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 Posted: Sat Jun 23, 2007 7:26 pm
Gelir stepped briskly down the cobble-stoned path taking care not to stumble in in her rather highly platformed boots. Why she choose to wear the blasted things is far beyond any hope of explanation. The important thing was that she had taken the afternoon off from watching the brat and was searching for supplies for the classes she had prepared to teach. And maybe, if she were feeling generous, she'd buy some new tapestries for the common rooms. Sighing, she pulled the ever-falling strap of her blouse back up and wiped the sweat from her brow. "It is much too hot for this time of day." She growled, startling the poor child next to her, whom nearly wet themselves. Gelir grinned, it's not her fault she looks intimidating, you try raising a spoiled brat and saving his life repeatedly for 81 years. Hmph, in fact, she'll assure you her voluptuous, yet physically fit body was quite well earned. Now, where was she? Oh yes, buying shinies. Or rather, new holders for her magic, granted, she could make them herself, but where's the fun in that? She picked out a few. They were far too expensive really, but who can put a price on a moonstone embellished sphere that opens and shuts with the click of a tongue, and holds 50 enedh (roughly equivalent to the kJ in chemistry, the unit of magical energy)? Anyway, back to work...err...shopping. Catching a fine deal on some interesting props for class and a set of enchanted notebooks for the other class, she figured she could simply browse the rest of the goods and if something interesting popped up, then hey, it was all to the school's benefit anyway, right?
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Posted: Sat Oct 27, 2007 6:50 pm
Laden an Golodhim, the Land of the Elves, is considered one, if not the, most beautiful nation in all the world. The air so crisp and fresh with eternal spring; the very trees sing with natural enchantment, the water so pure and dazzling like flowing liquid crystal, and the inhabitants who live up to the bespelling myths of lore all make Laden an Golodhim the true paradise of dreams. At least...the dreams of all except those who consider it a prison...a beautiful and fantasy like prison...but a cage is a cage where the locks are made of steel or magic.
The woman occupying the cushioned window sill bench mulled over the thought as the soft Laden an Golodhim breeze ran invisible yet gentle fingers over her face and hair. Her long golden hair lazily swept the edges of her form with each breath and withdrawal of the calm wind; her deep emerald eyes glowed brightly as the rays of the sun kissed her pale face...her expression...was grim, displaying her feelings as to being the prisoner these people considered her to be. Her arms were crossed beneath the voluptuous expanse of her breast that even through the long trench coat were visible. She had one knee bent as the leg remained flat booted and propped up on the bench, while the other hung lazily over the side. She was leaning back against the frame of the window staring out at the populace below as they went about their business.
All of them looked so peaceful, happy, and care-free...None of them aware or caring as to what the rest of the world was enduring.
She was so alien to them in all things: mind, blood, and appearance. However, her garb set her more apart from this place then anything else at first glance. The colors of the night, the velvet blackness and navy blues of the shadowed realms where few dare venture adorn her body in clads of leather, cotton, and vinyl. Her fair skin, so untouched by sunlight, and metallic colored hair set against the darkness made her features even more pronounced and striking. She was of noble birth, well cared for and clearly a lady...though she looked anything but delicate with her well toned body and youthful face stained with the terrible weight of knowledge...
And nightmares.
She remained quite and still, looking like a statue to those not watching closely enough for her breaths. She looked out at them, down at them...into them...and all she could see was ignorance and bliss...the two coinciding hand and hand. How was it possible to be at the mercy of such a race of...beings?
A soft chirping and purring crept into the atmosphere of the hotel room, deep green eyes traveled over to the source and away from the people below. In a corner opposite the window in an ornately decorated cage hanging from a tall stand, flittered and cooed a small blue bird who's movements were the only in the room. The bird's feathers were a soft and light blue around it's head and back before it began to bleed into deeper shades of cerulean and aqua. It was a truly beautiful little bird, one native and common in this land while it existed in no other, and instead of flying free as it was meant to...it remained alone and trapped within a prison of beautifully carved wood and wire.
Trapped...trapped and alone...two things she and the small creature had in common.
The bird's feathers complimented the colors and themes of the room she had been ordered to remain in; soft and blue like the freshly bloomed spring flowers of the Meadow Lands. The room was large in size with well maintained hard wood floors, expensive blue throw rugs embroidered in silver thread, and a bed fit for any Lord or Lady of the realm. The ceiling was high due to its position on the top floor, a mobile hung from the center of the room with semi-precious stones and natural white and blue flowers adorning it...it was suppose to give the illusion of starlight and flower petals falling upon the sleeping at night. There was a desk made of mahogany along the far wall, a set of entables on each side of the bed, the bed made with a ridiculous amount of pillows and comforters covering it, and an unlit fireplace within the brick area of the wall, tapestries of blue flowing around the frame of it, at the far foot of the bed. It was lavish, expensive, and far to classy for the woman's taste...but she did not have a choice in the meeting place.
She was fitted with her "magical lock" and told that she would be meeting her charge for the first time in this place. The "lock" was fitted securely around her neck and hidden as well as she could manage beneath the curtains of her hair and the collar of her coat. The coat was not to combat the springly warm air...but to hide the various and deadly items that lay beneath. She was a warrior after all.
Waiting...she could only wait. It wasn't as though time mattered to her at the moment, the memories of her pain were to fresh yet. She came to be here by whatever power on high's saving grace, and whatever devil who dwelled beneath's bitter curse. By being found by these people and cared for after the betrayal she endured at the hands of one of her own, she would live...but at the price of her freedom and the knowledge that her kingdom had burned to the ground in her absence. She would always rather have died with them then to live on without them in such a state.
Parvanthious was gone...and she was only there to witness the ashes of its former glory.
These people, however good their intentions at first, sought it fit to keep her as a Prisoner of War instead of setting her back to whatever of her people might have been left or executing her. She was valuable to them as either a bargaining chip or "Guardian" as they called it...she preferred the term "slave" and told them as such much to their infuriation. To the common people of this place and all she had been carted though, she was considered an "oddity" a "creature of interest", a "dark elf", a "freak", an "enemy"...as she should since this massive land and her own had been at war for centuries. They tried to convince her to fit in and cloth herself as one of them, even cut her floor length hair; but she refused to shed the identity of her origin and endured the staring, gawking, and hate in exchange for her individuality. It was all she had left...her blood was all she had left.
That...and revenge.
But for now she would wait...wait for her new assignment as "prisoner"..."Guardian"..."slave" to arrive and take charge of. If it were not for the hope of returning to her nation and slaying every and all of those involved in the betrayal of her and her kingdom, she would have forced them to either kill her or be killed. It was taking great self control to keep herself in check...a great deal indeed.
Oh how the great Lady, Grand Warrior, and Honored High Lord: Yeleklyn Setesray Aroblekx...has fallen.
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Posted: Wed Oct 31, 2007 7:34 pm
The enjoyment of the purchase now behind her, Gelir thought about the next task on her agenda, and perhaps the most important. It's not like she wasn't going to get around to it eventually, but it never is a fun task. Despite having bought the Serimf herself, she could understand to an extent the suffering bestowed upon her. Gelir had been slightly more than a small child when she was told to guard Acharn. And while this Kelbora did not even have any responsibility to her race, as she did, Kelbora will not also have to suffer through the raising of two infants either. If she did not desire someone of physical strength to offset her dear brother, she would not have bothered, however, these POWs will be bought someplace, she might as well have done it. The party that had found her, or 'rescued' her as they put it, had placed the poor woman in a plush inn towards the south of the market. It was popular for such exchanges, letting the prisoner see just how 'fun and lively' their new world will be. Gelir only hoped her brother was firm yet smart about the way he treated his new acquisition. In fact, she just might have to speak with him about that. He didn't quite know about Kelbora yet, but she was a surprise birthday present anyway. That boy needed to get away from those Magic Theory texts and explore the land, meet some girls, and having to live with one might open him up some, despite not being able to be attracted to her. She stepped lightly up the entrance way of the inn, seeing many young fey and Serimf peering out the window, not knowing that they are so close to one another in their loneliness, or that they might never see each other except in mere passing. She wondered which one was her new acquisition with a grim smile, knowing that she's probably better off in her homeland, where she was probably content with before her world came spiralling down on her and she became a victim of politics. A young peasant girl with soft mouse brown hair greeted her politely, amber eyes glittering nervously, noticing Gelir's rank immediately.
"Is there anything I can do for you, most noble lady Gelir Draug, Queen of these lands, most gene-" She said, barely controlling a stutter, and clutching at her skirts.
"That's quite enough young lady, would you please show me to the room in which I may pick up a 'Kelbora'?" Gelir mentally sighed at the pathetic display, most peasants sucked up to her expecting handouts. And what's with all this most noble lady s**t? Is it some new trend among the teens? Was it really that long ago since I was one?
"Absolutely, most noble lady Gelir." The girl grabbed a key off the wall and headed down the hall in a well-practiced reasonable pace, not too fast so that you don't hurry the customer, but not so fast that they think you wish to be rid of them. Stopping at a well-decorated door, she pressed the key into the copper slot, and after wiggling it around a bit, heard the registered click. "Well, milady, I believe it's open." And with a curtsy, she left rather quickly. Gelir nodded slightly at her retreating form before taking an extended breath and opening the door. The figure on the window sill wasn't quite what she expected, and in fact was quite grateful. The Serimf did not show the typical signs of resignation, nor did it appear she accepted the elven dress. It showed a strong spirit and determination.
"Good morning, Kelbora? I believe you are to come with me?"
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Posted: Thu Nov 01, 2007 7:52 pm
The moment her sensitive ears picked up the nervous jittering of keys upon a silver ring in the hall, her attention turned towards the door...and a moment later, the lock began to release. She kept her face expressionless and blank, a technique her noble matron had taught her to hold when she was required to hid what she was thinking from other nobles. It was a very useful and ofter frustrating trade to encounter...but Kelbora had learned to exact its fullness with ease.
The hinges of the door were well oiled, as they made no sound when the door swung open. A young Fey girl had stepped away from the door and bowed lowly and respectfully as an older Fey entered...and Kelbora had to do her best to suppress the urge to frown.
The Fey was a young adult Fey...perhaps no more then one hundred and twenty, give or take. Her hair was long in back, but the sides were pulled upwards into two frazzled pony tails that did nothing to catch her long side bangs before her pointed ears. Perhaps it was a popular style among Fey, but where she came from, this hair dressing would not have been seen without raising eyebrows. The young woman's hair was a deep mahogany color and adorn with turquoise ornaments with suggested wealth and class...the color purple in Parvanthian society was a color worn only by mid-class nobles and above, which indicated that she was of such status or higher. Purple was a harder color to create and dye, especially one as vibrant as the woman's, and therefore no commoner could possibly afford the shade.
When Kelbora's deep emerald eyes locked with the woman's, they told her more about the Fey then anything else. Yellow...not just any yellow, but wolf yellow, a harvest moon-yellow...the yellow of the purest liquid gold before it darkens beneath the cooling bath of icy water. It is a metallic and eternally fiery yellow that, according to her studies of Feyian Clanship, were indicative of the Wolf Clan. She did not care much for studying about the social differences between the Feyian Clans...so she knew little else of the group, its rivals, and its enemies...but it would matter little even if she did.
She was still unhappy either way.
Kelbora remained silent as the two looked at each other, more like sizing each other up. As far as the vampire could tell, the Fey was a tad surprised and well practiced in hiding her internal thoughts beyond a shallow expression...as for Kelbora, she was not impressed at all. She was not told what was to become of her other then becoming a "Forced Guardian" of another noble Fey, and now that she saw the person responsible for her detail after the enforcers were done with her...she could only hope that it wasn't some pampered-palace-brat she'd have to put up with until God knew when.
The Feyain woman spoke, apparently to affirm her identity and possibly end this staring contest. She spoke almost entirely in question...but Kelbora had no more answers then she had centimeters on her leash, and frankly...she was not in the mood to get to know this woman or any other Fey in this wretched place.
As far as she was concerned, they were subjects of the enemy and the obstacles keeping her from her search of her kingdom's murders.
Kelbora was silent for a long while. The servant girl assumed she was dismissed and bowed again as she closed the door behind the noble Fey...Kelbora was not happy to be in this woman's presence, but she was certainly discomforted to be in this woman's presence alone. Having witnesses often deterred her from doing something rash and stupid.
"...You seem to know who I am, though I know nothing of you." She said, the first words she had spoken since she was sent from her prison cell to this place. And that had been several days ago. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to enlighten me about where it is you plan to be taking me, and why?"
Technically prisoners of war, especially those forced into..."slavery", were not suppose to ask questions. But Kelbora didn't really give a rat's a**. She had had enough of being silent and silenced, she was tired of being left in the dark and forced to just go with the flow. She was rebellious and commanding by nature, so submission was not one of her better suits by any means. Her mother had ofter chastised her for being to strong-willed and non-conformative for her own good...and now was one of those times when she should be taking her mother's words to heart.
She was a disciplined warrior, but she was also a free-spirited being expected to accept her wretched away freedom without a fuss. Tch...Fey were arrogant things...very arrogant things indeed.
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Posted: Thu Nov 01, 2007 9:25 pm
Allowing herself to snicker, Gelir felt the near to clear things up a bit, it was only polite after all, and this Serimf seemed to be half-assed interesting.
"My name is Gelir Draug, I am the Queen of the Wolf Clan lands of the Elven people. You might have guessed some of it, I make no effort to hide my status. I have 'purchased'," she allowed herself a bitter sneer on that word, "you for my little brother. He will be attending his studies at the academy this year and it's about damn time that he opened up a bit. Feel free to be forceful with him if you desire so, just understand the constraints on your collar. You are not to harm him in any manner, however, do not treat him like glass either. He didn't grow up under my royal bitchness without gathering a tough skin. He is 89 years old and a Spirit Mage, a pretty quick a** one too, so watch yourself, though he doesn't have much of a temper. His twin brother is the one you have to worry about, very protective, that one. You may wonder why I'm being so frank and informative, but honestly, all this pretense bullshit is just that, bullshit. I'm sure you don't like me, and I don't know you enough to like you, so let's deal with each other, hm?"
With that she motioned for the door, "If you have a response or question, it can wait until we exit this posh hole in the earth, I'm rather busy."
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Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 1:20 pm
However direct and seemingly straight forward this woman, Gelir Draug, was, her facial expressions and body language did not reciprocate her words. Kelbora was right to assume nobility and a well schooled master of masking her inner thoughts and feelings...and therefore she, this noble woman, was untrustworthy. Kelbora never trusted nobles, for all nobles will only volunteer the truth when it suits them best and not when it is best for others. It also seemed that her worst case scenario was confirmed: She was babysitter to some wuss of a noble brat.
Damn.
Kelbora's eyes narrowed dangerously when the woman brought up the fact that she was a "bought" commodity. However much it made her scream and thirst for blood inside to hear such a fact...it did not change the truth that it was indeed a fact. Fey, Elves, and Vampires all had one thing in common: it was fair trade to buy and sell Prisoners of War as slaves, body guards, or labor. However, Parvanthious, her home land, had been the exception. Most Prisoners of War in her Kingdom were given clemency so long as they pledged allegiance to the royal family, kingdom, and country which made them full fledged citizens and automatic additions to the ranks of the armies. It was a fair trade, though she couldn't say what happened to those who didn't think so when subjected to "the choice".
Kelbora assumed that they were given to other Vampiric nations to be done with as they willed...but some never made it out of the lands...well, at least their bodies didn't.
This brought Kelbora to her last qualm with her new..."master's" reasons for her purchase...and it heated her blood most of all.
Kelbora continued to look at the woman, face devoid of betraying thoughts and eyes still cold and narrowed. She never took her eyes from her even as she uncrossed her arms and stood on the polished wood floor. Her long golden hair spilled out like a metallic cape behind her as she crossed the floor, boots clicking and echoing with each evenly placed step, her pace smooth and gliding, and her leather coat whispering as it rubbed against the cloth of her clothing beneath. The moment she stood next to the woman, Kelbora was obviously taller then her by at least four inches, she turned her head to look down at her from the side...her eyes colder then the fires of the Ice god's hearth.
"I will not wait to let you know that I will not be forced to do anything that degrades or disembowels my morals. I will protect the whelp, but that is where my job stops." Each word was low and grating just on the side of a growl, her eyes unyielding and intense to make her point crystal clear.
No more was said as she then resumed her pace and walked past the woman in the door way. Most of the people around the inn stopped to gawk and stare at her like she was a passing Reaper of Hades: interesting yet frightening and uncomfortable to stand near all the same. She didn't care at all about their thoughts or their souls, she just wanted the hell out of her and on with her newest assignment.
The sooner it began, the sooner it would end.
She never even turned back to see where the woman, Gelir Draug, was as she descended the stairs and stopped at the bottom of the spiral well. She was still and waiting for the woman to take the hint and come down to continue on with this taxing day. Kelbora would agree to hold her tongue on questions and comments for the rest of this woman's errands, but she no desire to remain in the dark about her fate.
A fate which so far, wasn't looking up.
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Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 2:13 pm
Gelir chuckled darkly and levitated swiftly and gracefully to the enraged vampires side. "I suppose now wouldn't be a good time to joke that you'll be his whore? You truly are uptight. Or that with that thing around your neck I could render you immobile and in pain for those comments? However, if you can pretend to be civil to me, I'll be civil to you, and you can pretend I'm faking it out of some deep resentment for my kind. It's okay really, I don't mind. But could we please get to the academy less hostilely, I'm sure we appear to be two b***h cats with their hair raised and claws out. Not a very inviting picture, hmm?"
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Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 4:30 pm
Kelbora resigned herself not to be antagonized further by this wretched being's antics or provocations. She crossed her arms below her bosom again and steeled herself from giving away how much this Elven wench pissed her off. She was to be no one's "whore", lover, romantic interest, or sex slave of any sort to anyone Elven, Fey, or Vampire. She was a warrior, a noble lady of the House of Aroblekx in favor with the Parvanthian Royal Court, and High Lord in the Vampiric Holy Corps dedicated to serving the Vampiric Monarchy with every breath in their body! She would not be reduced any further then she already had, and that was final!
She remained silent, remembering her Noble mother's words that when faced with a situation where your tongue is your worst enemy, it is best to reign it with will of silence then to let it lash out upon even your worst foe. Tch, to think of all of the wonderful things she could say at this point? Oh how blissfully appealing it would be to rip that pale and slender throat from this b***h's neck...oh how sweet it would be to silence her mocking voice for all eternity...No, no she would have more self control then this.
She might have lost her nation, her people, and anyone who would hold her in the reverence she once endured in the past...but she still had her pride and high opinion of herself. She gave the woman her cold and blank eyes...the invisible aura around her that more powerful Fey, Elven, and Vampiric classes can feel shifting around them was more restrained and frantically burning with suppressed rage. It was true that some very magically astute beings could actually see this aura all living things had...but most could feel it.
Even to Kelbora her aura was crawling across her skin like a thousand frantically fluttering bats' wings...their touch was heated like fire and hair raising like a phantom's touch. But she kept the majority of these effects to herself...it was best not to try and push her luck in this pissing contest where she politically did not have the upper hand. Perhaps if this woman and she had met in a court where titles mattered, the story would be different, the scales of fate dipped differently, and the tables of favor shifting dramatically...
But the ensnared and bound hold not official titles other then slaves. She kept her silence and her place with mute hatred...but she never gave it away other then the room temperature rising a few degrees. Negative emotions were so much harder to control then pleasant ones...go figure? However...she felt herself in control enough to add one thing vocally, even give a smirk at.
"Sorry, but I don't do younger males, brats, and especially not whelps. A man who doesn't earn the right to top me, doesn't earn the right to have me; despite the low standards you might have, I prefer dominates, not submissives." That last bit of sarcasm might earn her a dismal experience to endure, most likely a sharp bit of pain, but it was worth it.
If she couldn't sock the witch, she was going to at least get one insult.
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Posted: Sat Nov 03, 2007 7:13 am
Gelir sighed mentally, this really wasn't going to be fun. No wonder she got such a good deal on her, she's a real b***h. And that aura's ******** creepy, didn't her mother ever tell her to keep it to herself, no manners. Deciding to instigate her no further, Gelir simply lead on down the road, understanding that it was two miles to the academy and was really cursing her decision to walk. But she hadn't expected someone with their panties wadded this tight. Putting judgements on people before she knew them, how rude. "One thing you may notice, if you ever decide to give a s**t about anyone but yourself, is that I rarely show any of the pomp and facade of a royal, I've seen friends dance around war for months because of assumed implications in each others voices. It's pointless, and despite the fact that you think I'm lying, eventually you thick skull might notice that everyone in my court and academy take my words for face value. And if I have to, I could really ******** you up, without the god-damned collar, but I'm in no hurry to exhaust myself. I have my own 'noble' to attend to, and one that has assassination attempts on him practically every night, so I'd rather try and survive than waste energy on a b***h with a pole up her a**." 'Well....I thought we weren't going to instigate, Gelir.' She said to herself. Time to wait for the ******** avalanche.
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Posted: Sat Nov 03, 2007 4:57 pm
Kelbora continued to follow behind the woman like a looming and slightly distant shadow; her dark form and angelic like mane made her quite the freak attraction...but as far as she was concerned, this so-called Queen was the freak attraction.
It was true that she had never met a royal, noble, or anyone of high social status be so blunt, profane, and unrestrained during the voicing of their thoughts; so meeting this woman was both irritating and intriguing. Where did a royal learn to speak with such a filthy tongue? Good heavens! She just got a mental image of what this Queen's court might look like...oh hell, someone on high did not like her, this degraded and homeless soul, very much.
Kelbora groaned and brought one hand to her temples, index and thumb gingerly rubbing them in circular motions as she hung her head while keeping pace, "Someone...just kill me now..." She groaned under her breath. She doubted the woman ahead of her heard her comment, but her inner thoughts were definitely screaming for release!
This...oh, how would one of her newest status say it? ...Royally sucked?
It annoyed her immensely that this woman even continued to add that she could "really ******** her up" without the handicap of her Restraint Collar with no more consequence then "exhausting" herself. Did this woman truly denote her skills so greatly due to her position and lack of weaponry? Yes, to be a Queen she must possess impressive power, but she herself was trained more so in the arts of war, combat, and duels then courtly manner and politics. Noble daughter or not, she was a warrior first and palace subject second. What irritated Kelbora more so then abrupt rudeness?
Calling her skills into question without even seeing the art of her trade.
"Alright then, you want honesty?" Kelbora finally spoke, still keeping time with the woman effortlessly and with her hands now at her sides, "My first impression of you was, to say the least, unpleasant; your mannerisms both baffle and annoy me, and your complete disregard for my person and my capabilities pisses me off most of all. You pass me off as nothing but a pain in the a** with and attitude and a 'pole stuck up my a**' while I am at least trying to understand and figure you out. You've resigned to treat me as property with no more value then cattle, then expect me to become some whorish b***h to a little whelp you've decided needs to become a man and you're incapable of assisting him reach that plateau. You know nothing of me, nor have you tried to discern, then proclaim to me that I care for no one but myself. Lady, if there's one thing I cannot stand above all else, its royal a** holes like you."
She stopped walking at her last statement, her feet planted firmly on the ground, and looked braced for whatever this Queen had to give. She didn't have a weapon, she had been kept in a very claustrophobic magically sealing prison for several weeks, and was not in the best of conditions...but her pride, honor, and frankly her sanity were at stake here. She had had just about enough of this so called "Elven Hospitality" and wanted them to take their long drawn out speeches of "fairness, equality, and open-mindedness" right up the tail pipe and straight to hell.
Hypocrytical bastards, everyone of them! Every Fey or Elf she'd met since the time of her detainment had been like this to a degree...and this woman was the Queen of this land and this frustrating epitome of psycho-social treatment.
"You want me to start being more pleasant? Fine. Then set the example, Elf, because I don't roll over for brutish wretches who see me as nothing but an object with a price tag."
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Posted: Sat Nov 03, 2007 6:51 pm
Gelir nearly doubled over in laughter, and as soon as she abated her wheezing, she huffed out, "I like you...you probably hate my guts but I like you, you're fascinating." She sat down on the grass by the road and took off her heavy platformed boots. Shrinking them with a subtle blend of air and earth magic, she shoved them into her bag. "If you ever want a true understanding of me, I'll be happy to oblige, just ask sometime, otherwise, we're a good ten minutes from the academy and then I'll show you you're room. Oh, and a quick clearing up, I never meant for you to be my brother's hussy, it was just a tease on your seriousness, he doesn't need 'that' kind of woman."
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Posted: Sun Nov 04, 2007 12:31 pm
Bored. That was one way to describe Elenath at the moment. Extremely extremely bored. People were yet arriving at the academy, but no one she liked and no one who liked her were among them. Her clan was extremely hated in the elven lands. Foxes. The word was usually uttered with contempt and loathing. Elenath Rusc, that name usually got the attention and glares from a few people. Notorious for her temper and thieving skills, there was an ongoing battle between herself, and one snot-nosed Miel. Seriously, that girl just made Elenath want to grind her teeth. Thala, even her first name sounded so sweet it hurt Elenath's teeth. But it was a blatant lie. Thala was a manipulative little slut who deserved nothing less than to be captured by vampires or fey! The only good thing about her was her pouch of gold she usually wore, which numerous times had been reported 'missing.' The thought made Elenath chuckle. Missing my a**. I stole it. Many a time.
Elenath herself seemed enamored with the wall paint, so concentrated was her gaze. She ignored everyone around her, sick of the insults and glares. One person though, a newbie by the looks of it, and the fourth daughter (out of five) of the low Butterfly clan, decided to point in her direction and whisper something, no doubtingly something insidious and one of the few who wasn't aware of her temper. This temper in fact had just sparked.
Elenath stood, her long slender legs showing from the slit of her skirts, making men stare, as she stood. She tossed her head, her fiery red hair glistening in the lamp light, and lifted her chin regally. Swaying her hips as she walked, making it seem a swagger of confidence, she smile disarmingly at the two low-ranked wenches. Looking down her nose at the two she tapped her teeth with a manicured finger. "Well hello Madame Butterfly. Such an esteemed daughter of the butterfly clan, it's a pleasure to meet you!" She grasped the daughter's hand, her palm over the others as a sign of formal greeting, though in reality it was squeezed tight, warning her that should she move her hand it would suddenly go missing, for Elenath would call insult, and her rank would protect her.
The butterfly squirmed uncomfortably, not moving her hand as Elenath's cold and darkly emerald green eyes pierced her where she stood, anger evident. The whole of the room was concentrated on the scene, but Elenath did not fear the looks, she was used to it. On the other hand, the butterfly was sweating massively.
"I just happened to notice your finger pointing in my general direction and couldn't help but also see you and your friend amicably chatting behind hidden hands." Her smile was cold and wide, the teeth white and glinting, it was more of a sneer, a smirk, than a smile. And the hidden innuendos of pain were all meshed into it. "I hope to see you again sometime soon. Hopefully your mother will have taught you your manners!" With that she leaned closer, her whisper soft and unheard for except the butterfly, "And your place. If I hear that you have talked about me, or if you look at me, or if I even see your finger pointed in my direction again, whatever, that piece of your body will go missing." She flounced into a complete 180 and walked off, a slight skip to her step, the picture of perfect innocence.
Now she was bored again, her temper sated. Well, why not explore, she still hadn't seen the whole of the school, and she needn't go to the induction ceremony. So, she decided, exploration it is.
Elenath now walked through a deserted hallway, the painting making the dimly lit hallway even shadier as she strolled along, her forest green dress dress clinging at the top but flowing from her long strides at the bottom. Her expression was curious, but only just so it still appeared bored.
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Posted: Sun Nov 04, 2007 6:55 pm
Playing with her? This b***h was playing with her! After all the hell she'd had to put up with in the past month and a half, she was joking around and whimsically trouncing on her fate like it was all some idle joke? Now her fury was at its peek, her hatred so deep and burning that it threatened to spill out of control completely and desecrate the whole of the area around her! This woman was acting like this was a daily occurrence, that one being's life was worth a laugh or two at the expense of their feelings and...and...
Fear. Yes, yes she was afraid. She'd never admit to it out loud, but since the devastation she'd witnessed of her unit, her family, and her beloved city...she had felt the wicked and life draining tendrils of fear gripping her soul like a demonic vice. She had never been afraid in her life...there was always a unit to stand by her, a family to protect her, and a nation to back her...and now...now she had nothing but herself. Tch...no, she didn't even have that anymore, for her life was no longer her own; even that had been sold away by the bitter irony of fate.
Upon the revelation of what drove her heated and enflamed exterior, she suddenly felt cold and numb. She was pulling herself inward and suddenly very tired and longing to be alone...as alone on the outside as she was within. Right now, she didn't care what happened next...she supposed this was still part of the grieving process or just her own way of dealing with the tremendous loss she had endured in such a short time. She was never one to feel pity for herself...but right now...she didn't know what else to call the feeling.
She dropped the insults, she dropped the defiance...she dropped everything...she wasn't broken, not yet...but she was very, very close to that point of no return. She couldn't let herself be broken, not after so much...and she feared more stalling would prompt her soul to take that final step into the abyss of complete submission. It was so hard to stay just barely hanging onto the edge...and she was so very tired.
"...Let us just move on and get this over with." She said, her voice low and utterly exhausted. There was no point in hiding it...this woman would see through pretense in a heartbeat anyway. "I have not eaten nor slept in many days, so at least give some way in light of my bowing to these petty weaknesses aloud. Even you must see the great effort it takes for one such as I to admit to such detriments?" The final was said with a bit more flare of sarcasm of hardness, but she didn't have the energy to carry it beyond a glare.
She wanted a secure place to be alone, redress her various injuries that were still in the process of healing, perhaps a hot bath, and some rest. Oh heaven...did she ever just wish for those few simple things in the darkness of this stage of her life? Maybe it was a lot to ask for, but she didn't care. For once she wanted SOMETHING to go her way.
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Posted: Sun Nov 04, 2007 8:12 pm
Gelir clicked her tongue thoughtfully against her top right molar. "Hn." She replied casually, little more than a grunt, perhaps understanding for once that words were far beyond their use at this moment.
Finally, the great castle that housed the academy loomed in front of them, and upon reaching their large, intricately designed doors, a servant opened them hastily and rushed aside, knowing his duty instantaneously. She activated a pulley system and motioned Kelbora to get on the ledge with her, before pushing another notch, after which the pulleys activated them and took them up five floors to the royal court and rooms. This floor comprised of a grand auditorium for meetings, a ball room, a lounge and two wings, one of which for Gelir and her immediate relatives and the other for lesser members of the court. Each bedroom comprised of one large room and bath for the protector of the noble, to allow them to intercept any attackers, and then a room behind theirs as the noble's room and bath and walk-in closet.
Gelir led Kelbora down the hallway her and her brothers and aunts lived, stopping only at the second to last door, the elven script reading 'Ithil Draug'. She opened the door quietly, revealing a spartan cherry wood and emerald linen decor. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, hot steam escaping it, presumably a bath had been prepared for Kelbora. Upon further inspection, the maid was in the middle of setting down a lunch platter with mixed meats, fruits and breads upon a bathside table. Allowing for Kelbora to immediately be accommodated.
"Well...looks like everything's set up. If you'd like to bathe and eat that is, a set of lounge robes is in this small pantry closet," Gelir demonstrated by opening the small door over the sink. "Your bed is made, and if you decide to meet Ithil, he's in the room that precedes the door behind your room. I hope everything is to your liking. You have my gratitude for being here, because whether you like it or not, this is a choice, a slim one, but a choice, you could commit suicide. However, you have not, and for this, I am grateful. Thank you again." And with that she left, leaving Kelbora to her thoughts. ----------------------------------- Acharn laid on his bed, surrounded in a crimson and ivory expanse of curtains, rugs, tapestries and linens. This lush prison in the farthest corner of the highest floor of the academy nearly choked him with each breath, the solemn figure in the chair beside his bed offered no consolation, though it was doubtful she even noticed, so lost in her own thoughts.
The silence in the room was staggering, and the awkward moments passed extremely slow, as if in a time stop, as both waited for the headmistress, a protector and mentor. The lights in the room distracted him for only a few minutes, the candlelight flitting in an almost animalistic manner, flitting and dancing. Then steps could be heard, and from what he could tell, they clicked as heels. The person was decidedly female. But not his protector, for she usually waltzed around in silence, though she moved with bounce in her step.
Curiosity won him over, a rarity in his life, however shot it had been so far, and waving off the Mornmiel, who was watching carefully, struck out of her trance-like state by the steps, and strolled to the door amiably. Opening the door slowly, Fael peered out into the dimly lit passageway, her eyes focusing on a red-haired elf making her way through the halls, a bored expression on her face.
“Who are you?”
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Posted: Mon Nov 05, 2007 8:16 am
Kelbora hardly noticed the trek between the short rest stop and the academy, however, upon being addressed in her new quarters, she immediately looked up at her surroundings and at Gelir Draug. It was a lavish, classy, and expensive holding quarters for one considered to be as lowly as a servant or slave...personally, it made her suspicious and skeptical about what this woman's intentions were for her. Was it just to guard her brother? With this large and extravagant of a display, was she expected to do more to earn her keep?
What was this woman up to?
Gelir's parting words though did make her frown a bit...suicide...sepaku...the taking of one's own life. Yes, she had seen others in her similar situation go through with such a sin...but not her. Her eldest brother always told her that she loved to do things the hard way or no way, and living was a hell of a lot harder then dying. No, if she died, she wanted it to be at the end of a enemy's sword, not her own. However tempting a escape it would be, she had no desire to pursue such a rout.
However uncertain her life was now, that one fact was for sure.
Kelbora had immediately sent the maid away, though she hesitated only a moment before Kelbora's glare send her hastening from the room and closing the door. Now that she was finally alone for the first time since the inn, she was able to take in a more detailed description of the room.
Rich and polished cherry wood with a green lining, the bed dressings were emerald green with golden trim and embroidery of leaves, and the lavish throw rugs on the hard wood floors were of the same fashion. It was not an unpleasant room, not like the inn, and green was indeed her favorite color. It was odd for someone not of Fey or pure Elven blood to enjoy the color of green, since Vampires were not so into herbology and nature as other beings...but then again she wasn't normal by any standards.
Finally deciding that standing in the middle of the room while a hot bath lay on the other side through a beautiful set of French doors seemed silly, Kelbora walked forward and began to remove her coat. The heavy material with hidden armor embedded in the fabric slumped to the floor with a loud thud, then she began to unzip the shoulder high gloves with strapped armor plating, next she sat down on a bench at the end of the bed and began to remove her boots. She unzipped and snapped the cloth shin covers that concealed the...well, once concealed the long daggers strapped behind the shinguards which were removed next. She unbelted each belt and unwound each strap as the tall zipper that started at her knee and ran down to her heel was revealed.
Kelbora hesitated a moment...normally she would have had to removed the second set of concealed knives on the inner workings of the boots, but they were gone with the rest of her equipment. She frowned and made a mental note to ask when she could have all of her weaponry back. After the fall from the tower, the Scouting party that found her apparently retrieved all of her weapons and kept them safe...but she hadn't seen them since she woke up nearly completely dressed in bandages and unarmed.
Shaking off the memory, Kelbora unzipped each boot and tossed them to the side where her coat lay. The pants were easier to remove as then were belted, zipped, and had a set of thigh sheaths for more knives to remove. She then untied the interlacing on the back of her top, un snapped the side belts to the piece, and unzipped the front...this was the first time she had been down to her under garments since she redressed herself for the first time since the battle at the Black Tower of Obsidean.
She felt cooler then she had under all of the leather, armor plates, and cloth...it was a nice change. As she removed the last of her clothing, leaving her in nothing but her own skin, she walked in front of the tall mirror on the way to the bathroom...and stopped. She looked at the mirror for a long moment before turning to it fully and examining herself in it's reflective surface.
...God...what had happened to her?
Her skin was much paler then it had been a month and some change ago, her hair was unkempt and dimmed with the filth of the prisons she'd been kept in, and her body...was riddled with freshly closed scars. Apparently her attire had been nearly ripped to ruin when the Scouting Party found her, but they had a seamstress on hand to repair the damage to the clothes...but there wasn't much the healer could do for her body.
She sported a new long and curved scar on her left forearm where she had tried a defensive maneuver against her opponent's blade, a long and jagged scar stretched across her stomach where...that demon had shoved his blade into her...a killing blow...yet here she stood. Her inner right thigh had a long and wide scar that stretched from the forethigh inward nearly to her groin...it must have been from slamming against rocks when the current rushed her away from where she'd impacted. She had various other scares all over her body, on her chest, arms, legs, abdomen, neck, and hands...most were from the fall and the river...but the majority of the ones on her upper body were made by that man's blade...
That b*****d...that traitor!
Her fists clenched tightly as she quickly turned heel away from the mirror and into the marble bathroom. It was as lovely and lavish as the bedroom, but right now she didn't care to admire the decor. Kelbora walked over to the large ceramic tub and quickly slipped into the steaming hot water. She didn't even give her body time to adjust before she submerged herself completely and her long and pooling golden hair covered the surface. When she reemerged she was able to sit in the tub comfortably with her chest and down beneath the surface. She tried to let go...to let her stress, frustrations, anger, and pain just melt away with the soothing water...and she relaxed.
A sweet scent caught her vague attention...some kind of oil added to the water for therapeutic purposes. She breathed it in with a sigh; lavender and vanilla...a relaxing fragrance to ease the mind and body with each vapor that entered her being. It was nice...such a nice and luxurious change from the maltreatment of the prisons she'd been forced to endure.
Kelbora settled herself back against the warmed side of the tub and finally closed her eyes to really soak in the benefits of the moment. She didn't know when she'd get another...so she was going to enjoy this while it lasted.
She nearly fell asleep...lost in the memories of gentle fingers running through her soft hair as she drifted away from reality...
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