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What's Yours is Mine [Sanct!]

Started by Paladienne, July 14, 2019, 10:40:15 AM

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Paladienne

The morning was, for the most part, a calm one. Astyrian had woken up that morning to the bare minimum of bangs, booms, and shrieks, which meant that his charges had either slept in late, which was their wont, or they had managed to get up and get themselves off without disturbing him, which was a rare feat indeed. Of course, the children that were in his charge were quick learners, and they knew what they could get away with and what they couldn't. And seeing as though today wasn't actually a school day - they had rare few of them as it was, and he wasn't about to begrudge anyone having time off - he was glad that there hadn't been any issues he needed to take care of at an ungodly hour of the morning. He was a sun elf, not one of those moon-bathing flower shadows. He shook his head and pushed himself out of bed, moving through his motions of getting ready for the day.

Just because it wasn't a school day for the children in his care didn't mean that they didn't have lessons. This was Zantaric, after all, a lawless place where the strong survived and the weak were eaten. Figuratively, not literally. And it was up to Astyrian to prepare these kids for their futures as murderers and assassins. He wasn't alone of course - he ostensibly ran the school and taught a few classes for appearance's sake - as there were others who taught and cared for the children, others who were part of the same guild he was, who also had a vested interest in ensuring these children, these orphans and unwanted ones, grew up to terrorize the world that had terrorized them.

However, Astyrian had a few things he needed to do first before he devoted his day to the children and their lessons.

He left his chambers and headed down the stairs to the main hall of the giant building that served as home, school, and training ground for the more than two dozen souls that lived within its walls. He greeted those he passed in the halls, teachers and students alike, earning respectful nods or happy "Hello's" and "Good morning's" from them. He replied in kind, and headed out of the school and onto the grounds, pausing as he stepped into a pool of sunlight, closing his eyes and raising his head, basking in the bright golden warmth as though it were a rapturous moment that he didn't want to miss. After a moment, he opened his eyes, the pale gold seeming to glow in the light of the sun. He didn't want to move from this spot, enjoying soaking up the sunlight and allowing it to fill him with vitality he couldn't get anywhere else, not even from the food he consumed. Still, he needed to get a move on with what he was needing to do today, so he reluctantly stepped out of the sunlight and headed toward the borders of the land the school sat upon.

Along with his other duties, Astyrian ensured that the wards he and others had placed around the school's perimeter were still in good shape and hadn't been tampered with in any way, shape, or form. No matter what they were *supposed* to be in the future, children were still children and found numerous ways to get into trouble when there wasn't a responsible adult around to keep an eye on them. Besides that, this was Zantaric, and more than a few enterprising ne'er-do-wells had tried to break the perimeter and spirit off that girl or this boy, or that item or this book, thinking that they might make some money and be able to live in relative comfort. They were deterred pretty quickly by the wards, and if they weren't, then either Astyrian or someone else would be quick behind them to ensure that they would never make a mistake like that again.

So he walked the perimeter, checking the wards, strengthening some and replacing others entirely. His journey brought him back to the front gate of the school eventually, where he unlocked the deadbolt and pushed the gate aside, allowing anyone who wished to enter the grounds. For a time, he stood at the gate, looking down the road that led to the streets of the more populated area, watching people go about their business and their daily lives. Seeing nothing too much of note, Astyrian turned to head back to the school, pausing once more in a puddle of sunlight to soak up the warmth, his eyes closing.

SanctifiedSavage

Estiess had lived long enough that he tended not to question when he opted to appear the places he did. There might be a time and place for everything, but the fey generally found that he arrived exactly when he needed to, or when he should. So he never much bothered for a schedule. Things just worked out.

As they should for a descendant of Luck.

So, when he felt the need to peruse the grounds of the land his family had just purchased, he did. Giving into whim was part and parcel of what he was. It might as well be his Matron Saint whispering sweet nothings into his ear, tugging him along. The Ityd family had already bought up a large portion of the block – timely debts due or illnesses in respective owners providing opportunities that they just happened to benefit from. With this newest deal completed, there were only a couple of monuments in the way.

Estiess stood just outside the gates of one such building, his deep blue eyes landing on a brilliantly golden figure near glowing in the sun he stood in.

The fey waited, and watched. Arms clasped behind his back, dressed in layers of fine blue and white silk etched in real silver thread. It made his pinkish skin and likewise brilliantly colored hair stand out all the more. When an appropriate amount of admiration had been done, and when it seemed the pretty elf might move on, Estiess cleared his throat politely. "Would you mind fetching the owner of this place? I'd love to have a few words with them." He smiled pleasantly. Knowing his luck – which was almost always good – the golden pretty boy was the owner. But Estiess liked to ruffle feathers just to see what manner of response he would get.

Life was more fun that way.

Paladienne

Astyrian slowly opened his eyes at the sound of that strange voice, and angled his head to look at the stranger through his lowered lashes. He sized the man up - pretty, in an elven sort of way, but certainly not elven; clothes of excellent quality that spoke of money in droves; and an air of self-assurance that only those of the upper crust could possess - and took his measure quickly enough. Someone who had money and power and who expected his whims to be answered immediately. Someone who enjoyed watching others squirm. Someone who enjoyed wielding his power like a sword and beating down those who couldn't, or wouldn't, fight back. Astyrian had lived his live among that kind of person for years, and once in a while still did. He was used to dealing with someone like this stranger, although Moonbeam wasn't someone he had to hold back with when their arguments got heated. With strangers, Astyrian needed to make sure that he was the picture of unflappable calm, that there wasn't a thing in the world that could raise his temper and cause him to lash out.

He'd had plenty of practice, after all. He was a prince. Or used to be, anyway. It still startled him how easy it was to fall back into that facade where he had no care in the world except his own pleasure.

Opening his eyes all the way, Astyrian turned to face the stranger on the other side of the gate and folded his arms over his chest. Whether it was to seem intimidating or to seem as though the other man's presence was bothersome to him, but only in a trivial sort of way. As if he were a normal annoyance, much like a fly one couldn't be bothered to swat. He shifted to face the stranger more fully, though Astyrian didn't approach.

"Unfortunately, I can't fetch the owner," Astyrian responded, his voice bland. "They're not here. But you can tell me what it is you wish them to know. I'll see that they get the message."

He wouldn't, of course, but the stranger didn't need to know that.

SanctifiedSavage

Estiess decided rather quickly he liked this man. The way he looked at the fey with degrees of contempt and a flair of annoyance beneath a veneer of calm and apathetic practice. He appreciated it, if nothing else. Besides, what fey didn't like looking at pretty things.

His smile grew a fraction, threatening to turn into a smirk. He otherwise remained motionless. Only the faint breeze played with his clothes and hair. "Oh, what a shame. I had really hoped to speak with them about the unfortunate fact that this property seems to have been improperly zoned." He then gestured, waving vaguely along the left side – where just next to them an estate was presently being torn down. The building collapsed just as Estiess gestured. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. "No worry, though. It is just a small matter. We'll just start pulling down the wards along that wall and see to it that it is moved the several feet it should be. Be sure to pass that along, like a good boy." He was nothing but pleasant and polite.

It was all a damned lie, but none of that mattered. Said with absolute confidence and assurance, it would either put some pep in the other man's step or at least make him a little more interested in further interacting with Estiess.

He did like poking at people, now and then. The fey dipped a flourished bow and made to leave.

Paladienne

Astyrian looked toward the left, as the stranger indicated, and watched without emotion as the building there fell brick by brick. His eyebrow raised, an expression of slight amusement crossing his face. He turned his attention back to the stranger, folding his arms over his chest and assuming a stance of pure nonchalance.

"Well, good luck tearing down the wards." Astyrian said blandly. "I made them myself, along with several others that are more powerful than I. It would take you centuries to unravel them, seeing as they're intertwined with each other like weeds. Beyond that, you have to know the nature of the ward in order to unravel it, and how the caster set it up, and all sorts of other minutiae that are likely beyond your ken."

Astyrian turned then and started back toward the school, utterly ignoring the man as he went.

SanctifiedSavage

Estiess maintained his amused stance while he watched the other pretty man explain the wards, filing all the information away. Then he gave a short nod when the golden elf turned, intending to leave. Obviously he was going to have to make good on the threat he'd just casually tossed up in the air, which only meant a longer day, but Estiess didn't mind.

Call it flirting. One didn't just give up the game just because the game became difficult. Was more entertaining that way. So he watched the retreating form with not a little interest before he turned on his heel to retrieve one of the enchanters in the family employ.

Even if it was going to take however long, as the other man said, Estiess had nothing but time.

He returned within the hour, a small fairy with glittering iridescent wings reminiscent of a humming birds trailing him. She was a small, slight thing with vibrant hair that rivaled his own. Her dress was a flimsy thing made of gauze that fluttered in the breeze created by her rapidly beating wings.

Estiess gestured to the walls and the estate before she nodded, flitting near it before landing so she could start her work.

OOC

Lemme know if you need me to change anything.
[close]

Paladienne

Astyrian paused as he felt the alarm sound as a soft buzzing in his ear, indicating that the wards around the estate were being tampered with. He scowled, knowing that there was only one person who would have decided to do what he wanted to do anyway, and that was the idiot whom he'd met this morning, telling him that the entire estate needed to be shifted to one side just a little. He was tempted to go down and find the culprit, but that wouldn't be fun. No, if anything his sudden appearance would give the bastard infinite satisfaction. Astyrian smiled, though, showing just a bit of teeth.
It would be he who had the infinite satisfaction in the end, though.

He found a secluded spot to stand, hidden from view from anyone who would be trying to look into the grounds or into the building. There, he closed his eyes, and followed the thrum of magic to where it was being tampered with. He did nothing then but watch, studying the fairy with interest. He couldn't deny her skill in breaking the wards, but these wards weren't meant to be broken. If anything, they were the ones that were supposed to remain intact, and they were the ones that served as a warning to those located around Zantaric from his organization. Once broken, a flood of fury and death would crash down on the offender. Or would have, if Astyrian hadn't triggered a ward of his own making, one that allowed the broken wards to slowly repair themselves without notice. It was a subtle magic, one never seen in lands like this.

Astyrian watched, his grin growing wider as the fairy crept closer and closer to the first of the traps.

When she triggered it, Astyrian couldn't help the sharp bark of laughter that escaped him as an electrical shock - one powerful enough to stop a human's heart - rushed through the tiny body of the fairy. It shot her away from the wall of wards at a prodigious speed, leaving only a smoking trail as to her trajectory.

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