we are a different kind, we can do anything
we could be heroes, me and you, we could be
Befitting of the court and goddess she so loyally served, the stormsinger prowled the shadows of the City of Starlight as night began to fall. Her hooves clicked against the smooth stone as she walked, her breathing even, as her eyes flashed brightest blue in the darkness. A wraith, a contender, a protector. The air that washed across her skin was blissfully cool, but the demeanor she bore was of a dragon that could burn cities to ash. She was honed thunderstorms, her emotions in check, as her anger and violence was chained into an invisible armor around her heart. Beside her walked the source of her rage; a man gilded in onyx and topaz, a man that had entered her king's kingdom from a foreign land. A criminal, despite the petty theft. No crime, however small, would be brushed to the side.. not while she was her court's Champion. Not for as long as she strode to deal justice in any manner that formed.
Her orbs simmered like blue flames, a muscle twitching in her upper lip as her gaze landed on the entrance to the Keep. The Castle of Night was not illuminated in moonlight and stardust; for tonight, indigo clouds covered the sky, the crescent moon hiding behind a blanket of shadow and the stars twinkling far, far out of sight. The Keep itself was a daunting place, intimidating even in day, but now.. without the silver light glowing at it's edges, it was a stark place that awoke a chained part of her soul. Torches flickered along the alleyways, their orange glows reflecting off of the stone walls and on her ebony skin, creating sharp angles and pools of obsidian as she melted from shadow to shadow with ease. Her companion, her prisoner, for lack of a better term, at her side and slightly ahead of her. So she could keep her gaze pinned on him, her wings slightly unfurled to create a wall of muscle and feathers should he decide to run.
Not that she guessed he would make the same mistake a second time.. but Aislinn was not taking any chances.
Solitary guards allowed them entrance as they entered the bottom level of the castle. She whispered slight instructions, leading them to the heart of the Keep, to where her king would stand and decide the man's fate. Her heart thundered and her blood roared, singing and proud and defiant, as they drew closer to their destination. Ahead of them, two large oak doors groaned as they entered the great hall, her chin rising as she stepped through them. Her eyes landing on the dais and the Shadow Throne, and the man she knew was somewhere in the slithering dark.
An amused grin played at her lips as she stopped, bowing deeply with a slender leg outstretched, wings splayed at her sides. "The criminal, as requested, Your Grace," she said by way of greeting, as she lifted herself with orbs of blue on the shadows clinging between torches of firelight.
@Only @lavinia @reichenbach @morrígan (should you wish) + @kasil (for your SA) <3 trial for the events of this thread! "Aislinn speech."
Only fought her most of the way but much to his dismay no matter how hard he tried he could not get past her or her Great reach with such powerful wings to cage him whenever he tried to bolt. Even now, as Aislinn leads him down a dark and narrow, stone-walled path he wants to fight her - to turn away. It becomes clearer and clearer (as clear as Aislinn's crystal-blue eyes) that he is not from around here (or Delumine even, when was the last time he was 'home'?) - or anywhere familiar enough to even try and remotely find common ground.
"What madness is this! Why must I see a King? Are we not free?" His ideas are feral, a noble busker by day and a terrible fink by night, he lives for himself as he always has and it has never been a problem until now. The idea of being captured and sentenced for living lawlessly seems awfully daunting and it only takes one swift shove from Aislinn to have Stephan laughing at him about it as well.
Such a fool. Stephan cackles madly in the middle of Only's racing thoughts and it only furthers the paranoia that the black stallion starts to feel. Only twists and turns against her but a thick beam of feathers cuff him against the chest and push him forward. The warrior who walks him to justice can only smile her tempestuous smile. You wicked woman, he wants to say but holds his tongue. There is something about Aislinn that Only hates to appreciate.
Is it the bunches of hair she holds in elegant grips and gathers of flowers, baubles, and jewels? Does it remind him of all the lightning storms he slept under a lifetime ago or does it remind him of buttercream girls with beehives for heads? Something that he cannot quite put his knife on. And Lavinia too, something beneath the quiet calm in both of their faces leave him on edge - as if they know something he doesn't know. He feels like an intruder, an outcast in the worst kind of way. The unwanted kind of way.
The joke's on him because that is the truth and he hasn't figured it out quite yet.
"I will go back to the river, please just let me go. I don't even know where I am - please. I'll tell you anything you want - anything, just let me go." He pleads and pleads the way weasels do when they swindle their squirrely neighbors out of their winter caches knowing they'll die without them. The stone walls feel like they are closing in on him with how tall they are - in a way this kind of darkness makes him feel hopeless enough to want Stephan to save him. He gives Aislinn as much of a hard time as he possibly can before she brings him to doors that are big in a way that makes him think about dragons. He would think about his old friend Henry if he wasn't so distracted by how Aislinn's eyes glitter electric and bright in the dark.
"Please I - I just thought about doing it - I didn't actually mean to take their knives. Haven't your thoughts come to life yet? I have seen it in others. I don't know how to control it." Lies, lies, lies-lies-lies, all he can do is lie. All he can do is give lousy excuses. His golden feet dance nervously as he spins and tries his best to avoid the door. Only is agile even in the crook of her reach. It takes two - three of these Night-creatures to coral him off until he has no choice but to go forward. Out of desperation, a sweep of his long blonde tail flicks out wildly as the very last bits of him struggle to stay on the other side of the door.
"I want my phone call!" Only calls out into the night but his odd request surely falls upon deaf ears for the phrase as foreign as the dawn-court thief is in this bat country.
@Florentine - if you'd like to represent him/if a representative is needed for trial!
( ooc: I hope you don't mind the struggle he puts up! He would inflict no damage nor be successful because Aislinn could probably bend him in half. I would not mind him being exiled, marked for this, or imprisoned for this for however long you deem fit - feel free to peep at me if you have any questions! No maiming or death penalties please!)
Shadows clung to his mahogany skin as the sounds of shrieking and pleading echoed down the hall toward him, the sounds emanating through the heavy oak doors of the Throne room despite their considerable thickness. Reichenbach watched, motionless within the depths of Calligo's embrace, silver eyes gleaming through the darkness like the stars themselves as he waited for the doors to swing open. A heavy groan sounded through the hall, followed by the delicate tap of sharp, hard hooves - Aislinn took up all the space in the room as she entered, filling the hall with the essence of storms and shadow. She seemed more vibrant than the last time he had seen her, sparkling with a fierce eloquence, her scent shimmering from her, burning the air like lightning.
Aislinn liked catching thieves.
Funny, that she protected a whole city of them. Yet Reichenbach knew that the warrior woman would defend Denocte and all it's citizens to her last breath, despite their thievery, despite the debauchery, despite all of their downfalls. They were lucky to have her. He was lucky to have her.
Reichenbach emerged slowly, thunder roiling through his veins at the thief before him - not for the theft he had committed, but for whom he had attempted to steal from. His Orphans, his Crows... his Lavinia. The twins were faithful and fiercely loyal, their skills so developed for how young they were - their talents... inspiring. Lavinia, with her perfect figure and flawless hair, her knife throwing skills like none he had seen in this world so far... those knives were hers. He had gifted them to her when she joined the Crows, a new set made from Veteris steel to shove into the guts of anyone who threatened her.
Only was lucky that she hadn't gutted him on discovery.
The shadows slipped from his back like a cloak, draping his quarters as the light revealed his broad shoulders and chest, crowning his ebony curls in flickering firelight. Now it was his turn to take up space in the vast room, stepping slowly but surely down the dais to stand before the wide-eyed thief.
"So"
He began, baritone voice booming through the Shadow Hall like some great heartbeat, melodic and beautiful.
"You made the... rather ill-advised choice, of stealing from a country of thieves and assassins. From my Court."
Amusement coloured his enigmatic voice, though his argent gaze remained cool as he stared down at the Deluminian. Had he been successful in stealing those knives, Reichenbach might have considered training him with the rest of the Crows... but he had not been. He had chosen to steal from one of the worst citizens of Denocte to steal from. Reich flicked his gaze to the open door, where the others waited, all eyes burning into his night-dark skin. He grinned at them, ever the jovial, charming Thief King.
Kasil had not arrived yet - theirs was a new alliance, still fragile. It would not do to punish Only before the Dawn King arrived on his impressively vast wings. The Night King pushed his gaze past the doors to Lavinia's sharp eyes, asking;
Lavinia had followed Aislinn back to the court..to her home. The young youth kept glancing towards the thrashing of the 'victim' and merely gave a snort at his antics. He was nothing short of a fool in her eyes and she wanted him to be punished for trying to steal something so dear to her heart. And also..because her pride was hurt. No one had ever dared tried to steal from her, she was the one that did the stealing. The keep of Denocte came into view and Lav let out a small sigh of relief at seeing her home.
Her ears twitched towards Only as he struggled and whined to them both and only narrows her eyes in on him. "Why should you be free when you stole something precious to me?" She hissed low and her tone spoke of the anger and annoyance she felt towards the fool as they stepped through the gates of the keep. Her hooves clanged softly against the stone floors and Lavinia lifted her head, choosing to ignore the cowardly stallion.
As they finally reached the Throne room and her King of Crows, Lavinia turned her gaze away from the sputtering fool to gaze upon her king. She owed this man her life and she was as loyal to him as she was to her sister. And she had almost lost the very knives her King had gifted to her. When Reichenbach turned to her and asked the question she knew was coming, she gave a swift nod. Her golden hued eyes lifting to look her king in the face, "Yes my king.. I was in the middle of a dance when he struck. He..took me by surprise." Perhaps a bit grudgingly she admitted this, but she admitted it nonetheless.
@Aislinn @Only @Reichenbach @Kasil
"this here is your speech colour!
we are a different kind, we can do anything
we could be heroes, me and you, we could be
She wore her smile like a wicked dagger; her gaze equally as sharp as Veteris steel, honed and pinned on the darkness that slithered before her. As she watched, captivated, her heart beating steady and true, as the darkness balked and morphed to form the shape of a man. A king cloaked in shadow and smoke and stars, the inky black crafted between torches flirting with his skin. The only part of him that shone, like a beacon in the darkness, were his eyes. Like molten silver moons, and one shining star set perfectly between them.
Once upon a time, she had fallen for him. Tumbled head first into the madness of love and feelings that set her heart heavensward. Her heart was wrapped around that glimmering star, her lungs catching on the baritone of his voice and the tinkling of coins tangled in the curls of his hair. Now, after his voice had cleaved her into pieces and she was left with a bleeding heart and broken soul, she rose. Like a phoenix, from the ashes of the ache that had ripped her and thrown her into shadows. Florentine's words of wisdom rung true.. time did heal such things. Time and a boy crafted from twilight and dusk itself.
Regardless of what she had once felt, regardless that a small part of her would always care about him, her duty sang louder. Loyalty, fierce and burning, laced through every nerve and molecule of her being. Before she was a gypsy girl who fell in love with a gypsy boy, she would be a knight, a warrior woman of thunderstorms themselves. Forever protecting and laying down her life for the man who sat upon the Shadow Throne. The same man that stood before them now, emerging from the darkness. A true embodiment of the court he ruled and the goddess that blessed his rise to power.
He was the King of Stars and Smoke, after all.
So.. You made the... rather ill-advised choice, of stealing from a country of thieves and assassins. From my Court.
His voice rumbled through the Great Hall, across the cold stones. Deep and piercing. Intimidating. A weapon. Her orbs blinked and shimmered in the flickering firelight as she watched him. Circlets of blue flame that narrowed on the thief that stood before her king, awaiting judgement. Her mouth closed, a thin line across the ebony of her face as one side of her lips turned upwards, amused. Not in any universe, would she ever wish to be on the receiving end of her King's wrath, or her own, for the matter. And as her gaze shot over to the young girl at her side, Aislinn realized, with a shed of curiosity, that she would not want to be on the wrong side of one of the golden girl's beloved blades.
The young woman's admittance was enough, as she recalled the memory herself. Her disgust for the creature who committed the theft was palpable, washing over her in thick waves. She shot him a pointed look before she stepped forward, just barely, her face schooled as she met Reichenbach's silver stare. "He stole from her in plain sight; in the middle of a crowded square."
Aislinn broke her gaze and blinked to look at the obsidian man before him, her grin quirking. Her voice a crackle of lightning; her essence tied to hurricanes and night skies. "He knew exactly what he was doing, my King."
Calligo help him.. for she was more than ready to deal where justice must be made.
He has nothing to say. Not yet. Reichenbach stands like a judge before him and oddly enough Only feels calm in front of him. The Night King is a someone and not a something as he originally thought and so, he tries to appeal to him like the stranger he is with honesty. Reichenbach's presence is a cooling relief compared to the firestorm that brought him in.
The trick to being a good thief is never getting caught.
A trick to never getting caught is to never be suspected in the first place.
The trick to never being suspected - well, Only cannot give away every secret he keeps inside of that dark black brain of his. He accepts that they think he is doltish and unwise. Quietly he listens, eyes discreetly taking inventory while the allegations start stacking up against him. Between Aislinn and Lavinia's pleas, the voice that belongs to Stephan quiets down knowing now that Only has become successful here - but how?
Later, reassures Stephan, his voice one of great Reasoning in situations like this. I'll explain everything later, he says.
Only keeps a cool look but he cannot help but wonder when Dawn will show up to represent him. Maybe they won't - he hasn't been home since the day he arrived and he has been wandering farther and farther away from it. Now here he is, caught in the clutches of the farthest reaches in Novus. And my oh my! -- how they hold him in a pair of proverbial handcuffs. Still, despite all of that which goes against him here in this moment, Only cannot help but think about how rich he can get off of the jewelry that Reichenbach's ears are laden with.
He stole from her in plain sight; in the middle of a crowded square,
-he knew exactly what he was doing, my King.
Aislinn's plea is solid, he has nothing to go against her with, and Lavinia's words echo in his mind as he tries to find his voice. Lavinia raises a good question - should he be able to go free? There are so many lies he could use - so many excuses he can make to get out of this - but why? He decides to speak up at long last lest he hold his tongue forever.
"If your aim is to imprison me then I declare my rights to be represented by Florentine of the Dusk Court -- Delumine and I are complete strangers." Only not knowing his own court well-enough to trust them is a shameless admission, although on the inside he wonders if that will hurt him more in the end by having no loyalties except to those who are personal friends of his. He shifts his weight uncomfortably off of his charred foot - he'll be limping for days but he refuses to let the pain show through the clarity he tries to maintain while addressing his jury.
But now, for his plea - and he prepares for it to fall upon deaf ears.
"I chose thieves and assassins because everywhere else I have gone it has been .." he hangs on what he is about to say as if considering the weight of his words against the crime he has committed ".. not very challenging." Only lifts his head and bravely meets the Night King's steady gaze with one of his own despite how hard it is to look the man in the face after making such a loud fuss in the halls not long ago. If he was courageous enough to knowingly enter Denocte with the intent to filch off of an unbeknownst Crow, then he could certainly be brave enough to look into the eyes of a man who would ultimately decide his fate.
"I could have buried those knives in your kidneys while I had them in my control - and I didn't. I consider - that - a right choice. " Only turns and affixes a very sober golden-eyed look upon Lavinia. He does not hate her nor does he find her anger or distrust in him to be misdirected either. He knows he deserves it - now if only he could find the compassion to truly apologize to her but even he thinks that words are meaningless right now.
"You can have my knife, if you want, but technically it isn't mine either and we'd both be stealing. But fair is fair and where I come from, I owe it to you to take my belongings." Someone else's blade slips from the looms of his golden hair which has kept it safe and out of sight this whole time. It clatters loudly against the stone floor at his front feet and he makes no attempts to pick it up. At most, a pale touch of telekinesis sends it away from him and to Lavinia's feet where it sparkles in guilty-golden silence.
Ooc: I hope you didn't mind me jumping back in at this point. D: Also, feel free to either recognize the knife he is offering to Lavinia or not, it's just an improv to keep things interesting. I didn't tag Morrigan, I wasn't sure how to get the funky 'i' in there on their name. Sorry!
