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Black and Burned (Count!)

Started by Lion, April 26, 2009, 10:25:39 PM

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Lion

The course of events in his life had all fallen into place and Atharon sat in his study with a satisfied grin.  There was nothing that could go wrong now and he was satisfied that he was finally able to look in the mirror and not have to scorn the sight of himself.  Sure, he was nothing but a bachelor of twenty and was like any other young noble out there: wild, rambunctious, and rowdy.  Most would think, at the first sight of him that he was nothing but the sum of his years, that he had an eternity ahead of him to live, marry, and start a family.  But as he learned from experience, first assumptions were most always wrong.  He was more experienced than any twenty-year old had any right to be and he considered it a stroke of luck that his father suffered a severe heart attack that resulted in Atharon earning the title of Viscount.  Well, this was all in accordance with the fact that he was the last living heir of the Rhaedrel name.

But even if he did plan for things to turn out this way, he was sure that he would be content with the course of his life either way.  He was never one to look back to regret the actions of his past.  What was done, was done...  Instead, he looked to the future and wondered what other endeavors he might get himself into.  After four years of holding the title of Viscount in his firm and unyielding grasp, Atharon had lived like he wanted to and cared little for the social sanctions placed upon those of high esteem.  Of course the only result of this behavior was a most notorious behavior but, feeling no need to contest the truth, he would shrug off any care for he would declare, "At least I was being myself."

It was an open secret that Atharon had no taste for nobles, despite the fact that he was one.  He cared little for the ideals placed upon them and went as far as to be contemptuous of them.  As far as he was concerned they were nothing but inflated, delusional pigs that loved to wallow in their wealth.  He saw through their hypocrisies; watching through their feigned veneer of a smile when in fact they hated one another with cold blood.  And there was no person in the world he hated more than a hypocrite.  Their opinions, in turn, were not so high of him but that carried no toll with him.  So long as he was true to himself, to his family, he would dare to cut down their egos if it satisfied him.

But this was an unusual instance.  Atharon, as he sat down at his desk, the sunlight flowing gently down into the western horizon, flipped an envelope in his hands that was addressed to him.  The wax seal had been broken long before he actually sat down to read the letter, but he was confused by what he held in his hands, nevertheless.  As he sat and read, sorting out the mysteries of the words that flowed in a wondrous red ink, he said aloud, "'Due to the recent arrangement of marriage between young Lord Rynd Therabel and young Lady Seline Marlix, the family Therabel hereby invited all nobles of the High court to attend the celebration of union between the two families.'"  He laughed in contempt at this first line.  Arrangement?  Thank the heathens his father died.  He wouldn't know what he would do if he had been arranged to be married and now that he had the title to himself he was free to choose his own bride, should he decide to marry.

Still he read on, "'You, Lord Atharon Madon Rhaedrel, are invited to attend as a personal guest of the family Therabel.  The date is of three days from now—' Hm, I suppose that means tomorrow '—and the event commences precisely at seven o'clock and ends at midnight.  Please bring...'"  The details faded from there as Atharon considered the content of the letter.  An invitation?  For him?  The mere idea itself seemed impossibility but then he reconsidered the reputation of the Therabel family.  They were famous for their generosity and charitable parties for all to attend, even commoners.  From what he knew the Therabels were one of the few honest-to-heart-and-soul families that were left and one that he genuinely respected.

He flipped the letter in his hands for a while before placing it back into its envelope.  After a while of deep thought and reflection, he concluded that he would go.  As ever one to look to the future and the now, he thought of who might be there (surely the older generation would be unhappy to see him there) and he laughed at the idea of cutting down anyone that challenged him.  The Therabel estate was not too far from here, an hour by horseback and an hour and a half by carriage. Yes, perhaps he would go.  He might even have a good time.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

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"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anonymous

There was a very big part of her that did not want to go. She sat in the study, wearing a simple black over coat and pants, looking balefully at the letter on the small table before her. It had been opened some time ago and its contents brought a light frown to her otherwise stoic expression. That frown had kept the slaves and servants away. Considering Senoniya's visage hadn't crack into any expression since her Mother's death, it did not bode well the first sign she could react to the world around her was a frown. Servants had been fired, new ones put in place, slaves sold to make space for younger, different ones... everything that seemed to remind her of her parents had been systematically reset to suit her, destroyed, or archived in the catacombs. She'd been fond of her parents, and now that they were gone... she didn't want reminded of that loss. It made her feel weak... out of control. Clearly she had no power over life and death, but that didn't mean she wanted to know that her parents had been stricken ill. They'd not died of old age, which would've been acceptable... but something else. There was a brief, dark month when Senoniya thought the illness might transfer. Obviously it didn't, her father had been dead for five months, her mother having passed away a mere month ago, and Senoniya was fine.

A month of transferring entitlement, clearing out the Estate, declining invitations for dinner, plays, meetings... a month of closing herself off as though mere denial could change it all. It had seemed, for a moment, like everyone had taken the hint. The Duchess wanted to be left alone. But then this letter arrived, and with it the realization that she had been behaving... childishly. The world continued to plot and plan while she'd content herself behind familiar walls. There was a game being played, one she'd only witnessed her parents role in, that she was to now fill. Court, public, and peers were waiting to see her.

So be it.

Senoniya had been staring longer than she'd realized. Her attendant, a young thing with short, bland brown hair and an innocent face that Senoniya could read like a book stood off to the side. The Duchess had bought her because she was so easy to read. There would be no secrets. The girl who was barely 8 was holding a tray of what appeared to be lunch. The dinner was at seven this evening. Eating now would mean she'd not be inclined to eat much there. A subtle wave of her hand and the young girl Senoniya had named Fawn for her timid personality and the almost skittish way she'd behaved when Senoniya had bought her place the tray next to the letter. Before the girl could turn to go, Senoniya spoke, "Draw up a bath and arrange for my travel to the Therabel Estate. I wish it arrive on time. At 7." Because the girl couldn't possibly know what all that would entail, Senoniya flicked her gaze to the letter. "Take it with you so you don't mess up my order." Fawn could show it to whomever would be needed, and would know how to respond. The young girl slid toward the letter, watching Senoniya like the Duchess might bite. For the brief moment it took Fawn to take the letter and back away, Senoniya stared at her, deep blue eyes reflecting and revealing nothing. Whether she was pleased with the timid deference or not, one could not say.

Two and a half hours travel time. This was going to be laborious, annoying... but Senoniya needed to look good. Let the rest of the world know she was well and alive. And that she fully intended on picking up where her parents had left off, and join the game.

Lion

"Back!  I said back, you bastard!" Atharon shouted to the servant with his hand raised.  He had pushed him back only a short distance so that the back of his hand would still reach the face that shook in fear.  The hand that threatened was poised in a bear paw formation with the joints of his fingers bent beneath the rest.  As much as the threat of being hit would be enough to put the boy back in his place, Atharon knew that holding back would signal to the other slaves that it was alright to be disobedient..  He had to show him who was the master.  And without a second thought, his clenched hand swung across, connecting with the face of the slave, striking him clear across the child's jaws.  Now, he wasn't one to strike a slave, but it was a necessary evil.

The boy had lost his balance from the force of the blow and fell to his knees.  He tried to pretend that this was what he was trying to do all along and folded over as if bowing.  "I'm sorry, my lord.  I'll not do it again. P-please forgive me," he managed to utter through tears.  "Please don't strike me again."  

Atharon looked down on him with a morbid mixture of contempt and sympathy.  "Get up."  He did.  "Don't grovel on the ground.  It makes you look like a rat scavenging for survival.  My slaves won't be rats.  But you will obey!  I'll not tolerate your insolence and if you have trouble with that you're as useless as the rest of them.  You, Lothar, get this one to his room and make sure he 'learns his lesson'."  The servant nearest him nodded a small, 'Yes, milord,' before going off in the indicated direction, yanking the slave after him.

"Incompetence...." Atharon muttered with sheer annoyance.  "I don't know if I can stand to rule this house any longer with slaves like him."  Shaking his head he stepped into the sleek black carriage that was prepared for him this afternoon to head to the Therabel estate.  He slumped into the plush, leather-bound seating, pulling the tails of his frock coat out from under him as the door closed and he felt the carriage being pulled into motion.  Now, under normal conditions, he wouldn't have minded to take one of his horses to his destination but he felt travel in a closed carriage would give him a mysterious air to him.  After all, there was no point in being predictable.

The vehicle pressed on into the maw of night, embraced by the darkness of the woods all around and drawn to the branches that reached out like hands.  The outlook of the evening drawing in, the moon shining like a flaming candle wick, didn't seem very promising.  Had he any trace of the superstitions of his father he would have had plenty of reason to believe that this night was ominous.  But Atharon was more attracted to the belief of revelry as opposed to the chance of trouble.  Of course, trouble can occur at any given moment but he liked to believe that parties were for good times only.  And that's where he was going.

Atharon had risen very early that morning, ordering his main servant Travim to start the normal housing duties while another drew his bath and prepared his clothes for the outing.  After the bathing part was done, of which he often did several times in a single day just because he could, he donned the handsome midnight velvet coat that slung over his broad shoulders and matched the black silk waistcoat that embraced his form.  In all he was decked out in clothes decadent of his station and more.  Even some Earls couldn't afford clothes as beautiful as his.  And that, in itself was something to be proud of.

He must have fallen asleep or something because the next thing he knew they were pulling up the driveway of the Therabel estate, a respectable manor with none of the archaic defenses as would be seen on most estates.  While looking up at it closely, he supposed that was because the Therabels were such an open and kind people, they felt that no one would dare attack someone so utterly immaculate in heart.  Well, they certainly have guts, that's for sure.  If nothing else... he thought with a grin.

With that he climbed down from the carriage's steps and strode forward into the manor.  Already the celebration had begun, as he was a half-hour late, and dancers were swirling on the floor.  He surveyed the scene with speculative eyes, intent on seeking out Lord Therabel senior to thank him personally on the invitation.  However, as he ignored the glances of older woman who whispered furiously when he passed them, he was surprised to find his eyes fall on a particularly stunning black-haired woman standing on the far side of the room.  Alone.  And little did he know just how long he was staring.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anonymous

Senoniya stared in the full length mirror as Fawn pulled the lacings of the gown tight. Even so, if left a lot of her back exposed. The laces were the only thing that crossed, leaving her pale skin to be viewable through a myriad of black cord. The front of the gown was tastefully cut, leaving a fair amount of her chest exposed, but not to seem needy or whorish. The silver necklace, delicate with a simple diamond shaped like a drop of rain hung close to the neck line. It was clearly supposed to catch the eye.

She sucked in a sharp breath as the young girl grunted from the effort of drawing the gown tight. Senoniya had inherited her Mother's slender figure. It meant there may be complications when, not if, she had children. Her Mother had some difficulty, but not a history of miscarriages or still borns. Complications could be dealt with. Failures would not be. Strange that Senoniya was thinking about such things now as she stared at her reflection. Though she was only 18, rather young to be Duchess, there were still things she needed to do. Being single only served to remind her she needed to marry. Which meant submersing herself back into the courtship game. Maybe she'd find someone this evening that would take an interest. There were some who had been too offended by her blunt refusal, they wouldn't try again. Thankfully.

Another sharp tug brought Senoniya back to the moment, peering at the girl in the mirror. Fawn was fleshier than Senoniya, nowhere near as tall, but her strength was proving to be adequate for the gown. The silk was stretched tight over the top half of her, smooth and almost shiny. It remained flush to her skin until it reached her hips, where the fabric fell loosely. It was a simple cut. Elegant in that it kept the focus on the wearer, not distracting with frills and lace. Given that her hair was as dark as the silk, and her skin a soft shade of white, it brought to focus her slender jaw, graceful neck, and starting blue eyes. Senoniya didn't spend too much time outside. Enough to have tanned herself minutely. Not enough to make much of a difference. To her, she appeared professional. Mature. What some others might construe as cold. Detached. Either was ok with her.

Senoniya had bothered to do little with her hair, except leave it down. The inky locks were long, past her waist line, and as straight and shimmering as the silk she wore. Her bangs were a little long, enough so that they could get in her eyes. That didn't bother her. She liked her hair long.

"Is the carriage ready?" Senoniya asked softly, still critiquing and watching herself.

"Yes, Duchess. It awaits your pleasure," the girl murmured. At least she remembered to be respectful at all times. With the dress in place, tight enough to be smooth but not so tight as to create unseemly lines along her back, Senoniya couldn't justify putting it off any more. Fawn had redone the lacings three times, to no fault of her own. Senoniya was just... nervous? No reason to be...  "My book has been taken out?" she asked then, going through the mental list of things she needed to take with her. Two hours was going to be quite a ride... The stiffness of the gown wasn't a problem. Her Mother had laced her up in corsets when she was young to teach her proper posture. Now, it was second nature.

Fawn nodded, then realized she did so before speaking quickly, "I brought it out myself, Duchess."

Senoniya nodded then turned away from the mirror. "Good," she said absently as she made her way from her room and toward the hall. "I want all the chores and cleaning done before I come back. It will be silent when I arrive, so I may rest in peace." The young girl's eyes widened some. Senoniya knew it made Fawn uncomfortable to delegate responsibilities. She also feared the lash, which Senoniya would divvy out if her instructions were not followed. The Duchess herself never struck her slaves. She had a man for that.

The ride to the manor was as long and annoying as she'd thought it would be, but at least she had a book to read. It made the time pass by faster, even made her forget, for a moment, that she was actually going somewhere. So when the carriage came to a stop, she blinked back to reality and peered out of the small window. Evening had settled, leaving the outside cast in a twilight glow. Which meant it was cooler when she stepped from the carriage. Senoniya paused to run a hand through her hair, brush her bangs back, before she was escorted to the doors of the manor, and inside. If she had to guess, Senoniya would say she was about on time. Perfect. She'd hate to have to scold the driver because she'd been late.

Senoniya's attendance was then announced, causing her to momentarily be the focus of the room. Her expression was stoic, her heart beat normal... She was terribly calm. Which to her was an affirmation she was finally ready to be here. She excused the well dressed man who had led her here and made her way through those that had arrived before hand to speak to Lord and Lady Therabel. Decorum dictate she address them first, and congratulate them. Which she did with the ghost of a smile and softly spoken pleasantries. When the Lord asked her for a dance, Senoniya found it in her good grace to accept.

What she had not been expecting was the plethora of those who asked afterward. Senoniya wanted to recoil from the questioners, but she needed to make a point. She was ready to be... social... which meant she would need to be seen as such. The next three men to ask, Senoniya humored. The first one was a fluent dancer, polite, but spent too much time staring at her diamond that hung from her neck... or what she had the grace to say was her diamond. The second man spoke too much about things she didn't care. Because he was so focused on wowing her with the latest gossip, he missed the beat and actually stepped on her foot. That had brought an abrupt end to that, though she'd smiled and assured him she was fine. No way in hell would she be as close to him again. The third one had nothing overtly wrong with him, but after the first two, she wasn't in the mood to be very forgiving. Though she smiled some, and seemed to enjoy herself, inside Senoniya was brooding over the annoying was his brown hair fell into dull green eyes, and that his lips were too large. Nitpicking at his appearance to appease the throb in her foot where she'd been stepped on.

After that dance, she politely excused herself from the next and sought out some empty part of the room, close to the wall. Just for a breather. Her attention shifted about the room, looking to see who had arrived since she'd last looked. Senoniya's gaze was snagged by someone though... a man who seemed to be looking at her from across the room. Though there were some dancers that momentarily broke the line of sight, Senoniya did not look away. Only after a breath or so did she smile, just a hint of the corner of her lips tilting up, before she looked away.

Lion

A small breath escaped his throat that resembled something of a scoff.  Not at the woman his eyes trailed after but the buffoons he saw attempt to dance with her.  They were more like circus clowns than members of the nobility and he was almost enjoying himself too much at the sight of this that he would've forgotten the lady.  But the truth was his eyes were more locked on her than the fools who fumbled over such a simple thing as dancing.  They were entertaining, but nothing more.  Nothing could break his stalwart concentration.

With his eyes locked on her visage, he took notice of her attempt to be placid, stoic and look the part of an up and coming lady all the while he could sense the frustration beneath the mask.  He almost felt a shiver when she failed to suppress her anguish in the fires of her majestic blue eyes.  The first man, who seemed the best all three, annoyingly occupied himself with staring at what was so obviously her chest (and he wouldn't blush to say so).  The second was a freak from the start.  Not only was he not even an adequate dancer but his own garb must have been the tackiest ensemble in the entire room.  No doubt an Earl he thought with a smug grin growing on his face.  And the third....well he was just a joke and Atharon wouldn't call him a noble even if his life depended on it.

Soon after the freak show commenced and ended, Atharon studied her with his ever methodical mind, seeing through her guise as if she was wearing nothing.  Hm!  Well that was a thought and not one he didn't consider.  Right now his mind was rampant with thoughts that would no doubt make a priest blush.  Indeed now his eyes trailed on her form and the grin widened as he took a liking to what met his sights.  The dress complimented every part of her and for a moment he thought surely that every man in here would want to snatch a chance to be close to this rare prize.  But if only they knew what lay hidden beneath her gracious smile.  He laughed inside at the thought of how they would react if they knew.

Atharon lowered his gaze as he leaned negligently against a pillar when she finally took notice of him.  For a moment, he had every reason to believe that he had been gazing at her for hours.  But his eyes did speak of a man who was shocked by her behavior or just wanted another dance.  His mind was not in any mood for just a dance.  No, swirling in his piercing gray eyes was something more...sinister.  He looked at her like a wolf who just spotted his prey and his devilish grin may as well have sprouted fangs to add to the image.

She turned away after only the faintest of grins.  Thankfully, he expected as much since he wouldn't have reacted much differently had he found her staring at him.  But there was something different in her look than how he noticed she peered at the other men, if only for the briefest of seconds.  A burst of charisma swelled within the wall of his chest and he disappeared in the crowd as he made his way over to her like a serpent.  His long hair flowed behind him like a wonderful cape, braided in the front so that it stayed out of his face and it took only a few long strides before he reached the lady he'd been watching for the entire duration he'd been here.

When he spotted her, his heartbeat threatened his ribcage, but he persisted nonetheless toward her.  Approaching from behind, Atharon stood tall and moved around to her front as he said with a humored grin, "'Tis not so gracious for a lady to award a gentleman a smile and not introduce herself."




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anonymous

After her attention had slipped from the man across the room, Senoniya took a moment to collect herself and fix her expression so she wouldn't appear an annoyed as she was. The odds of those three being  the only ones to approach her was slim. Which meant that she had to be prepared for more... ignorance. She briefly considered remaining single. The idea was laughable, since the Verot'dess name would need a heir, and she'd be damned before producing some bastard of a child born out of wedlock. If Senoniya wanted to be remembered, producing a child while not married would do the opposite. Her name would be stricken from the Verot'dess records. Never mind the fact the child would hold no claim, which meant it'd go to a sibling. All this proved that she had to suck it up... and wait until someone suitable showed up. She was only 18. Senoniya didn't have to fret too much now. She had a couple years before it became... important. While waiting so long wouldn't look too good, neither could anyone readily fault her or say she was too picky. Even if she was.

With all those thoughts and more swirling around, she turned back to the dance floor with the intent to, well, dance... until the man she'd caught from across the room moved into her field of view. Her genuine smile had been prompted by little short of she found him very attractive. Even from across the room she'd knew he'd be tall, but this...  Senoniya looked up at him, taking the time study him. His hair was as dark as her own, her skin a shade lighter than hers... but where she had stunningly vibrant blue eyes, he had a gray that caught her attention. While Senoniya had never truly felt motivated by lust, here was certainly a man she could feel just... a fraction of whim about. He was dark, tall, and there was something in the way he held himself that let Senoniya know she was dealing with someone who was used to getting what they wanted.

"'Tis not so gracious for a lady to award a gentleman a smile and not introduce herself," she heard him say. This made the ghost of Senoniya's smile return. If he was a witty, and assertive, as he looked, then Senoniya couldn't care less about anyone else in the room.

"I'll forgive you for not knowing the Duchess Verot'dess when you see her," she said, and while most would have thought she was scolding... Senoniya was just... teasing. In her own darkly colored fashion. Most never grasped that aspect of her. And it was a way for Senoniya to judge them. "You may call me Senoniya. And it is only polite you tell me yours, as it was you looking at me to begin with." His response would tell her if his personality matched his looks. She found herself vaguely hoping they would. She couldn't stand any more of the bland nobles that had been insisting on her attention.

Lion

The man who stood before her and greeted her with a grin was a powerful bodied man, one whose own elfish ears could not be mistaken.  Thee was a certain prowess in his stance, one that surely said he was a force to be reckoned with should he be opposed.  And if opposed there was a suspicious cunning burning in his eyes that let on little information just as to when vengeance would strike.  Atharon was as able-bodied as most young bachelors his age were except for the fact that he was far more aware of his abilities than those others were.  If presented with an opportunity that no one else dared to take, it wouldn't be above him to seize that opportunity, beat it, twist it, and turn it into something that would thusly become advantageous for him.  This moment, here and now, was what he would consider one such opportunity.
 
He was by far as cleanest-cut as they came.  His own outfit, when compared to the livery of most of the other young lords that caroused the ballroom looking for prey, was far simpler yet equally elegant.  The clothing that embraced his torso like a jealous lover consisted of the waistcoat and a simple white clean-cut shirt.  It had none of the fanciful ruffles that had become popular during this time and certainly no cravat to block the view of his neck.  The latter was removed for both practical and vain reasons of which to allow him to both breathe easier and to allow an adequate view of his neck.  While the clothing of the others would claim they breathed decadence, Atharon wouldn't hesitate to counter that that's exactly what they lacked thereof.
 
Atharon's grin remained the same but swelled in pleasure at the sight of her own.  When she spoke, he just about quivered from head to toe.  To any other her tone may have been construed as a sign of pure annoyance and contempt, but as ever the observationist, he took her tone only as another way of understanding her.  "Ah, so you're the Duchess Verot'dess?  I know the name; it simply breathes venom," Atharon replied without so much as a ripple on his wan face.  There wasn't any sign in his voice that he was putt off by her answer in any manner.  Rather quite the opposite.
 
When she introduced herself, he would have mentally slapped himself for not beating her to the punch.  However, he merely chided himself with a grin and, while flashing animal-white teeth, said, "Excuse me, milady.  I am Viscount Atharon Rhaedrel.  Perhaps you've heard the name, though it's no where near as famous as the family Verot'dess."  With that, he bowed with an extravagant grace one might not have expected from someone his size.  And as he rose, he lightly grasped her hand and raised it to his lips.  "You have a lovely name, Senoniya."  He lingered a little on her name, enjoying the feel of it on his tongue, before he pressed his lips to her hand and released her accordingly.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anonymous

There was something about him. Senoniya couldn't figure it out, not yet, but she suspected he was as... opportunistic... as she was. Like sensing a kindred spirit, the Duchess could not say how she knew, only that she would've bet her life on it. And she was not a betting woman. Even better though, was that it appeared their tastes ran the same by way of style. Neither had felt the need to overly decorate themselves and thus detract from the simplistic beauty and perfection that they were. Elegant, simple, straightforward... It drew more focus on the wearer, and that was important to her. It meant he was well aware he was a better representative of himself than the frills and lace could ever be.

"Ah, so you're the Duchess Verot'dess? I know the name; it simply breathes venom." If it had been someone she had a lower opinion of, Senoniya would think such a thing was an insult. But no, he seemed a man who could appreciate the regal complexities of venom, and thus her name. To Senoniya, it was a fairly flattering thing to say. She even graced him with a small bow of her head, accepting the compliment with a pleased feeling. Her expression had not changed, but the smile at least was... real. Not much a difference unless you looked in her eyes, and only if you knew what you were looking for.

His grin snagged Senoniya's attention. She decided then that she liked it, though she didn't delve into the reasons why. "Excuse me, milady. I am Viscount Atharon Rhaedrel. Perhaps you've heard the name, though it's nowhere near as famous as the family Verot'dess." Senoniya recognized the name, though she could not say from where. As a child, she'd spent considerable time being taught the names of those she might have to interact with. And while Ophelia specialized in the other families and their histories, studying together had been something for the two sisters to do. Made retention easier as well. She watched his bow with a critical eye. Senoniya could read someone rather well in the way they moved, whether they did it 'correctly', or if they had some sort of mess up. Whether the action was natural, or whether it was awkward. Her speculation was cut short when he took her hand, bringing her attention sharply to that contact. Rightfully so, or else she might've missed what was said then. "You have a lovely name, Senoniya."

The Duchess had never before felt the rush of her pulse until now, with the way he said her name. There was something terribly... fascinating... in the sound of her name from his lips. Could this be what some of the other women were talking about when they spoke of want? Of lust? Senoniya had never met someone she'd –liked-, that invoked more than distaste or pity. The men she'd met before now all seemed flat, like she could breath and they would fall over. They had no sustenance to keep them upright if she were to try and knock them over. A woman should not feel like she could destroy her mate. A partner should be an equal, someone who could be just as much of a Hunter as she was. Senoniya had started to believe that they simply didn't exist. That her Father had been the last of the sort whom could manage the Verot'dess name.

She wasn't in love with this man, that was preposterous. But there was a want of him, a desire to see if he was immune to the Verot'dess venom, of if he would fold as all the others before hand. A willfulness in Senoniya that wanted to see what she could learn of him. "How kind of you to say," she breathed softly. While most would have thought that she was disinterested it the lack of depth in her tone, quite the opposite was true. She was, for lack of a better word, thrilled. Excited. And where most would be yammering on it some higher pitch, Senoniya's excitement was conveyed in a breathy whisper. Her eyes remained on his until there was a new song starting, the sound momentarily pulling her from their very secular moment to realize she was, well, she was still at the party. This song was slower, of a court dance she'd known as a little girl. A single, slender brow rose slightly as though to ask, 'Are you going to ask me to dance?'

Lion

The Rhaedrels were not common through out the kingdom and most never rose above the station of Viscount for reasons of modesty.  And though the line was primarily human with some traces of Elven blood, Atharon was a rare anomaly amongst his ancestors.  Though his family had played little part in the open-book history of Serendipity, it was not so common knowledge that their role was primarily behind the scenes.  There was a common energy in them that could not be found in any other, at least not at incredible levels.  And it seemed that of all Atharon's ancestors, he'd inherited the most of that energy (not that it helped his grandfather had been a full-blooded demon, thus giving him a wicked-streak).

Between them now, he could almost taste the electricity.  And, if he could, he had no doubt that it would taste as sweet as the semblance of her body.  There was a certain energy here now, the same kind that burned in his blood and drove him to take the title for himself.  A...determined...energy.  He wasn't sure what he should thank for having sensed this, his own keen eye or his mental powers.  Either way, it was an awesome feeling to know that there was a woman just as...calculating as he.

And he was sure he found her just as stirred as he when he looked into her eyes once more.  There was a mystified difference there that he didn't think he found before.  Something akin to...interest.  But what he read was only vague and may as well have been smoke in mirrors for all he knew about the lady.  Still, he was ever the ambitious and persistent spirit and no doubt wouldn't care if she remembered his name so long as he remembered hers.  And he would never forget as beautiful a name as Senoniya.  It had a special air about it, made him wonder about her and why she was called that.  Maybe it was by mere coincidence or there was some special reason.  The taste of the syllables on his tongue...  He had to suppress another shiver at the thought.

She certainly was different than most other women he met and though they only spoke a few words as of yet, he was sure she wasn't bound to become another blushing simpleton.  Most women he met were as flirtatious as he, but they masked their true motives beneath a guise of soft-spokenness, blushes, and fluttering eyelashes.  While he would award their attempts to foil the plans of a bachelor's attempts at remaining single, he was not so foolish as to fall for such a plan.  It only made him look down upon them.  But then again, it wasn't like he planned on marrying anytime soon but there was hardly a girl he felt could rise to the challenge of having him as a husband.  That was why this particular woman seemed to strike a rather powerful chord in him.

Atharon smiled in response to her answer.  "The pleasure is all mine."  And he truly meant it.  And for a time the thought things were going to get dead silent that was until he was taken aback in feigned incredulousness, "Well, aren't you going to dance with me?  Now, don't get me wrong, I commend the fools who attempted to dance with you.  But I think you deserve a partner who's of a higher caliber.  Would you join me on the dance floor?"  He held out a hand invitingly and looked at her with an eternal patience.




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"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anonymous

Senoniya was used to someone being interested in her, she was sure he was. A man did not often approach a woman unless he was, so there was little question as to –why- he was here. But now the focus went to what did she do now that he was? No date of hers had ever gone beyond dinner, where she'd sat across and listened to some man ramble about his qualifications. But Atharon didn't seem to feel the need to explain himself, and had assumed that he was good enough. Confidence was a huge attraction for her. How one held themselves was vital to any political figure, but it was a requirement for anyone that Senoniya took an interest in. She couldn't be seen with someone who talked too much, or someone who apologize, or felt the need to explain themselves... When Senoniya had been little, she'd assumed most men were like her Father. That she would grow up and find someone perfectly suited to the Verot'dess name. That it would be easy.

How wrong she'd been.

Which had prompted her to ask for an explanation. Her Mother had simply said not everyone was made to be a Verot'dess, though the woman had sympathized with her daughter as much as she ever did. Despite her annoyance, Senoniya had continued to search. The death of her parents had been more of an excuse to get out of that mess than any real need for respite. Given that, and seeing Atharon now, Senoniya was very pleased she'd opted to come to this silly thing.

The Duchess was terribly pleased when he then said, "Well, aren't you going to dance with me? Now, don't get me wrong, I commend the fools who attempted to dance with you. But I think you deserve a partner who's of a higher caliber. Would you join me on the dance floor?" Part of her was waiting for the moment when she would catch a glimpse of some sort of weakness... something that would tarnish how perfect he was to her. Why? Because she was trying to be realistic. More than that, why did he not have a spouse... or a lover? Or maybe he did.... Now that was something to consider. What was the motive behind this then if he had someone, or what could be the reason he did not...? Senoniya placed her hand in his, studying him as though all the answers were there... but written in an entirely different language.

She moved close to him, as the court dance dictated, and easily fell into the steps she'd been taught since she was little. There were several well know dances, all of them depending on a competent partner. All of them Senoniya knew, and could do in her sleep. This was a faucet of public decorum her parents went to great lengths to ensure she would know. It would be terribly embarrassing for a Duchess if she could not dance. The others around them had likewise paired up for this slower song. With even a brief look around, Senoniya could pin point who had done it before, who knew the dance well enough to do it satisfactorily, and who would have been better off staying out of this dance.

Lion

It wasn't quite that he wanted to remain single forever.  Atharon had every intention of marrying when he would become old and gray.  That was what most people wanted out of a relationship right?  Someone to grow old with?  But it was in his best interest to say young in his time; he would leave the process of growing old the old men.  Surely there was plenty of time left to live life as he wanted to, unchained and free whilst romancing what hearts he wanted.  There was no question as to how Atharon planned out his fate: Yes, he would marry but there was no way in the hottest of hells he was going to be pressured into doing something he didn't want to do.

And that left the matter open as to just who would receive a ring from him as a token of his devotion.  That remained to be seen.  Even he, with all his mental power, could not predict the future...yet. Despite this however, Atharon knew the type of woman he wanted: One who shared his characteristics and was like him in more ways than one.  He wanted a woman who wouldn't wilt in his presence and would stand strong against him if she felt it was right.  He didn't want a silly girl like so many lords' daughters turned out to be. Sure they were excellent speakers and well versed in all the studies a proper lady ought to be versed in, but there was little substance beyond that.  They didn't do much more than...amuse him.  As far as he was concerned, they were flighty and would jump at any chance to catch a husband.  They were, in a sense, a bit like porcelain dolls: They were nice to look at, pretty as a flower, but had no function beyond serving as a decoration.

So the only choice he felt was suitable was to keep his status marked 'single'.  Though many a time in the past, he'd had his share of interests, he never found one that could hold his attention for more than a week.  Atharon held too high of a standard for just any woman to walk in and share a bed with him.  Like the girls that sought his promises, lovers were merely an amusement that served to occupy the emptiness of time.  No, he wasn't the type to frequent brothels, but he did attend a few on the occasions when his midnight flames were far too much for him to handle.  In summary, Atharon was an experienced lover, not too much beyond his years but enough to silence the yearnings of as passionate a soul as he.

And when he was sated, he was quite calm.  Almost like he was now.  There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Senoniya would refuse his hand.  He picked up on the inclination that she wanted to go on the marble floors once more.  Though there was an instant where he considered she might be tired of dancing, he was overwhelmed by the fact that he just didn't care.  He didn't care if she was tired (she obviously wasn't since she accepted his hand) and he sure as hell didn't give a damn about the old crones that sat in a corner and gossiped madly about the fact that Lord Atharon Rhaedrel would yet again spoil the innocence of yet another maiden.  The maiden in their discussion, of course, was most likely Senoniya; their discussion couldn't get past the sharpness of his ears.

Out on the dance floor, Atharon moved along with the energy of his bloodline, fleeting with the crying fury of the stringed instruments.  Though the current song was much slower now, there as no denying the amount of energy and passion that went into the performance.  He didn't pay any attention to the other dancers for he felt it would be much better to be in the moment with her.  Though his eyes indeed surveyed her form, and he was very pleased with what he found, he kept his eyes focused on her face, taking his time to embed into his memory the stunning oceans of her eyes, the curve of her nose, and the slight of her mouth.  He held her professionally, his legs moving with all he expertness of a ballroom veteran.  Of all his training to become a gentleman, mastering the art of dance was his most favorite activity.

As they twirled along the floor to the court song, Atharon flashed his teeth once more at her and gently squeezed the side he held her at as he allowed the music to flow through him.  His legs moved with the divinity of a spirit, as if without volition.  "You must know this song very well, Senoniya," he said as he spun her.  "You dance like I thought you would.  Should I hope to presume that you live nearby?  Or would I be overstepping my boundaries?"




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"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anonymous

There were several very important things to be considered now, as Senoniya danced with him. While there was very much an initial attraction here, it meant that he was someone worth investigating. She was not the sort to get involved with anything unless she knew all the details. Since she didn't know anything of his history, of who he had been with before and what that entailed, she couldn't very well commit any part of herself. There was a darker part of Senoniya that suggested he may be playing –her-, and for all intents and purposes merely wanted something more to gloat over. The Duchess was untouched when it came to the more intimate things one did with the opposite sex. She didn't submit to someone she wasn't attracted to, and she'd yet to be attracted to anyone. Atharon radiated potential, but she'd not bed him based on that. Not to mention there was a very real concern over becoming pregnant while not married. The last thing Senoniya needed was that. She'd disgrace herself. So while she was very much enjoying his attention, she still kept herself on guard.

On the matter of the dance floor, Senoniya was very relieved. There was no stumbling, no pauses in steps to indicate he wasn't sure of what came next. Rather, he moved with a fluidity that complimented Senoniya's grace. Where his steps were passionate, hers were perfect. Each step well placed with a confidence that she –knew- the dance. Each movement was controlled, elegant, and just right. And while her initial attention had been on the other dancers, it quickly narrowed to focus on Atharon. There was much about him that Senoniya approved of, such as the angle of his jaw, his gray eyes so very different from what she'd ever seen, and his hair that was as dark as her own. Physically, she could think of no other match for her that would be so perfect. If not for other considerations to be made, such as her status, then Senoniya would've willingly let him be the first to have her. However... personality was just as important as physical characteristics.

There was a jump in her pulse when his hand squeezed her side a little. She'd liked the pressure, though gave no outward sign she did. Better to figure out his motives before acting too thrilled. Senoniya was pleased with the compliment of her dancing prowess. However, he surprised her by asking if she lived close by. She contemplated for a breath, stepping closer to him as the dance dictated. Rather than hovering close, Senoniya's body actually pressed to his, using that opportunity to whisper softly, "Two hours carriage ride away." The next step carried her out of whisper shot with what could be called a sly smile. Most would miss the hint of it, but she believed Atharon wouldn't. See what he would make of that.

Lion

There was a rage now.  Not in the bodies that swept along the marble in their swirling coats and gowns and high-heeled footwear, but in the melody that carried them along.  The tendrils of music drowned out any conversation that could be heard nearby and asserted it's place amongst them with the ravaged cry of the violin, or what appeared to be such an ancient instrument.  The bow raped against the strings with a savagery found in only the wild men of the mountains to the south and still it was something that Atharon allowed to channel through him.  His hands kept their place but while his heart proceeded to pound right out of his chest, he was all the more aware of her; she was exceedingly close and still it seemed like she was miles away.

The electricity of the moment positively rang though him.  A wild beast would have been jealous at the energy he currently possessed.  However, he was quite content to use said energy on the dance and the conversation between them as opposed to tearing open an animal.  The half-inch heels of his boots and high instep gave him a significant advantage over most of the other dancers on the floor anyway.  But because other people's opinions really had little to no toll on him, Atharon felt he was free to do what he wanted.  After all, when one had the courage to live without reputation, their opportunities were limitless.

Atharon wasn't one to shy away from any moment (though he had his decencies, even if they were few and far between) and took the moment she pressed herself against him like a blow to the psyche.  He was liking her more already.  He didn't need words to convey what she thought of him but it was extremely obvious that there was still to few details to make a commitment on either side.  Well, he considered for her at least.  They knew each other for what...the whole of ten minutes.  But even so, he knew the in the chasm of his mind that he wasn't going to be interested in another woman.  He'd found this rare jewel this evening and it had his name written all over it in invisible ink.

He chuckled lightly at her response, amused but not in the sense that he found her silly.  Rather, he actually found she was much better at flirting than the other girls who clung to him.  As she was close, he sniffed once more and was incredibly gratified by her scent.  He knew the olfactory senses to be the first thing to trigger a memory and he wanted to make sure he would have everything he needed to recognize her again.  "Two hours?  What luck."  His grin widened further.  "That's approximately three and a half hours from my own estate.  By carriage of course.  It's called Vallachia.  Do you know the name?"




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
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Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anonymous

Given that he neither stumbled or faltered giver her variation of the dance that had involved her being against him, Senoniya was pleased. He matched the move perfectly, acting as though that were part of it the whole time. Would he be so adaptable in any given situation? She believed so. Senoniya watched him as the music quickened in a breath, body moving without the expressed attention some would require. This meant she could continue to focus on the exchange here... "Two hours? What luck," he said, making her curious as to how that may be a good thing. There wasn't a need for her to answer though. He explained with, "That's approximately three and a half hours from my own estate. By carriage of course. It's called Vallachia. Do you know the name?"

Given that Senoniya had to know all the land in and around the Verot'dess claim, she did know of Vallachia. It was certainly close enough, and as soon as that fell into place, so too, did his family name. One learned memory after another clicked in place, making her far more confident in her dealings with him now that she knew just where he was from. Background and history mattered to Senoniya. While it wouldn't tell her some of the more specifics, it would give her a base to go off of. The song came to a beautiful conclusion with several masterful steps that had given her pause when she was younger. As with the rest of the dance, the end was equally flawless. Senoniya finished the song standing right in front of him. Not the same as her body flush to his, but close enough she could feel the warmth of him through the silk of her gown. She remained there while the others broke off for refreshments, new partners, or setting up for the next song. "I do know of the estate," she answered gently then. And it was a bit of luck he was rather close. "Though I have never seen it." There was a hint of an opening there. He could take it, and invite her, or they could skip it. It'd be a fairly harmless excuse for her to see him again, if the evening continued to go so well. Only after she answered him did Senoniya take a step back.

Now that the dance was over, there were a couple of choices she could make. Another song would be played momentarily, which she could take advantage of... or... A different idea struck her. She waved over an attendant who happened to be carrying wine glasses. Senoniya took one for herself before conversationally saying, "This estate is rumored to have an extensive garden in the courtyard. Would you care to escort me so I may satisfy my curiosity?"  Senoniya liked the idea of getting him alone, somewhere a little more private, where she could talk to him. Figure out more about Atharon... and maybe why she was so very attracted to him.

Lion

In the excitement of the song as it sped up, so did his movements along with her.  There was a certain burst at the end of the melody that caused all the couples to move along with it.  Had there been a storm brewing, surely none of them would have wished to rest in the eye.  They were swept up in the energy, all of them.  But only Atharon and Senoniya seemed to have a handle on that volt surge of energy with an expertness that was lost on the rest of the couples on the floor.  Some even dropped out of the charade and stood on the sidelines to stare at their performance.  In everything Atharon kept his attention on her, for she was all the mattered now.  The carelessness that drove his soul, drove his feet right up until the dignified end.

There was a perfection in the final pose as he held her and he was thrumming from head to toe from the excitement of the moment.  However, he executed excellent control over his semblance and one couldn't tell unless they were well-trained in the art of physical reading; such was a practice he took to heart and was quite capable in telling much about a person just by looking at them.  It took quite the learned mind as well, to be capable of executing the physical read while concurrently working to hide their own thoughts from another's physical read.  From what he could tell, Senoniya was either extremely forward, or she too knew the arts of mental mastery.  Though he really didn't care either way.

Atharon breathed easily amidst the heat between them and replied without taking his eyes off of hers, "Ah, then you should.  There's no place quite like it; especially in the snow.  You ought to come by sometime."  He saw the servant go by, one attired in the regalia and red and gold colors of the Therabel family, and would have reached for a drink had he not been having a good time.  Liquor was good to have when one didn't want their wits about them, but he had every intention of keeping his wits and, if he was lucky, more.

Upon her request, he grinned and pulled up his elbow beside her so that she may hook her arm in his if she wished it.  "I take it you have a liking for gardens.  What a rare find!  Most women wouldn't deign to care for such things.  They'd rather have servants care for them, instead of appreciating the beauty of botany themselves.  I'm sure I can take you there, if you wish it."  His heart fluttered a little at the thought of getting her alone and such was well concealed beneath the shining veneer of his smile.




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

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Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anonymous

Senoniya was very well aware that they'd become part of the gossip for the evening. She was the Duchess Verot'dess, that alone could cause a ripple. Her wonderful dance with Atharon would cause a stir. But the full fury of gossip would surround the fact that Senoniya took his arm and was escorted away. Her first public appearance and she'd already sorted through a handful of potential –would be's- and was now leaving the party setting with Atharon. A first. Senoniya had never felt the urge to... be alone with anyone. The drink she took was more for show than anything else, a small action to see if he too would partake, and if he did, to what extent. Except he passed.

Senoniya took a sip, as she usually did. One sip. Never more in public. The Duchess hand been drunk once before, by order of her Father, so she would not only know the sensation, but so she could see what it would do to her. When she needed to focus, like now, being inebriated would be a stupid move. Senoniya only drank more at the Estate, and thus far, only one other time before now.

The Duchess was pleased he seemed to approve of her desire to see the garden. One couldn't guess from looking at her, but Senoniya not only had an affection for plants, but she was becoming a serious botanist. Since becoming Duchess, she'd already put the plans into motion to buy and set up her own green house. The Verot'dess estate courtyard already flourished under her practiced hand. Now she wanted somewhere she could explore her gift. Test the limits and possibilities... something she'd not been able to do while her parents had been alive. Gardening was the only dirty thing Senoniya did.

As they left the noise and clatter of the party, Senoniya kept her attention where they were walking. She didn't want to seem too interested in Atharon. Not yet. There might be something that would come up that she might abhor. Maybe. She found herself hoping not. He was the first promising man she'd met. It would be almost disheartening if there was something about him that was unacceptable. Namely, if he thought to make her a one night conquest.

"I will confess," she said, breaking the silence of the hall, "that I have a deep interest in plants." At this, she did look at him. The better to judge his reaction. "I'm having a green house built now."

Lion

It wasn't any secret that Atharon loved the drink.  As a matter of fact, he was one to participate in the manly rituals of the drink all too often but the special aspect of him was that he had the rare quality of being able to hold his liquor extremely well.  He felt he owed that trait to his demon blood, from which his father blamed all of his second-born's attributes (Grandfather never did like his son-in-law).  As much as Atharon loved the drink, he knew the right opportunities to roaring drunk and when not too.  Gatherings, public or private, usually tempted him to reach for the nearest bottle of brandy (or whatever was closest) but thankfully he was smarter than that.  Liquor was best used when one undoubtedly knew they were going to have a good time.

The mere fact that he didn't reach for a drink was enough fuel for the fire of gossip that erupted in the corner of the ballroom.  There the ladies of old, who had brought their daughters to enjoy themselves, made themselves busy by waving their fans about and whispering in each others ears with an insurmountable fury.  What they discussed, from what he could catch as he was walking away with Senoniya on his arm, seemed to be around the fact that they were burning with curiosity as to just what he was planning...well, planning as a sober man.  Well, as far as he was concerned, the albatross they wished to hang on his neck would have no bearings on him.

Atharon clutched Senoniya's hand gently in his arm, not enough to crush it but surely enough that it was snug in the embrace.  It felt nice to have her hand there and there was enough distance between them that allowed for other couples to compliment that he had a hint of decency left about him.  Not that he cared what they thought, but it was fun to jumble with people's opinions from time to time.  They moved through the crowd with expertness, as if they'd been here before, and were soon away from the guests as a whole.  A few passed by them in the semi-empty hallways; for a moment, Atharon thought they too were trying to be alone as well and found the garden the perfect place for it.  He wasn't one to follow the pack, not in the best of times, but he wouldn't refuse the request of a beautiful lady like Senoniya Verot'dess.  Besides, the whole thing seemed like her idea in the first place.  It just so happened to go along with what he had in mind.

Soon the last of the 'wandering' guests departed back to the main hall where the festivities where taking place, leaving the garden completely to them.  He kept his eyes on her, watching her expressions and to see if she would glance at him.  He had a faint feeling that she was trying to seem indifferent, but he knew better.  After all the duds that broke apart in her hands so far in the evening, the one that stood strong was the one that would last long.  She didn't spend as much time with others nor did she request to be escorted by any of them save him, alone.  And that in itself was a hint that there was more to the lady than what met his eyes.  And that was enough to tug at his persistence all the more.

Her voice captured his attention once more.  "I will confess," she said, "that I have a deep interest in plants.  I'm having a green house built now."  At this he nodded and with a grin replied, "Indeed?  That's fascinating.  You know, I've always liked the art of botany but I never could plant a flower as quickly as I could crush it.  So, to spare them, I leave those with green thumbs to do the 'dirty work'."  He paused for a moment, taking time to look about and absorb the sights of the garden.  When he glued the image in a file in the back of his mind he gazed at her once more with glinting eyes and said, "I focus instead on more on developing my mind.  So much so that I learned to do things like this."  

Atharon, looking to the side, spotted a basket of freshly cut flowers.  He reached forward with a free hand and focused on the top most flower.  With the utmost concentration, the plant slowly began to levitate as if on an invisible string and moved up from the basket and steadily forward toward them.  When it reached them, he grasped it gently in his hands and offered it to Senoniya.  "For you, milady."




Like to kill mages?  Join the Order!
The Order of St. Agratha

Help Rebuild Connlaoth from the ashes of war!
The Red Legion

Jump in the water's fine!
Desert Valley Nights
Wrong Turn

"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

Anonymous

Senoniya could have found the garden if she'd been blindfolded. There was a certain feeling she got, a general sense of where the concentration of plant life would be. The estate garden didn't feel... exotic... but well tended. Nothing felt distressed, which was a sign of neglect. Granted that the Therabel were wealthy enough to have a gardener, nothing should be in a ragged shape. The health of the plants didn't reflect  on the owner, but rather, the caretaker. That most families left this sort of work to someone else had never escaped Senoniya. Her parents had been the same. It had only served to reinforce their decision that Senoniya not learn any more of what she could do. Such a gift was not something a Lady should concern herself with. And to please them, she said naught of it since they made that call. If she spent some of her evening hours in the courtyard, relaxing, then no one was concerned. Senoniya never did more than look, touch... watch the plants. To do more might have invoked her parents ire, and if she wanted to inherit the estate, then that was something she could never do. Even without once watering, trimming, potting, or touching the dirt of the plants, Senoniya's touch had resulted in the growth and prosperation of the whole courtyard. If their gardener had to trim more because of how quickly they grew, or was able to bring cut flowers into the estate more often, no one but Senoniya and the gardener noticed.

She'd had the man fired along with the rest of the old staff, and instead, she'd taken over the care of Courtyard. Fawn, and her more able bodied attendant, Cahal, did what dirty work and heavy lifting she opted not to do. Though she was free to pursue her interest now, she wasn't about to wear the soft skin of her hands down or do the more labor intensive work. Senoniya was a Duchess. Such things simply were not done.

Senoniya was calmed somewhat when they finally arrived. She'd not even noticed anyone during the walk, nor had she heard any of the gossip as they'd passed through the crowd. It would be easy to speculate, and she was sure there would be inquiries and invitations sent after this night. Plenty of opportunities to learn what she may. She justified her lack of attention the account that it would be nothing she'd not heard before, or could not guess. Senoniya's courtship escapades had earned her a bit of attention since coming of age, where most who knew able men were biding their time, making guesses, and trying to plant their suggestions around her so that she may take notice and pick one. Thus far, she had not.

The sunlight had faded completely by now, encasing them in the dark glow of night and the pale rays of the moon. Despite the misconception a garden was only so stunning during the day, the shadows, highlights, and shapes created there in by the moon and plant life was equally stunning to Senoniya. Flower colors were muted shades of what they were during the day, adding an ethereal quality to the setting that was missed when the sun was up. As soon as they'd stepped outside, Senoniya had paused briefly to close her eyes and take a deep breath. The night felt silently alive, as it truly was. Each plant had an energy to it, each one vying patiently for water, light, space, and nutrients with its neighbors.

Senoniya shifted her attention to Atharon when he spoke, finding his response to her confession almost amusing. She was pleased he'd not tried to falsify his ability with plants to catch her attention, and it even made her smile a fraction when he admitted to crushing them more readily than encouraging them to grow. Not entirely a bad thing. When he paused to glance around, so too, did Senoniya. The setting was truly private, with not another soul in the garden. No human presence to hinder her feel of the life around her... and nothing that attempted to distract or hide Atharon's presence in front of her. Set against the backdrop of the garden, Atharon was easily the most dominant thing around her. He commanded attention by simply being who he was. There was no request for it, nothing about him that suggested he could easily be swayed by others... he just –was-. More predatory than the plants around her, more animated than the ripple of the leaves through a breeze, and more domineering than the most aggressive of organic life around her. She could readily admit to herself she was drawn like moth to a flame. Senoniya was never in the habit of denying how she felt. Better to know, and ensure she act accordingly, then deny and reveal what she did not wish to be seen.

When he looked back to her, Senoniya's gaze naturally met his. "I focus instead on more on developing my mind. So much so that I learned to do things like this."
Atharon's words piqued her curiosity, drawing her attention then to his hand... then the basket of monarda. A single, delicate flower was lifted from the rest. My, my, there was definitely more to him than she'd originally thought. She watched, her breath soft and silent, as the small cluster of pale pink flowers, all stemming from purple-reen bracts, found its way to his hand. And then was presented to her with, "For you, milady."

Senoniya accepted the gift with what many would have considered a neutral expression. Rather, Senoniya was guarding her reaction. Merely being careful as to what she revealed. When her deep blue eyes flicked back to him, he would know it had been a very appropriate gift. Small in nature, but she was incredibly pleased. Her look was very brief however, as Senoniya was beginning to suspect he had an easier time reading her than most. She studied the flower, feeling it in a way most people could not comprehend, let alone explain. A type of non verbal communication, something she had no explanation for. "Very impressive," she breathed gently, watching as some of the smaller blooms actually opened up simply from being in her hand. Without even trying, the monarda was responding to her presence. When she was sure she had her thoughts under control, she looked back to Atharon as she lifted the flower closer, inhaling the sweet smell of basil and mint put off by the blossoms. She'd never thought that he might have been gifted in other ways, something more than his confident air and charm. This was something that had her admitting that, while she was not falling in love with the man, she felt a very primal want for him. In their brief meeting, he'd displayed all the characteristics she'd wanted in a partner, with none of the social flaws or physical blemishes she was so used to seeing. Dare she say he was perfect? Or was there something she'd yet to see that would shatter this wonderful feeling? Senoniya knew how very delicate such attraction could be. One misstep, one thing that they both could not waver on could snap all the good, all the potential there was between them.  

[ >_> Went a lil overboard here.... sorry... ]

Lion

Atharon outstretched his senses in the area and could almost, quite literally, feel the energy present in the air. It was like a flame in the night, present however small it was and still burning as intensely as the brightest star. He couldn't exactly pinpoint where such vitality was coming from but he guessed he could owe it to the plant life surrounding them, Senoniya's close proximity, or the unannounced tension in the air. Something was stirring tonight and he wouldn't want to be the one to break the magic with the weight of a whisper. He held it as a truth in and of itself and would let raise that which was destined to. He would let the night simply be as it was meant to be.

Still that didn't stop him from enjoying himself. One didn't have to be rowdy and cause a ruckus to have a mighty good time (though such moments were often the most memorable). He absorbed the electricity in the air like limestone and fed upon the growing allure of the falling night. Already the hanging stars above shone as brightly as the sun but were dimmed enough to let the darkness shroud into shadows around them. Like conspiring spies, the darkness lurked in the spaces in which the reign of the moon could not reach. And like spies, it hid away from his vision when he looked and inched forward when the attention of the public was at bay. That was one of the multitude of reasons why he liked the night so much; more often than not, it was like being in the presence of another world; almost like some dark majesty.

But as far as the physical world was concerned, the only majesty Atharon was concerned with was the one standing next to him. Senoniya was all the more attractive in the moonlight and he would have been weak-kneed if he were a lesser man. Thankfully, he was molded to be strong and not falter in the presence of such feminine strength. Instead, he was encouraged to follow up on such power for it promised to dare equal his own. And that's what he sought more than anything. Especially right now. He considered his plans for Senoniya, how she would react to him and so far, she'd matched or surpassed all of his expectations. Such was a rarity for any woman to do, but she did so without any effort whatsoever! Or at least that was how it all outwardly seemed.

A scarcely concealed grin of satisfaction edged at the corners of his lips when she glanced at him, taking the monarda, and commented, "Very impressive." It pleased him that he had pleased her (though that was not quite the whole of his intention). He watched with a riveted fascination as the flower unfolded in her grasp as if it responded to a silent command. Though she had failed to move much in doing so, something in Atharon suspected she had an affinity with plants and he would admit as much to himself that though he knew so little of such ability, he wouldn't mind learning more about it; especially if it meant spending more time with her. The latter note opened up many questions for him but there wasn't a doubt in Atharon's mind that he wanted Senoniya, no doubt that he would have her. If it came down to a midnight bedroom excursion, he would no doubt want her for more than a single night. She had the semblance about her that was the epitome of all he wanted in a woman. He cared not what he would find underneath because there was an instinct feeling that boasted to claim it found all it needed to find.

He could see through many of her veneers, her attempts to hide reactions, but the eyes were the windows to the soul and he was versed in many of the techniques that called for one to mentally dominate another. Not that he had the intention to dominate her or make her kneel at his mercy in any way. Atharon grinned fully at her, animal-white teeth glinting in the moonlight. He had the best intentions for the evening and if all went well between them, he would seek her out the next day. When he decided to speak, the words came out as smolderingly as his eyes. "You are far more impressive. Tell me, just where did you learn to make plants grow like that?" he said with genuine interest. "No doubt I'd wish you to tend to my garden. You'd be far better off than any of my meager slaves." He found it only natural that his heart began to beat faster now.

[Nonsense!  Your post was excellent!]




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"Go into battle determined to die and you will survive.  Go into battle hoping to live and surely you shall not." -Bushido proverb
"Life is a series of dogs." -George Carlin
"We must view with profound respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the introduction of useful knowledge." -Thomas R. Lounsbury
"If a cosmic tree falls in the universal forest and nobody is evolved enough to hear it, does it make a sound?" -Unknown

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