for you, my little lost one.”

”Ah- of course.”
He looks up to her, his heart still sinking. It must be somewhere in the depths of Hell, now.
”I must pray, but it is not an attack. You want all of them to agree, so... “
Ivan closes his eyes and begins to murmur. He tries to be quiet, to keep the sound from the Queen’s sharpears, a futile effort.
A light gathers through the room, centering around the cross at the knight's chest. It coalesces into forms, dozens, scores, more than the room could fit. The host stares down at the dark Queen.
There is a soft, tentative voice. It raises in song, impossible to understand or remember, but beautiful nonetheless.
Another voice joins, and another, and it is a massive choir, each note speaking loving, frightening words that the mind could not comprehend, but gave the feeling of family affection, love of country, righteousness, duty, discipline, loyalty, sacrifice...
We will obey.
The lights condense back on the knight, covering him, then wink out like stars, until the Queen and the knight at least seem alone once more. Lost one. She did know...? Ah. Not a poor bargainer, she's just cruel.
Fortunately, her cruelty would still save everyone he loved.
Will that satisfy you, Madam?

Tiny, cool fingers flood the knights palm. Smooth and delicate, yet devoid of all life, they wrap around his hand and stay there, as if the Queen didnt know how shake.
“Oma,” she corrected the young man who had now assigned himself to her service. ”I appreciate your enthusiasm,” she says with a jagged smile. “I believe you will come to learn a great deal by my side.” Once he is satisfied with their pact, she quickly stands and offers out her arm to the knight. “And although it was not promised, no harm will come to you during time here. However, I will encourage you to learn as much as you can in my retinue, including experience with our appetites.” With a chuckle, the severity of their interact dissipated. The knight would perceive a completely different -almost jovial and familiar manner- about the dark queen’s demeanor. ”But I get ahead of myself. Let me call your commander,” she clapped her hand once more and the bedraggled, thin servant that hand waited on them moments early entered back through the archway. ”Let’s take you home,” she said with a smile.

”Yes, Miss Oma.”
He takes the arm, still with the air of a prisoner waiting for the executioner.
”Thank you, Miss Oma. The angels- “ he still needed to free them, but she has called- his commander? The servant?
”Sir?! Sir- Oh- Heaven above-!!” He hadn't looked at their face! Assumed it was just another vampire- it had touched angel blood- he had touched angel blood!!
”Budimir!! Lord-!! I can't believe- but- but there was record of your death!!”
He makes a start towards the man, to embrace him- when he looks at his new... master. He flinches.
”Madam- Oma, may I please say goodbye to this man?? I know you- our agreement stands but-” no record of him left. Just disappear- ”I won't break it, I just need him to carry a message back, if- if you allow... “
His stone heart begins to beat again. Excited wings flutter a breeze into existence.

The queen laughs again. ”You seem to have me confused with some kind of warlord or dictator,” her eyes shift through him again, ”or perhaps an angel.” She laughs again at her own joke. ”And no madam or miss. Oma is fine.” She walks up to both men and with a slight nod, the servant or was he Budimir once again placed his rather thin and feeble hands on the knights arm. The queen nods in approval and turns to her newest acquisition.
”No conference, such was the agreement,” she said shaking her finger at him as if he were a naughty child, “in fact, he will be free of our bond upon the exchange. So any message you passed on would be forgotten upon my request.” She offered her arm out once more. ”Tell me, then,” she said as she waited, “what message is it that you do wish to send? I am curious.” With a snap of her fingers, the human servant took up a place at her other side, although she chose not to take his arm. She had someone new to play with.

Not a dictator? Did he hope?? Oh- oh praise the Lord-!!
He wraps the frail soldier in his arms in a massive bear hug, spinning the poor thing around in a tremendous show of gold and light.
”You're alive!!! Your mother was going to kill me when I returned but you're alive!! And the Lord will see to your health, and- oh!! this is just-!!”
The knight's youth truly shines through his happiness. When Ivan sets the disoriented man back down, hand still affectionately on his shoulder, the prisoner is far less sickly and frail. A dusting of gold dances around him before dissipating.
“Ivan...? Yes, yes I survived the battle at Long Night- “
Any message would be forgotten-?!
His attention tears away from his friend, who had gone silent at the Queens voice.
“Why- it won't be about anything that matters here, must you-?!” No, do not shout, Lord let him not fuck this up....
”I- it doesn't matter to you,” he tries to keep the desperation from his voice.
“Nothing to do with- with this, just,” he turns back to Budimir, who is cowering, looking away- useless- back to the woman...
“I need him to look after my family. My wife. My children. I do not- I- they cannot think I simply abandoned them- I... my children cannot believe I am a coward!! That- that I did not... not... love... them enough to.... it- but... you will make him forget.
We will all forget.
I..
Alright.”
The passionate fires gutter and die as he sinks back into himself. This was a good thing. They would at least be safe....

The queen rested her cold hand upon his once more.
“I am only taking ten years, not a lifetime, “ she said to him with a concerned look. She was cruel, but not heartless, unkind, but not unfeeling. He had a family. ”I could,” she offered, “with your permission, make my last command that your friend take care of you family in your stead until your return. Then, no messages leave and yet your family is not adrift at sea. Let them think what they do in your absence. That was our deal.” The knight had a surprising amount of pride. It did not take long for him to worry about what they would think of him. She would learn as much about him as he would of her. This was a telling display.
“And,” she made one last offer, ”for your sacrifice, I will provide for them.” The queen could spare a few coin to see to a decade of discomfort. Time was a completely different concept to queen. 10 years was a blink of an eye. She had some idea that it would an eternity to a holy man, and a father. But her immortality had robbed her of real sympathy.

The knight avoids looking at her as she argues against his concern, not trusting himself.
”Could you-? You mean.. command... he would be compelled??” And Ivan would be forgotten. Disappeared. Perhaps his children would forget him, rather than.. than be sad and ashamed....
The persistent light surrounding Ivan dims, and goes out, as if the rooms darkness has taken him. Even the wings seem to shrink. Without the pageantry, the Queen's newest servant seems hardly over twenty years, perhaps less.
Better they forget him, than mourn. Maybe occasionally wonder, but not... hurt. He could protect them from monsters, and he could protect them from grief....
The knight nods obediently.
”Nobody needs to know. Of course. I will disappear as you wish, Oma.”

thearchivist
God

Posts: 2,186

The Queen and the Knight Nov 5, 2018 0:58:03 GMT -8

Quote

Post by thearchivist on Nov 5, 2018 0:58:03 GMT -8

The room's quiet is interrupted only by the scratch of chalk on the stone floor. It's cold down here, in his robes, and the hard ground is not merciful on his still-healing wounds. The only light is that of his wings, but it is plenty to see by as he etches complex symbols into small sections.
He wishes he had a souvenir. Something to keep with him after he left. But what good would it do him? His souvenir is a family that will not be afraid of predators.
The delicate chalk pattern had taken hours, more time than he wanted to think about this. The angels whisper words of comfort, cheerful songs, remind him of happy memories.
He sits in the center of his intricate circle.
"...Lord in Heaven... please... please let them have a happy life. Do not let them dwell on me... Amen.."
It was hardly a prayer. Then angels assure them they would watch over, and he is comforted.
Alright. There was no point putting this off. He pulls out a small wooden flute, beautifully carved with crucifix and prayer, and begins to play strange, breathy notes, the jumpy melody barely even a melody, barely even music.
The first of his angelic host to leave him is Loyalty. The song gently plucks the angel from his body, its departure taking with it his pride in serving those he believed in, for a cause that was worth his life. Duty is next, a heavier weight that had enjoyed loyalty's company. So many missions, so much on his shoulders, each battle, each hunt, each responsibility growing less and less clear until there is nothing...
His country? What was it called again? He can't remember, but the freezing, crisp winter took his breath with beauty and cold, while his people were so, so warm...
It is cold on the ground, and dark. There is a light above him, but he must keep playing. No time to look up, and then he can't recall why he'd even had the thought to do so.
His family is next. He'd liked to have kept them longer, his wife's wonderful arguing, her sweet, unimpressed voice, calling out his silliness and praising him when others only feared... his daughter? She was hardly a person yet, but she had smiled at him when she'd arrived on that warm summer evening, first, before anyone else. He had her first smile, and... and even when he disappeared, it had been and always would be a blessing....
His sons... his sons, they weren't strong yet but- but he believed... what.... did he believe??
That...
...?
He needed to keep playing.
For God, or... for... because to not play was wrong. And he hated wrong, he could fix wrong, with enough training, with his own gifts, he could make the world better, even at the cost of....
What was the cost?
What...

The host slowly abandons their knight. Some linger, a few touch him, embrace him, but he cannot see them. The last one leans down to kiss his cheek. The flute falls.
It was a good bargain. The demon gave up many, many souls, and received nothing in return.

Alone in his circle, the nameless, empty tamer stares at nothing.

Surprisingly, the wait was agonizing for the ancient vampire. Somewhere in that room was a being that might know a glimmer of the truth. The knight and the angels might think her cruel, but she too had given up something extremely important in this trade. Moving her children had always been a consideration. Far too many of them had perished or been threatened by the church. She could stay and fight until the bitter end, but the cost would be to great to her. Age was wearing her down. Every day brought a darkness most others of her kind could not fathom. Her children would wonder why they often found her upon the shore staring out into the waves. The water was one of the few things that calmed her mind and the turmoil of her memories.

And this slow decay was what had made her that much more desperate. It made her cling to this land that much longer, even against her children's wishes. One of those heavenly hosts had to know where the key to her ancient riddle was hiding. They were out there somewhere.

The distant sound of the flute reached her ears and she was plunged deep, a memory within a memory.

Lingering touches, embraces, and a gentle kiss.

Where was her angel? Had they abandoned her or worse punished.?

The answers in her mind faded as they did in the room that held the knight. She had lost her best chance at finding them again. What was this eternity for, if not this? Her fist banged against a heavy door. This wouldn't do at all. She'd make a terrible first impression. The vampire quickly swallowed her unfathomable rage and sorrow, composing herself for meeting to come. Imposing doors swung wide, and she entered the room that held a circle and a kni.now a man. Gliding silently to him, she held out her hand as a sign of peace, and, if he was willing, used it to caress his cheek.

"Welcome," she greeted him, "I have three gifts for you this evening."

There is a sound. Alright. The man doesn't wonder at it, though it makes him jump. Someone joins him in his small dark little world.
He doesn't look up from the point of the wall he's staring at when she approaches, even when she speaks to him. Even when she touches him.
It doesn't occur to him to wonder.

In the corner of the room, barely enough to illuminate the gloom, a dim light remains. It gives the sense of watching. It is silent and unmoving as the vampire approaches the man, but a form wavers when he is touched. The last angel remains.

The queen bites her thumb and gently wipes it across the brow of the kneeling man. "Degare," she said softly,"is my first gift. It shall be what you answer to in my service." Her thumb healed before it hit her side. "My second gift is my protection," she says as she kneels before the knight and pulls a small silver dagger from a concealed point beneath her robes. She places it delicately in one of his hands, handle first, and points it directly at her chest. "May you strike me down if I ever falter on this gift." Her hands fall away from his, leaving the dagger aloft of as long as he is willing. "Finally, my last gift," her voice lifts as if to make sure it reached the remaining presence in the room. Her hand clasps a trinket around her neck and tears it loose of it's chain. It is an ancient, carved thing, heavy with stories. "Is the ability to see clearly, unburdened by the emptiness." The charm is tucked within his other palm. "When you are ready, rise. And see the world once more with your own eyes." Without another word, she stands and makes her way slowly towards the corner of the room, her head bowed.

"Tell me why you linger," she asks the gentle light. Her eyes are sad and soft, lacking the malice she had demonstrated earlier. There was no trickery in this exchange nor the one that had just occurred.

The blood elicits a confused, heavy blink from the man. He closes his eyes, and quietly rasps the name.
"Degare..."
He looks down as the dagger is placed, but only stares at it uncomprehendingly. His eyes return to the spot on the wall before him, when the charm is placed in his other hand.
The dark eyes lock onto it instantly, then dart back to the Queen. There is a clatter as he drops the weapon to clasp the trinket in both hands. As she moves away, he drifts again, but keeps a tight grip on the final gift.
The light becomes a small, youthful creature when addressed.
"I loved our child. I did not know love until I was tamed. I did not know any human emotion. They are pleasant, some of them. Our child was nice. I..."
The faceless creature watches the circle, their tamer...
"I would like to watch him, just... a little longer. It was his final hope and... I will not interfere."

The queen extended a small, pale hand to the light. "Then why not stay," she said with a bittersweet smile, "but only if we can come to an agreement." She saw something in the spirit that she hadn't in a long time. Over thousands of years the angels had changed. The rise of the church coincided with the rise in their aggression towards her kind. They were always at odds, but not with the same fervor of today. "I am well-versed in the love of children. As much I am with the love of one of your kind," she offered freely. "I would not want to deny either you nor him that." Her other hand reached up and pulled away at the veil over head. Blonde tresses cascaded freely down her back now. It was as if a star had suddenly burst forth, despite the odds, of the dark pull of the black hole. "But you must also understand my intention with the standing agreement," she said, "For if you stay, you will come to understand more, potentially conflicting emotions. And I will not have you influence them in any way." What she asked of the angel could potentially damn them. That was most certainly how she believed she had lost her own love ages ago.

I did not know love.... Once again she was plunged deep into warm, sandy memories of a time so very far in the past. How sharp the images in her head still were. It was the glowing intensity of her companion. They were forever burned into her heart. They too had loved. They too had wanted to stay longer. And despite their intent they had interfered. And it had cost them both everything. She knew nothing of the spirit before her. What came next would be a surprise. But it was well worth it.

"An agreement..." There is little resembling human emotion in the voice, but there is something... like watching a drop of water, clinging, ready to fall, just a bit... more... ti-
"No. No I will not turn from my Lord. I trusted this child to shape me, but I do not put myself in your hands. He will be fine, or he will not, but you will keep his soul intact as to his agreement. That is all a mortal should hope for."
The creature dims, shrinks in on itself. No emotion in it's otherworldly voice, but the room felt like rain, a hopeless month of it, when you only wanted sun and warmth, and there was no end to the cold, dreary loneliness.
Would you ever feel happy again?
The light disappears without any goodbyes.
There is something sharp and aching about it's departure, enough that the man on the floor lets out a soft sob... or perhaps just a sigh...
They are alone.

qvq
Administrator

Posts: 77

The Queen and the Knight Nov 5, 2018 1:26:24 GMT -8

Quote

Post by qvq on Nov 5, 2018 1:26:24 GMT -8

The queen threw down her mantle. “Coward,” she cried after the dimming light, her hand outstretched at the man behind her, “how dare you abandon him!” Her words were punctuated with a shrill, exasperated scream. How weak they were! How little love and memories meant to the angels. They loved what they could gleam off the humans, but were not willing to sacrifice anything on their end. She turned around and stomped away from where the spineless creature had fled and walked towards the human she had christened Degare. Her heart ached for him even more. Without hesitation she embraced her ward, burying her head into his chest. He would hear a momentary sob. Her heart was broken for him… but also for herself. She didn’t want to think that this was how her love had ended as well. In fact, it was her worst fear. The higher powers were more important than either of them. They truly were insignificant. Life was insignificant.

Her hands would eventually release Degare, as she leaned over to collect the blade. Like a doting mother, she tucked it into his belt and secured it with a little pat. How unbecoming, she thought, smoothing out her hair and her dress. “May you one day find someone who will not abandon you,” she said taking his hand with hers. “May you be a man who does not abandon others in the face of fear.” She looked up at him and offered a gentle smile. “For now, our journey begins. It will be amazing.”

The man- Degare, now, waits like a doll through her outburst. He can hear the words, understand them separately, but make nothing of them together. Coward. Abandon. Was she talking to him. He's not curious, except here is a strangeness when he is grabbed. Wrapped up? His skin feels... something. Impossible to describe, without context.... different than a moment before. And where the woman’s coolness touches his directly... good and bad are beyond him, but he feels less... something, when she releases him.
And his heart. It is quiet inside, steady, but as he is held, the sluggish throb speeds up, painful, until he gasps with the physical sensation.
She says more words. The only words he had, now. May you one day find someone who will not abandon you. For now, our journey begins. It will be amazing.
Do not abandon others...
Alright.
He takes her hand as seems to be expected, silently repeating the words to himself, until the little meaning he could glean melts into utter nonsense...
Still, there was... something...
He repeats the rhythm of her words in his head, though he wouldn't have known what to call it.
His heart beats fast with it as he clutches her in one hand and the gift in the other.
Her face changes, and her servant doesn't return the smile. Unlike before, however, his unfocused gaze stops drifting, drawn instead to the queen...

In the tiny, crowded bar, Eydis’s song comes to a close. Her hand has already found its way into the shivering priest’s hand. Pearls of condensation have fallen from her mug and pooled beside her as though it were weeping at the tune. Or perhaps something more. The moment is broken as she offers a little burp, and excuses herself with a childlike giggle. All the while, her eyes stay closed and her head lays against the sticky bar. There was something about her hand in his that felt right to the ancient vampire. Like it had found a good home. She squeezed his long, slender fingers with hers. “Did you enjoy it,” she finally whispers, without clarifying what exactly she meant. Her eyes open slowly, revealing the pale, almost colorless blue of her irises. This time around, her eyes seem to stare directly at him rather than through him.

His grip tightens. The feeling he couldn't describe before now has too many names, doubling, tripling as his dead emotion floods back. She moves- to move away?! And a panic rises in him, his shivering becomes a terrified shudder-
The queen burps.
Lays down beside him in his chalk-rune circle, and he wonders at it, looks around-?! A bar???
Johnny clutches at the heavy gold cross at his chest while still tightly clutching the vampire’s hand.
“Oma- Oma I am- what is- I am afraid I- I do not understand-?!” His whimpered words are clumsy, as if he had just recently learned to speak.
A sudden rush of whispers overwhelms her drinking partner. Johnny’s dark eyes bloom a hot pink. He returns her ancient smile with a wide, careening one of his own.

Eydis sighed and began to trace hearts with the water puddled around her drink. She would not release her grip on his hand. She never had. Never would. It felt comfortable there. “Now look what you’ve gone and done,” she responded. “All those bees buzzing around. You are sure to get stung.” She waved her free hand in front of her face as her head lifted off the bar. Ignoring the jagged smile, she took up her drink and managed to get down about half of it before setting it back on the bar. “But that’s what you get, when you let a hive grow in your tree.” She wagged her finger at the priest in a chiding, but harmless gesture. What a lovely evening it had been so far! It was nice to catch up with old friends! She had desperately wanted to say hullo the other day. But he had run off with that frightened little bird at the gate.

“I-I am sorry-! Just-” His efforts to quiet them at her bidding only make their protestations worse. They're all speaking, and he can't remember who each of them are, and were they not all angels??? He’s infested with monsters?! He needs Oma-!!
“I am sorry, I am sorry I did not mean, I am sorry-”
A tail lashes behind them as Johnny begins to curl in his seat, covering his head with one hand, trying to keep the world and his own internal workings at bay. The task is impossible.
Only the hand in his makes any sort of sense. It's not one that gives context to any of the horror, but it is the one solid, right thing in his world.
The tamer goes quiet, but he continues to rock with anxious discomfort. His soft, lone voice begins to count. As the numbers go higher, his movement slows.
Finally, he stops.
His hand tenses around hers.
“I- ... I need ... I need hives, Oma. Y-you know... Without them, something else comes in. That... that.... that won't do, will it?”
His voice is petulant and barely audible, but he manages not to stutter and slur quite so badly.

Eydis leaned over and placed a free hand on the back of his head. The priest would feed a gentle kiss on the side of his face. As she drew back, her nose nuzzled his cheek. As if she were sharing a secret, Eydis whispered softly to the confused priest. “Have you forgotten so soon,” she asked, “I guess we all do.” Her hand slowly stroked the naked flesh stretch across his skull. She hummed a few more notes before moving back into her chair, suddenly feeling rather drained herself.

Suddenly, Eydis was set upon by the feeling that she had a run a marathon that she couldn’t quite remember. It made her dizzy. The sounds of the waves were so far away now. Her head hit the bar with a resounding thud. A moment passed without any movement from her. Slowly, she looked back up and around. The tiny vampire seemed slightly confused, yet she offered the priest a friendly smile. “Oh, hullo,” she said with a nod. “Lovely day for it.” Two hand clamped around the mug and she made quick work of the last of it. Her lips smacked as she finished. Maybe she’d have another.

She kisses him.
The world slows down. He fills with an ancient calm. This is alright. If he just focused on her, everything will be alright.... there-! There, he had found one of his oldest... the love spirit... After all this time, he'd found it again, somehow...? How long....?
Johnny laughs, a wet, injured sound as she pets him. Hums for him. He was... was hers??... but...
He remembered forgetting. Nightmare-like, disjointed, wavering, but there is something in his mind he can hold onto of a moment... that moment...
Impossible...
He wants to forget it again. No one should have to remember being broken. Piece by piece, ripped away... No one could remain sane...
Let it fade.
“It... not all that soon, even for... for us.”
That moment..
Moments ago, he had been an empty husk. How long ago, really..??
Let it fade.
He looks around the bar in wonder-
That bar!!! That Goddamned bar!!! He knew it!!!
But just then, Oma removes her hand.
His discomfort is excruciating. He wiggles his chair closer, until he is pressed against her again.
This... was reality.
Before... already only a half remembered nightmare...
“It's... it is night time, Oma. But hello! That's ok, you are right, aside from that. It is a very lovely day.”
After a slight hesitation, he wraps and arm around her tiny shoulders. His evil, barbed tail drapes lazily around her waist.
Johnny drinks his drink. The wary bartender fills it, and Oma’s, for the priest’s coin.
Let it fade.
“...Do you know, I learned some very good drinking songs while we have been apart?”

What a wonderful thing it is to have a full glass, a good friend, and a promise of song! Eydis looked up at the priest with wide, innocent eyes full of excitement. “ A song,” she cried, “and a journey. How exciting!” Her hands clapped together in delight. The arm around her felt nice, as did the tail. It reminded her of something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Oh well. It would come to her later. Her naked feet swang in the air, as her legs weren’t quite long enough to reach the foot bar. “Would you share them with me?,” she asked, “I can’t offer you much.” With that the queen dug through her dirtied dress for something hidden within- something that would make for worthwhile trade. “Aha,” she cried out as her fist returned from the layers of fabric. “I do hope this will do.” Her hand unfurled, revealing a small, faded silver piece. It was thin, not the kind of thing used for currency. The pattern on either side was well worn. Like so many cherished things, it looked as though it was kept close and over time its constant use removed all the detail.

The confusion drifts to the back of his mind, as do the sharp, hazy, dream-like, all floating away... They could be examined later, perhaps, if truly necessary...
But Oma’s bright, exuberant face is in front of him now... he had lived for that smile...
When...?
Let it fade...
The harsh light around the tamer fades, and his awful smile transforms into a rare, genuine thing. He leans his head against the woman like a long lost cat come home, then clinks his glass to hers.
“I would be delighted to share, Oma, as that is what they were meant for! Like drinking itself, far better in company!”
He looks at the shiny coin with interest but no recognition, takes it without fuss.
In his hand it’s a different story. The weight, the feel... he stares down into his glove, expression faltering. He's tempted to take off his covering, to feel the metal against his bare palm, as if it might make the feeling more clear....
But the silence has crept on too long.
Let it fade...... please
“I w-will trade it back to you for another song sometime, Oma...”
His voice is somber, but that wasn't right. This was a celebration!
“Alright, enough of this water. Can we get some whiskey, at least? Or whatever it is you call liquor in this town- thank you!”
Another coin- not Oma’s - another glare, and glasses of something not entirely appetizing is set before the odd pair.
“Now, this one has a good chorus, so you’ll be able to catch it quickly, I am certain, Oma,” Johnny assures.
He downs the absolutely terrible liquor in one go and, in a deep voice, begins a lively tune about a Wild Rover…

End

Francis, Johnny, & Gand

Streitstadt

title

The Queen and the Knight

Post by qvq on Nov 4, 2018 22:36:59 GMT -8

Post by thearchivist on Nov 4, 2018 23:07:40 GMT -8

Post by thearchivist on Nov 5, 2018 0:00:52 GMT -8

Post by thearchivist on Nov 5, 2018 0:22:53 GMT -8

Post by thearchivist on Nov 5, 2018 0:54:06 GMT -8

Post by thearchivist on Nov 5, 2018 0:58:03 GMT -8

Post by qvq on Nov 5, 2018 1:26:24 GMT -8