The chambers of the Caesar were located on one of the higher levels of the Citadel proper, yet here in the Aether they magickally appeared adjoining the Throne room. This was after all not the Tether and Andolin Azarin was enough of a sorcerer to be able to manipulate the Aetherical energies but with a thought of his mind.
With a soft push the heavy oaken doors to the Imperial bedroomchamber opened, the hinges being well oiled. In the middle of the room an enormous bed stood, surrounded by goldrimmed mirrors. Large velvet purple drappings formed an ornamented canopy supported by columns over the Imperial Bed; an elegant if somewhat pompous baldachin. The velvet curtains were drawn, but suggested windows that went right up to the ceiling, with what was probably a lovely view over the gardens.
Carefully the White Imperial Guard carried Rosalie into the room, as per his orders. putting her down upon the bed so that she could recover. Rose could feel the soft silken sheets, the cushion that indented with her light pressure. It was lavender scented, reminding her of past dreams. No, no.. this is not happening.
A shiver ran through her body as she recalled those dark eyes. Merda.I have got to get out of here quickly. Yet where would she go? She was a prisoner inside the Citadel. The petite consul quickly allowed her eyes to open fluttering, pushing herself up. Her hairdo had gotten undone, her chestnut curls falling down her back. The windows. Rosalie got up and hurried to the closed curtains.
OOC: guess what, the imperial bedchamber had a lovely description all ready for use Your dream though. Changes are easily made.
[size=84][color=darkred]This character has resigned and is now a NPC.[/color]
Avatar by Liz Green[/size]
A voice came out of nowhere, female, soft and whispery and somewhat echoing and ghostlike, as if coming from a very distant, hollow place. From the ceiling, a black small orb slowly fell down, floated near the corner of the room where the shadows where most abundant and it seemed to blink once and twice at the Lady of the West until a faint shimmering, purple haze appeared and the slow hazy form of the Dark Sorceress, all clad in the tattered robes of purple, her golden hair artfully disarrayed and regarded Rose with an arched, bemused look. The form had no shadows and it seemed insubstantial, as if the Westerner Consul could see through her hazy form.
"...Lady Lo Russo?" The voice changed, as if Fauna was standing inside the room now.
"Would you like a cup of espresso or a cappuccino? I do know how rigorous fainting is..." There was a hint of amusement in her voice and a small smile could be seen pasted upon her hazy, flawless, Amunic face.
"I can help you, you know..." The projected illusion continued, it seemingly walked towards the bed and sat down upon the edge, gracefully crossing its legs and turned its head back to the Lady of the West with a very theatrical, sincere smile.
"...The Ceasar is very..." It paused, as if seemingly breathing, "...gentle with his hostages."
"Cruelty has a Human Heart,
Jealousy a Human Face,
Terror the Human Form Divine,
and Secrecy the Human Dress."
-- William Blake
Rosalie froze into place, her hand still on the purple velvet. "I was merely anxious for a breath of fresh air," she said without turning, drawing the curtains and finding herself in front of a small balcony. Rose opened the doors. It was winter. A long cold winter. The wind howled around the tower that was the Citadel. The garden was dead before her. Only the snow lit up before her in the deep dark gravetide. Even if I could escape the palace, I would be dead from the cold and misery before I reached the outer ring. Then what? The Citadel was an island. An island at war. Rosalie had nowhere to escape to.
With a sigh Rosalie turned to face the sorceroress. The consul was no stranger to mages, but at home they talked of energies and machines, of practical things that helped mankind. In the Empire Rose found that most mages were more inclined to be mysterious, to hide in the shadows.. indeed, to flirt with the darkness that must never be touched lest all be lost. Father Bitalli said even the pagans are within the circle of the One, without task being one of enlightment. However, they welcome the darkness, almost seem to embrace it. How can that be in the light? Do they not see that we only intent to save the world? How easy it is to make us into the enemy
Rosalie circled the bed. It was an illusion, which was only visible through the slight shimmering. The consul barely stopped herself from making the Sign of the Eye of the One. She appears rather comfortable on this bed. I wonder how often she's spread her legs on it. Yes, she seems the kind to use her body. I wonder how that reflects on the Dark Domus. Is this what he seeks? "No espresso, thank you kindly" Rosalie said formally, not betraying her thoughts. The Imperial try at espresso was pathetic and she'd rather do without than to face it. The lady, if indeed she was a lady, appeared comfortable with protocol though, which was a relief. "Help me? how?" Rosalie asked innocently.
The soft voice suggesting a gentleness in Lord Azarin made her shiver. Those dark eyes. "Gentle, milady? What would that mean to me, I beg of you? The Ceasar has done naught but follow protocol, though I suspect he wishes to question me. You seem intend on forcing alliances when perhaps you should allow it to run its natural course," she gave the lady an ironic glance. She'd be nobody's patsy, no matter her dire straits. If the Dark Domus was intent on such things, no doubt he'd take the matter at hand without the help of his assistant. "Doe he know you are.. here .. so to speak?"
Last edited by Rosalie Marcada on Tue May 23, 2006 12:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.
[size=84][color=darkred]This character has resigned and is now a NPC.[/color]
Avatar by Liz Green[/size]
The projected illusion, a trickery of pure light and sound, of the Dark Sorceress nodded its blonde head as the Lady Consul declined its offer of drinks. Slowly, it negligently lifted and gracefully flicked her hand, it turned its head, frowned at the opened balcony door, as if concentrating. "Oh, but you seem to be freezing, Lady Consul. Let's close the door, shall we? It's letting in the cold. Perhaps a fire will warm you." It declaired politey and turned its cold, blue eyes back to the Lady of the West as the door of the balcony slowly closed and the great fireplace slowly blazed with a fire, spreading its warmth and casting flickering shadows around the room.
"Why... With anything, Lady Rose. I can help you with anything..." It replied urbanely, indifferently scrutinizing its well-manicured fingers before lifting its flawless, milky-white, Amunic face to the Lady Consul. The illusion seemed to be really comfortable sitting upon the edge of the bed, its legs demuredly crossed, smiling at the Westerner Woman. "...Even your freedom." Was it not her advise to have the Lady of the West hostaged? The Dark Sorceress carefully tiptoed around the Ceasar to have it done and that was not a simple feat.
"Of course, the Ceasar is gentle." It assured the Lady of the West with its perky, seemingly innocent smile and look. "He was the Master of the Protocol before he was the Major Domus. He's the epitome of etiquette, protocol and civility. I assure you, Lady Consul, there is nothing to be feared with the Ceasar."
"Oh, but you mistook me, Lady Consul." It seemed mildly offended. "I do not force anything, I merely advise. You cannot force anything to the Ceasar. He is wise beyond his years. His main goal is to have the Empire of the East solidified under his white banner in one goal: United Peace. I believe that the Eastern Empire has never seen a mightier Ceasar before the Lord Azarin and under his care, the Empire will have its stability, tranquility and peace it longed for."
"His Imperial Majesty's only problem is the looming Western Empire, and I do assure you that it saddens him to have the Western Empire mistook him as an enemy. If he could only talk with your King Balthazar, I am sure that the Ceasar could amicably and diplomatically come up with an accord with your king. He does not like war. He believes in peace and unity. There is also the Nether Creatures that seems to crop around the Seven Isles and His Imperial Majesty is trying his best to stop the Nether Creatures from usurping the world of Tazlure. The heavy duty of Ceasarhood sits heavily upon his shoulders. I try to unload some of his heavy burdens from his shoulder, but I am afraid that is not enough. I am not enough. What he needs is..."
It paused and lifted its flawless face and looked equally at the Lady Consul. "...Someone he trusts. Someone he can see as an equal, someone to share his burden, the burden of the Empire. I have seen him do many things for the benefit of the Empire, but I have never seen him open himself, he is haunted. He needs someone he can open his ownself without fear."
Its blue eyes grew distant. "There was a rumour once, a woman he loved. It was so long ago but I fear that the Ceasar is still haunted by it. By the dark haired woman." It paused for more than a few flickers before regarding the Lady of the West again. "Forgive my ramblings, Lady Lo Russo." It apologized courteously. "Now, where was I? Does he know that I am here?" The projected illusion suddenly laughed out loud, its silvery peals of laughter echoing around the room. "I do beg your pardon. The Ceasar is entertaining his subjects and the Lady Scatha is very amusing." It turned it eyes back to the door, its red lips twitching with surpressd mirth.
"No, there are some things that the Ceasar doesn't need to know." Was all its reply before regarding the Lady of the West with its dead, emotionless, blue eyes.
"Cruelty has a Human Heart,
Jealousy a Human Face,
Terror the Human Form Divine,
and Secrecy the Human Dress."
-- William Blake
Beyond that same door to the bedchamber Jolanda paused with her small hand upon it's handle, a chill from nowhere creeping up her spine. Perhaps this is Rosalie's wish?
Looking up at the majestic door it became apparent to her that this was just the sort of residence the Consul would be accustomed, and here it was, the middle of the night. Was it not as good as a marriage to westerners if a Lady spent the evening in a lords Bedchamber? Their protocol was so ridiculous, her own 'marriage' to Antonio via her own announcement from thin air proved that.
Her eyes unfocussed, the refocused upon the key within it's lock. Knowing then what she must do... turning the key, she locked Rosalie within, then hid the key within in that safe warm spot between her breasts.
Marriage, it was. Let the soon to be Caesar try to explain to Lord Marvick what other reason there might be for his kidnapping and publically sending the virginal Rosalie to his bedchamber. All that was needed now, was for the Consul to spill a little blood on the sheets, and Jolanda knew the woman was shred enough to deduce the importance of doing just that.
So turning, Jolanda made take a seat, to await the dawn when she would send a message to Terra west of the Union.
Last edited by Jolanda on Fri May 26, 2006 10:31 am, edited 1 time in total.
The fire in the hearth flared. Rosalie nearly jumped out of her skin, repressing a shudder. Coming from the Mouth she was no stranger to magery, but it was a practical thing, part of machines with steam and copper, huffing and puffing, with professors explaining details about energy contained within. This kind of magick, surely, not matter what Father Bitalli said about heathens possibly being within the circle of Dominicus, within the light...this could no be. Black Magick. We will all pay for the frivolous use of these dark arts.
The illusion before her seemed ever so comfortable on the bed, making Rosalie wonder how often the sorceress had shared it with the Ceasar as part of her daily duties. However, the consul was not a fool. She would not throw away a potential ally by insulting her. "Why, milady... what a kind offer," the petite woman smiled "You will have to forgive my merchantheart however. For such offers there is always a price to pay. So I would like to hear it before I even begin to entertain such thoughts." You are not just here to plead for your Ceasar, I can tell you that. We are both but pawns in your little blond mind. That was cute of course. It meant that lord Azarin could not even trust those closest to him. What a lonely place. It gave her an unexpected measure of sympathy for the man, which she repressed. Rose could ill afford it.
Fauna's expose about the nature of the Ceasar and his ultimate goals as if he was the avatar of Dominicus himself gave rise to cynical amusement. A gentleman is not necessarily gentle. Protocol is a tool, a sign of civilization perhaps. It hid a wealth of political ambition that Rosalie could just smell in the air. No doubt milord wants to rule the world. Is he not originally from the Mouth? Such irony. He would have made a very proper merchantprince if it was not for his claim to nobility.
Fauna went on and on, perhaps not even noticing Rosalie's quietness and reticence. She is turning him into a romantic dark hero, love lost. How see through you are sorceress. A darkhaired lady describes half the human population. Now you want me to save him on such a flimsy story? The consul of the Mouth smiled diplomatically, not revealing her thoughts on the matter.
Rosalie's head turned sharply however at a key turning.Merda. Is that the guards returning.... or the Ceasar Her heart beat faster..of fear, not of anticipation. Lord Andolin Azarin was a powerful opponent and she had to be on her scheming best. Little did she know about her own little companion sealing her fate.
[size=84][color=darkred]This character has resigned and is now a NPC.[/color]
Avatar by Liz Green[/size]
"Oh, I see the incredulous look upon your beautiful face, Lady Consul." The Illusion exclaimed with amusement, its face was painted with a theatrical look of being offended. "Price to pay? Why, such a soul of mercantilism, must be from the way you were brought up at the Western Empire. Very well, it will be a business talk then, Lady Consul. But let us not look at the debit... Let us look at the credit you will earn." It paused, smiling once again at the Lady of the West.
"You will have your freedom..." It began again, "...if that happens to be your heart's desire. But, let's say, you want something else... We shall take a look at it and we'll see if that notion is feasable. You don't have to pay anything, Lady Consul. You need not be afraid of contracts like sacrificing souls or blood compact that is done in the Netheric accords. That notion is not appealing to me. I hate dealing and summoning Netheric Creatures, they are unseemly to look at and they slobber and salivate most of the time." It frowned with distaste. "Although, if you see the angle that the price you would have to pay is for me to be your business partner is unappealing, I believe that will be the crux of the contract. I must say that I am a very loyal subject or business partner... As long as there isn't any backstabbing, that is. I am from Amun Rah and you could take my contract from the Lord Azarin."
It paused and frowned when the door clicked as well, her eyes going distant and the illusion seemingly dimming, almost disappearing. "The Ceasar is still at the Throne Room but I cannot see your Lady Jolanda, Lady Consul." It said, its voice seemingly coming from a very distant place, its eyes seemingly empty and distracted and then flicked back to the present. "I shall look beyond the door for you, Lady Consul, it is time for, as you all merchants say: 'a business pause to mull over the contract."
With enough grace, the illusion stood, seemingly arranged the fold of its gown. "I shall give you this..." From the corner where the shadows were most abundant, a small black orb floated towards the Lady Consul. "Just whisper my name to that Orb and I shall come as soon as you call my name, Lady lo Russo." It nodded imperiously once, tucked an offending blonde lock of hair behind her ear and walked flitteringly towards the door and through it into...
[hr][/hr]
...Lady Jolanda.
"...Is there something I can do for you, Lady Jolanda?" A voice asked her; female, sensual, whispery and polite. It was coming from the door and the woman saw the Dark Sorceress went through the locked door right before her and stood with a curious look upon its blue eyes.
There was something odd about the figure, as if it lacked color, the form had no shadows and it seemed insubstantial, as if the Westerner Lady could see through her hazy, indistinct form. The seeming illusion of the Dark Sorceress the Dark Sorceress was all clad in the tattered robes of purple, her golden hair artfully disarrayed and regarded Jolanda with an arched, bemused look.
"Or are we on the same minds of what is about to happen?" It asked her curiously, very much aware that the Lady Westerner might have been eavesdropping.
Last edited by Fauna Winthrope on Fri May 26, 2006 9:51 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Cruelty has a Human Heart,
Jealousy a Human Face,
Terror the Human Form Divine,
and Secrecy the Human Dress."
-- William Blake
Buy her contract from Lord Azarin? Was that her entire story? The girl was a slave, property? Rosalie considered her quite deranged if the blond thought she was going to fall for such a story. Not used to the harems of Amun Rah she could not conceive of a powerful slave girl. No, Rose was used as a pawn, yet again. With effort the consul repressed an urge to smash the orb against the wall in anger. Instead she hid it in the folds of her gown.
Rosalie looked around hastily. For some reason she thought the arrival of the Ceasar imminent. Will he come through the door with the key, or simply walk through the wall like his sorceress?. However flickers passed, and no Ceasar came.
He will not find me on the bed, the cafone the petite lady thought with some determination, as she grabbed one of the blankets and dragged it with her to the chair in front of the blazing hearth. She wanted the play the game on her own terms. Rose crawled up in the large leather chair, covering herself with the blanket, settling herself for a long wait. Drowsy from the heat of the fire she nodded off. Outside it snowed again.
Last edited by Rosalie Marcada on Fri May 26, 2006 10:59 pm, edited 1 time in total.
[size=84][color=darkred]This character has resigned and is now a NPC.[/color]
Avatar by Liz Green[/size]
Jolanda was in a dreamy daze, imagining a glorious access to the hub of the city whenever she desired such - with Rosalie as Andolin's wife, surely her friends would have access aplenty to the opulence of the Citadel. A dreamy smile was upon her face, it was quite perfect. Her imagined foray into politics and matters of importance made her feel quite heady.
"...Is there something I can do for you, Lady Jolanda?"
Blinking towards the voice, she saw an ethereal vision. Disoriented, she did not recognize it as Fauna, but thought instead it was the golden goddess Pecunia - here to reassure her that she was not abandoned.
"... the truth keeps silent..." Jolanda intoned a Pecunian dogma, lowering her eyes lest she be blinded by the vision. Her lack of accent betraying she were native born, "Praise be to the golden goddess above all others. Yes, we are of one mind. Have my steps seemed to stray, ‘tis an illusion for others ... yet my sight is, has always been, firmly on the prize."
She slipped from the chair to her knees in a devout posture.
Approaching from the throne room, Andolin paused as he approached the doors that would usher him in to check on the status of Rosalie. Rather than having guards outside his doors, there was Jolanda on her knees before an apparition that ... looked a lot like Fauna, but with disheveled hair. His magical advisor certainly got around.
He had already witnessed Fauna's ability to send a shadow from her body, but this was more than a shadow. It seemed to be an image of herself ... or perhaps an evil twin sister.
Conjuring images of two Imperial Guardsmen at his back, he instructed them to see to it that he was not disturbed. He glanced towards Jolanda as if to indicate a target. The projection he would handle. It was good that Jolanda had not entered the chamber with her mistress.
Then, he moved to enter his chamber in a confident way ... only to find the door locked. So, Rosalie has awakened and is trying to lock me out. But, Andoilin knew he was in the aether, and such minor obstacles were easy to overcome here.
Conjuring another key into his hand, he unlocked the door, moved inward and then closed and locked the door behind him. His eyes scanned the room. He found her not on his bed, but dozing in a chair before the fire.
Moving as silently as he might, he had a bottle of champagne appear in his hand as he approached. Sitting beside her in another leather chair, he observed her quietly for a moment. Was she feigning sleep? He would attempt to determine whether she truly slept or not. "Can I offer you some champagne?" he asked softly while watching her eyelids for movement.
[i]Someone has to be in charge, so it might as well be me.[/i]
Andolin Avatar by the Nice GD
Rosalies long dark eyelashes rested on her olive skinned cheeks and her chest was going softly up and down in restful pose, a small satisfied smile playing over her lips. One hand dangled slightly, which had allowed the blanket to slip back a bit.
Was she really asleep? Can one truly sleep in a dream? Rose did not know the answer to that philosophical question. One moment she had been watching the flames feeling her eyes drop, the next moment her eyes flew open upon hearing that familiar voice. As if the time in between had simply not existed for her. There was a flicker of confusion, of panick. Where am I? Then the truth came washing back upon her. She was no longer the consul. She was a prisoner of the Empire, and her political antics had caught the Caesars eye. Now she was here. His prisoner. His bedchamber.
Her amber eyes narrowed, concentration returning. The true game for survival had begun. She could not think upon what others wished for her, or what they would think of what transpired in here. All that mattered was this lord with his immeasurable black eyes, her most formidable opponent. Protocol. When in doubt there is always protocol to fall back on.
"Milord," she told him in her low voice as she glanced at him, acting as if they were in a public place instead of these intimate surroundings "I think I do. It is always proper to have a glass of champagne. It truly is a beverage for all seasons" Rosalie even managed a cautious polite smile that was meant to distance him as she tried to sit up straight with elegant poise.
Last edited by Rosalie Marcada on Sat May 27, 2006 10:12 pm, edited 1 time in total.
[size=84][color=darkred]This character has resigned and is now a NPC.[/color]
Avatar by Liz Green[/size]
It was like being caught in the act of stealing cookies from the cookie jar when the Ceasar stumbled upon the two ladies: One, a seeming illusion of his loyal Imperial Advisor and the other, the ever loyal attendant of the Lady Consul of the West.
A sheepish, lame smile was the only thing the illusion of the Dark Sorceress could do as the Ceasar glance upon it. With enough grace, salvaging its poise and decorum, it curtsied as the Ceasar passed through, seeing the two Imperial Guards materializing behind the Lord Azarin as he swept passed and went inside his bedchamber without any hindrance. The illusion gave the two Imperial Guards a dark, cold look, almost at the verge of a snarl when the Ceasar left them to guard the door.
Never mind, It thought with chagrin, it still have some trick up its sleeves with the orb still planted upon the Consul's body. It could hear the conversations between the Ceasar and the Lady Consul. But what to do about her? It arched its indistinct eyebrow at Jolanda.
And then it smiled, shrewdly...
ooc: let's go here, Jolanda, so we won't clutter the two.
"Cruelty has a Human Heart,
Jealousy a Human Face,
Terror the Human Form Divine,
and Secrecy the Human Dress."
-- William Blake
Conjuring two glasses, Andolin dutifully filled them and then set the bottle between them on the floor. Offering her the choice of glasses, he sat back with whichever glass she left for him.
Waiting to sip until she did, Andolin spoke softly. "You fainted at the words of my magical advisor it seems," be began with amusement. "You left me with no alternative but to see you comfortably reclined until you recovered. I am always mindful of my guests."
With another sip he apologized. "I apologize for the vulgarity of the commoners you experienced outside. It is so hard to find people of quality these days it seems. Those people are coarse and unschooled, but a ruler must rule over all of his subjects ... regardless how ignorant they might be in the ways of pleasant company."
"Is it so different in the Mouth? Are there not louts aplenty? I must confess that though my family heralds from there, I cannot say that I have kept current on developments there. Perhaps we can pass the time in pleasant conversation about the latest news from there," he offered lightly. Though couching it as innocent conversation, he was more than eager to learn all he could about the Mouth and its plans.
[i]Someone has to be in charge, so it might as well be me.[/i]
Andolin Avatar by the Nice GD
Rosalie accepted a glass, noting how he gave her the choice in an artful way that safeguarded her against poisoning. It was unnecessary. There were so many straightforward ways in which he could kill her. Yet it was a gallant gesture, one she appreciated. Rose raised her crystal glass in silent toast before carefully sipping from the bubbly fresh mixture. Even a merchantprincess did not drink champagne every day. She savored its taste as she listened to Lord Azarin tease her about her swoon that so failed in its purpose.
"It was not your presence that displeased me, milord," Rosalie murmured by way of apology, for what had she to gain by insulting the man that held her prisoner despite his polite use of alternative words "But the thought I would be condemned to spend my time with that rabble to the end of my time did become a trifle to oppressive, leaving me breathless which did not combine well with the current tight fashions of the Mouth. I have chosen to represent my home, even in these dire circumstances, in a far away country. However I live by the hope that I may one day return in comfortable retirement to all that I am used to."
It was the Caesars turn to apologize. Rose sipped from her glass once more, inclining her head slightly in acceptance, though she did wonder where all the Empire's famed nobles where. Did they run off to their estates, tail between their legs, when things became though? That would be the usual way of it.
Rosalie saw it when it came... the inevitable interrogation... hidden in an innocent conversation topic by two people sharing a glass of champagne. She hid her smile of admiration in her glass, buying herself a flicker or two. She was in truth not drinking much of the bubbly mixture, but the nipping was comfortable. At least this situation allowed for counter questions. It had far more finesse than a Kislovani riding whip.
"Why, milord Azarin, you surprise me," the petite lady exclaimed airily "Of course the Mouth has its unschooled laborers. Why the Seams is overflowing with them. Who else would be working in our industries, unload our boats, dig in our saltmines? Surely you have not been gone so long that you've forgotten the smell of them, their incessant coughing because of the blacklung due to those unfortunate vapors of the Sillicius river? We are however not so foolish to allow them in our circles. They should not impose themselves on their betters. Dominicus' benediction rests upon the merchants, who through hard work and piety have created the true strength of World's Mouth. Their economic success is a sign they are meant to rule, and they do."
"Old news, milord," Rosalie smiled in her throathy voice, "For it has been like this for some time now. How long has it been since you have been in the Mouth, milord?"
[size=84][color=darkred]This character has resigned and is now a NPC.[/color]
Avatar by Liz Green[/size]
Andolin listened carefully to her every word, nodding in appreciation of her apology and explanation. Yes, this was far more civilized than the chaos ensuing outside.
"I fear you have me at a disadvantage, milady," he declared as he sipped champagne in hopes that she would drink liberally as well. "You see, I do not know when, or if, I was ever in the Mouth. My father, as you probably know from legend, went in search of a great dragon to slay. He was a most ... sporting man you see." And stupid, just like the rest of the Azarins. "He disappeared into the great desert, leaving my mother to fend for me as best she could. When the rest of the Azarin clan fell victim to ... accidents, I believe she thought it better that we enjoy a grand tour of the Empire instead," he added with some amusement. "I have been here ever since."
"So, humor me if you would, and tell me of the Mouth. What do you know of my family?" It was best to make his interest look genuine and personal. "How fare the nobility these days? Have they thrown off the oppression of the merchant class yet?" he queried with a smile hidden behing his champagne glass.
[i]Someone has to be in charge, so it might as well be me.[/i]
Andolin Avatar by the Nice GD
Rosalie listened to Andolin's tale with some bemusement. She had never heard of it, nor indeed had she heard of any noble family called Azarin. This is why she had sent for more information on him to councilor Carloni. She realized he had never gotten back to her on that. Lost in the chaos.
The champagne went quicker than Rose would have wished, but it filled her with a warm pleasantness that added to the heat of the fire in the hearth, fitting to the comfyness inside on a cold winternight. Blue, she suddenly decided Not just dark. There is a touch of blue to his eyes. Only then did the mouthie girl realize she had been observing the man's physical features as he told her of his youth. All part of the strategy, she reassured herself.
"A wise decision perhaps, milord," Rosalie offered "For a departure to the Empire must have assured her position as a noble remained intact, as well as a frivolous freedom that she would never have experienced in World's Mouth. That is, if she renounced her faith, which I presume she did, since you are not a follower of the One" It was a factual statement. She gave him a curious look. What DO you believe in milord Azarin. Only yourself? "There are certain faiths in the Empire that have entirely different views on propriety. As a lone woman she might have appreciated them." An innocent look followed that suggestion. No, his mother would no longer have been considered proper at all after a long stay in the Empire. It was something that threatened even Rose.
"Had she stayed, well.." Rose shrugged elegantly "Without a husband surely the Merchant Council might have taken her as a ward and let her remarry to a councilor. What estate did you say your family held? I can't quite seem to recall it."
She took the last sip of her champagne, a bit shocked it was empty already, staring in the empty glass for a flicker "Oppression of the nobles? How ironic. I think it was the Merchant Council that freed the Mouth. Now every man can proof his worth and be measured on his own success, instead of relying on his place of birth."
Rosalie glanced up with a calculating smile, not allowing herself to be mesmerized "Surely something you appreciate. You strike me as a a selfmade man, milord, despite your noble background. From Master of Protocol to Major Domus to the throne of the Caesar himself." Her voice trailed away.. "What goals will you have left?"
[size=84][color=darkred]This character has resigned and is now a NPC.[/color]
Avatar by Liz Green[/size]
As the champagne disappeared, Andolin was set to conjure another bottle ... and another. It was to be an evening of free discussion and nothing loosened the lips as well as champagne. The bubbly drink seemed so harmless, yet it had a potent punch to the unwary. Frankly, Andolin had not tasted any until he arrived at court. He had thought it little different than wine with bubbles, but the ladies seemed to enjoy it more.
Whether one could get drunk in a dream was something that could be debated by philosophers, but Andolin seemed to be feeling the effect. Perhaps it was because his mind expected the result, perhaps it was a true effect on an aetheric mind.
"Yes, it is fortunate she did not return." He did not explain why.
"So the Azarins are forgotten already in the Mouth?" he asked with mock surprise. "It has been only 30 years or so since my father's absence. Older than you or I. The Count Foulques-Nerra was ever the family rival. I don't suppose their family fell under hardship," he mused aloud.
"So, your father never told you of the First Duke Azarin? The mighty Gryphon slayer? And the Second Duke? There was a ditty I learned about him. It went something like this:
And there on the battlefield stood Azarin
His enemies' legs all set to tremblin'
Bad if you die, slain by Ironheart's worth
Worse if you live, left for Ironheart's mirth... "
He gave Rosalie another smile as he sipped some more. "A real gentleman that one," he laughed. "I would be the 12th Duke, if I were so inclined to claim the rights. But, I find my prospects grander here," he added without the need for further explanation.
"No, I do not follow the One," he admitted softly. "I acknowledge all the gods," he hastened to add with mirth. "There is no use in offending any."
"As for my goals, well we shall see. One always seeks to prove one's worth, no?" he declared cryptically before refilling her glass and his.
"But how rude of me to dominate the conversation. You must tell me of your family and your own goals and dreams." He sat back to eye her carefully in the firelight. Perhaps it was the light or the champagne, but she bore a small resemblence at that moment to another one who had held his heart, albeit briefly. It was nonsense, and likely just wishful thinking. It was a place for dreams after all.
Last edited by Andolin on Sun May 28, 2006 1:52 am, edited 1 time in total.
[i]Someone has to be in charge, so it might as well be me.[/i]
Andolin Avatar by the Nice GD
Rosalie could not help it. Pearls of laughter escaped her. A duke? In the Mouth?? The lady was well versed in protocol, enough to know that the title of Duke was reserved for the bastards and second sons of kings. As such the Western Kingdom currently only had one Duke, the former regent Eisenreich, half brother to late king Dorian. Not to mention that for Andolin's father to be absent for over 30 years from his wife.. he could hardly be Andolins father, safe for some magickal intervention. I am right. He is a selfmade man and he has conned them all. Not an ounce of shame about it either. The petite woman was quite sure he deliberately announced it to judge her reaction.
It did not lessen Rosalie's opinion of him, in fact his cleverness, the way he had found his fortune in the Empire made him all the more interesting. Now this was something else than some boring stuffy noble only claiming a birthright. Here was cunning and true enterprise Mouthie style. "That milord, was a most amusing ditty," she allowed as she let him pour more of the champagne than was wise. Rose felt strangely pliant and comfortable with what should be a complete stranger. He was not though. He was an opponent who in a curious way was the closest thing to some measure of familiarity here in this strange barbaric Empire. Perhaps she was so homesick she sought a remembrance from home where ever she could. The consul refused to analyze it.
With a giggle Rosalie leaned back "Myself milord? What is there to tell." Her eyes wandered to the fire as she remembered home, the dancing flames recreating the contours of Highton for her. "My father is a well respected councilor with a modest trade business. My brother is the flagofficer of the Condotierre, the legion of our airflotilla. They call him the hero of Kings Court. I am the first of my female relatives to accept a public function. It is.. a fairly new development." There was pride in her voice, although she carefully revealed no more than what would have been in his intelligence dossiers as far as she could surmise. "The Mouth as I know it is a place of wonderful exuberance, of espresso, carpaccio and olive tapenade, of the height of fashion with corsets and bustles creating glorious gowns. The good life."
Rosalie smiled and took another sip of her champagne, turning her face to him again, searching those dark blue eyes "It is a pity you do not remember it. Perhaps one day you will allow me to introduce you to those tastes that must seem foreign to you now."
[size=84][color=darkred]This character has resigned and is now a NPC.[/color]
Avatar by Liz Green[/size]
Sadly, Andolin had not the time to obtain any intelligence on her family; so, he was left to learning what he could from their innocent enough sounding conversation. It was only then that he learned that her brother was the Captain of the Air Flotilla. That was something interesting to know, though it was important not to let her know that he did not know.
"It is quite an honor to command the Air Flotilla. I should like to meet him I think. What more can you tell me about him?" he asked innocently. Such as his weaknesses.
"It is quite an honor as well to be a Madame Counsel for the West. I think you are being overly modest with the business of your father," he ventured with a smile and a salute of his champagne glass. He did not expect modesty from one such as her. He was fairly certain it was feigned.
"Yes, I should like to see the Mouth one day soon," he admitted. Preferrably at the head of an army. "I am very interested in sampling the delicacies offered by the West." It was said in such a way that it was suggestive, and clearly not referring to the food and drink she had mentioned. He held her gaze as he gave her a challenging smile. Perhaps it was the champagne that was making him overbold. He attempted to refill her glass in turn, hoping she would not decline.
"We have exotic things to offer here in the Empire too. I should like to show you." He sipped his champagne as he stared at her over the rim of his glass.
"For example, we have a number of fine spirits that you should sample. I am thinking that your own tastes are for something strong ... perhaps even brash. Once inside, it will warm you in a remarkable way. It will free you of uncomfortable restraints and threaten to overpower you. Yet, I judge you to be a lady that relishes the challenge that such strength presents." He sat back with a challenging smile again. The way he spoke, one would think he was describing Dortish Whiskey. Yet, he was not talking about liquor at all.
[i]Someone has to be in charge, so it might as well be me.[/i]
Andolin Avatar by the Nice GD
Rosalie was many things, but not a fool. She was hardly likely to give out vital details. Only the slips of her slightly intoxicated tongue. Her amber eyes lit up mischievously as she sweetly murmured "Have no fear, milord. I am fairly certain that you will meet Ramius soon enough. Like all gentlemen from the Mouth he has a very protective nature." The Lykos will blow the Citadel proper out of existence with its canons if you do not surrender me, you can be certain of that. He will come for me. He had yet to leave alive any suitor with less honorable intentions, let alone one who would imprison her.
The olive skinned girl smiled at Andolins salute. Her father was a tyrannical, vicious man that did away with more than one opponent via a trip in the Siccilius River, upside down. The Snake, they called him. No doubt his business extended to the less legal and more profitable side of business, but Rose had never been made privy to it, so could only guess. "My father is a well respected man who is listened to on the force of his arguments. He is a strong supporter of Magister Carloni, of the Foreign Affairs Office," Rosalie told him innocently.
"In the Mouth, milord, fathers are careful to keep their daughters in a safe, comfortable environment where they want for nothing, away from the ugliness of daily life. However, my father is an indulgent man" who, his one weakness, could not bear her tears or her pouts "so he broke with tradition in allowing me to be the first Madam Consul, because he was so mindful of my desire to make something of my life. The thought of only staying within the confines of the household, my fathers or my future husbands, depressed me. " No doubt his own ambitions played a large role. Rosalie smiled in her glass, so nice and cool that she found herself drinking its tempting content once more. She had no idea why she told the Caesar this personal side of her story. The champagne was making her loose tongued and relaxed.
He caught her gaze. Rosalie was lost in their dark blue depths, which to her was so exotic. Her tongue parched. Not looking away she held out the glass to be refilled, the motion automatic by now. There was a danger to this man that send a shiver down her spine not just of danger, but of strange quivering exhilaration. Dominicus why do you tempt your daughter so?
Rose was no virgin, but she was supposed to be. She had not been subjected to the many things that were quite normal here in the more dark libertine Empire where to some hedonism was a way of life. His suggestive words spilled over her, bringing a red blush to her cheeks that betrayed her relative innocence, something she bravely tried to ignore. "Milord," Rosalie protested with just the hint of a stammer that showed her sudden nervousness on the subject that was clearly being addressed "In the Mouth ladies are only allowed watered down wine. You would have me at a distinct disadvantage trying to... absorb it all."
Rosalie should have gotten up at that point, demanding her freedom, freedom of his company at least. Surely the notion was ridiculous. There was another in her heart, but he was so far away, it had been so long. The man before her reminded her not just of home, but of him, in some curious way, just like in any dream he would take on another personae. Rose was unable to admit defeat, unable to let go of Andolins gaze. With a gulp she drank another large portion of the soothing champagne, blaming it for the warm rush through her body.
Last edited by Rosalie Marcada on Sun May 28, 2006 10:12 am, edited 1 time in total.
[size=84][color=darkred]This character has resigned and is now a NPC.[/color]
Avatar by Liz Green[/size]
"Yes, fathers everywhere attempt to keep their daughters safe," he admitted while still holding her gaze. It was clear that she saw his gaze as a challenge and would refuse to relent. That made him smile inwardly.
"Know this, however, as my prisoner, you are anything but safe." His smile became almost feral. "Oh, fear not, you are in no mortal danger. I would be an ingracious host were I to allow your life to be threatened." No, I shall threaten something more.
"A lady that drinks watered down wine would be fearful at this moment. I don't think you are. No, you hold my gaze because you are not content with being cloistered. You need a challenge to feel alive, am I right?" Still his gaze attempted to meet hers and still he refilled their glasses with champagne. The first part of the challenge would be to see if she would resist the challenge of them both becoming more freed from their rational discourse to something more intimate.
[i]Someone has to be in charge, so it might as well be me.[/i]
Andolin Avatar by the Nice GD
Rosalie's heart beat fast. The tension was building. She did not look away "I am under no illusions, milord, " she breathed in her rough low voice that had been destroyed in childhood "You represent a danger of a whole different kind." To her reputation...to her sanity. Even if nothing happened beyond this tense conversation, spending a night in the Imperial Bedchamber was bound to spread in rumors and bring all kinds of trouble. Then again, simply being his prisoner was enough perhaps to do that.
Having already imbibed a considerable amount of champagne, Rose felt reckless. Yes, it was dangerous, but she could handle this dark mysterious man. Not letting of of his gaze, she allowed him to fill up their glasses once again, and rose hers in silent toast before taking a sip. "I will admit I like a challenge, milord," she told him over the rim of the glass "Tell me of the danger you represent. Should I swoon?" Her amber eyes twinkled with her jest.
[size=84][color=darkred]This character has resigned and is now a NPC.[/color]
Avatar by Liz Green[/size]
Returning her salute, he drank liberally as well. Laughing, but not breaking the war of gazes, he replied, "if you swoon again, I shall carry your limp form to my bed and then I will need to see to relieving you of that corset that seems to be distressing you so, and I will closely examine those fashionable bustles and gowns that you claim the Mouth is so famous for." If she doubted him, he stood ready to take action if she swooned again.
Not knowing that she had already guessed much of the danger he represented, he sought to taunt her in his own way. "You shall be spending the night as my guest here in my bedchamber. Your father and brother already would seek your release where I to keep you in another room,; but, to know that you spent your night in my chambers will be to forever ruin your reputation with them. They will blame me, instead of you. They will want to kill me ... with their own hands, I expect." The small smile on his face did not disappear.
"Would it surprise you that I do not care?" he offered lightly. "I would not beg for mercy or tell them that I never touched you. They would not believe me anyway. You are too beautiful for them to think that I could ignore you. In that, they would be correct." He was enjoying this little game even more, as the glint in his eyes might reveal.
"So, you are doomed as my prisoner, and so too am I doomed. Doomed people have a certain freedom that others do not? It makes them immune to threats. Nothing you could threaten me with tonight would have any substance. That is what makes me dangerous Rosalie." This time he used her name familiarly. He finished his champagne with a gulp, daring her to do likewise.
Leaning forward, he lightly attempted to carress her cheek with his knuckles. "A woman who drank only watered down wine would be trembling in fear by now. Do you fear me?" he asked softly.
[i]Someone has to be in charge, so it might as well be me.[/i]
Andolin Avatar by the Nice GD
When he told her word for word what he would do upon her next lady like swoon he created a vision in her head of being slowly undressed and then subjected to his slow and leisurely passion. His prisoner. To do with as he pleased. Rosalie had to blink to lose that image in her head, the alcohol making it difficult to concentrate, her limbs strangely pliant, her amber eyes half closed. Oh, but he is seductive and he cares not for propriety. Protocol is just a tool, one of many. Where the threat of Ranier had raised nothing but disgust, this not so very different situation had the lady of the Mouth fighting herself. She had to admit to herself it was the power that the Ceasar represented that made the difference....the power that was in his gaze that held her still.
Then he continued to remove the ground from right under her. Her sharpest tool had always been the threat of not just physical violence but mortal endings. Mouth ladies were inviolate, sometimes to their own regret. They were already doomed, both of them. Rosalie gulped down a large part of her glass to give herself posture.
Rose did not move when Andolin touched her cheek, did not jerk her head away or turn to lean into his embrace. No, she was his prisoner and if he wanted to assert his right he would have to conquer her. If she was honest it would take very little to satisfy her pride, but she could simply not surrender without a fight. Idely she wondered if he knew that. "I do not fear you Andolin" she said hoarsely.
The consul had one card left to play, a final bit. Moving slowly, she withdrew the dark orb from the folds of her gown, twirling it between her fingers between their faces. "Am I to believe then that you would willingly play the game of your advisor? To marry the girl of the west after a night of pleasure, for reputations would demand it, rather than your death.. which I'm sure would be very satisfying for Ramius, but the Snake would not allow it for it would not repair the damage done."
Rosalie laughed, edging on the Ceasars pride "You would scarcely believe what the dark sorceress promised for my cooperation. Then again.. I think you know you can trust no-one here at court. I do believe she sees you as her personal puppet. She gave me this orb to call upon her at any one time." The thought of doing so in the middle of what might even be even a pleasant, and no doubt a very exciting, encounter was quite against the protocol of ravishment, but perhaps with this premature exposure she could salvage something yet.
Rosalie could only hope that the prospect of marriage did what it did to most men... make them run like the Nether. If he didn't she would not have anything left to stop him with, nor was she sure she wanted to. There was a certain charm to this situation that had grown on her with every sip of champagne, although she would rather die than admit it.
Last edited by Rosalie Marcada on Mon May 29, 2006 12:06 am, edited 1 time in total.
[size=84][color=darkred]This character has resigned and is now a NPC.[/color]
Avatar by Liz Green[/size]
So, Fauna had been bargaining behind his back. Really, she was quite the ingrate. When he had found her, she was nothing but a fugitive from the University. She had nowhere to go. He offered her his protection and patronage, and how did she repay it? Treachery. A pity. Andolin valued loyalty. That was why he sought to find people who were needful, so he could lift them up and bask in their gratitude. It appeared that Fauna needed to be taught the meaning of gratitude. He could only wonder whether the blond sorceress was this way in the Tether.
As for Rosalie, the power of the aether made Andolin feel like a god. The heavy consumption of champagne did little to lessen this heady feeling. Like most men drunk on power and spirits, Andolin was feeling particularly cavalier about the consequences of anything that happened in this bedroom.
"My assistant has her own agenda. Sadly, only some of the time does it include me.," he noted wryly. "You are right to question her motives."
"Marriage?" he offered lightly in response to her recommendation. He held her gaze, but he stood before her, trying to get her to rise similarly before him.
"Marriage is the coward's way Rosalie. I shall marry whom I please for whatever reason I please." He was heady with his own power and having her as his prisoner. "If you want me to give you flowers and write you sonnets in this moment, then you will be left unfulfilled. No, I am a man with an eye for quality. When I see something I want ... I take it," he breathed hoarsely. "Whether you care to admit it or not, you can only give yourself to someone that has the power to demand it." It was all he could do to prevent a satisfied chuckle from emitting from his lips.
"The last time it was mentioned that you marry me, you swooned. This time, I will make you swoon without the mention of marriage." His finger lightly traced her jawline as he spoke.
Dropping his finger to the neckline of her bodice, he began to trace a slow meandering path to her cleavage. "Now tell me what you want Rosalie. Is it marriage that you wish to share with me this night?" he taunted softly.
[i]Someone has to be in charge, so it might as well be me.[/i]
Andolin Avatar by the Nice GD
Your dream though. Changes are easily made.