Seraphina pretends not to notice the lackadaisical disbelief in his posture, the faint curve of his lips. It matters little to her anyways if he believes her or not, and even less if he trusts her. For all the concern she has for Solterra’s relationship with Denocte, it fails to truly extend to compassion for his circumstances, genuine understanding of his outrage, or any true comprehension of why he might be amused by the prospect of her efforts. If she were locked up by another nation, how would she react? (Coldly, apathetically, absently, methodically, mechanically – Seraphina, after all, does not value her freedom in the same way that it seems many of her fellows do. She is a creature of constraint, and the concept of living free of such bindings, much less being obligated freedom, seems quite ridiculous to her. Another potent thing so easily taken for granted, too easily believed that it was owed.) She nevertheless listens to his words with an attentive silence, ears twitched forward to catch his words. If she wants to present a convincing case to her notoriously stubborn sovereign, she has to take whatever information he can offer. He tells her that he left immediately after the first meeting with Maxene, after seeing the rest of the herd. That aligns with what she knows of his disappearance, and she nods, but offers no further affirmation or observation.
Her next words find their way free of her lips with the same dry, clinical intonation that seems to color her speech most of the time. “And why Denocte? How did you find yourself among Caligo’s children?” He’s a foreigner – she knows that much. Perhaps he is unaware of the years of war that preluded their current relationship, all the tension and violence and bad blood. Perhaps he doesn’t understand why Solterra would feel so threatened by Caligo’s children. (In truth, she does not completely understand Maxence’s own worry, save the justifiable threat of a spy among them. He was not of Novus’s blood, after all; the ties did not run so deep in him. However, if there were a spy in their midst, then it would mean that Denocte had regarded them with mistrust even before they captured Rostislav…and mistrust would always be met with its ilk.) She regards him quietly, then, waiting for whatever answer he had to offer – how had the darkness seduced him away from the light, stolen him away to the land of stars, and all those who hid under their cover?
She would never understand the appeal, she imagines, but Seraphina is a blunt woman; better to leave everything in the light, knowing that it would be met with cruel judgement, than to attempt to obscure it beneath the shadows.
@
@Rostislav - sera'll probably be out in the next post! <3 sorry for the wait, again.
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
11-17-2017, 07:23 PM - This post was last modified: 11-17-2017, 07:30 PM by Seraphina
Seraphina remained cold and calculating. I could see it in her posture, the glint in her eye. She was intelligent but with that - stone. Not to say she was a woman with no heart, but it seemed buried deep, under lock and key. Invite only. That's fine -- I don't want in. I wondered, though, if it was just her nature to be unfeeling, if she had something personal against my 'betrayal', or.... No I couldn't put my finger on it. I simply didn't know her well enough, and she hadn't betrayed enough in our conversation for me to make any deductions. She doesn't respond to my story, and I wonder if she even believes it. I wouldn't care if I didn't think that it would somehow bring me closer to -- not being in here. Thank you Solterra, Maxence and Co. for the hospitality, but pass.
Her next question is easy. Perhaps because I don't know of the war between Solterra and Denocte. I'm a foreigner, come to Novus when I was lost and alone. Not to mention, when I first arrived I thought the place was uninhabited! No natives, only immigrants. Of course I eventually found out I was wrong.. but even that took time. I know of the Gods, of the Helovian Gods, the lands of Novus, but not the history. So my answer to her question is simplistic, innocent. "During the search for the relic of the Gods, I traveled all of Novus. At that time I thought that Solterra would be my home. In those travels I made friends, and several of them called Denocte their home. I was attracted to the land, and to those friends. When I left the desert I sought them out."
Saying it out loud brought pain into my heart. I missed them. Reich, Camdis, even Aislinn and the faces of those I barely knew. She may not have been a resident of Denocte, but I missed Weir as well. I looked away from the silver woman, in an attempt to hide my emotions in the face of her stoicism. I want to go home, Damaris. A pain that mirrored my own rose up to meet mine. I do too, Rostislav. It will be soon, I think. Her voice in my mind helped calm me, but pain still clenched my heart.
She heard him out in a patient silence, watching his expression – there was pain there, she thought, when he spoke, though he quickly turned his head away to hide it. Seraphina had never possessed a nature that was especially trusting, but she sensed no lies in his explanation. If he was guilty of anything, it was obliviousness.
Her voice came quick and easy as the crack of a whip. “I see.” Rostislav, she realized, knew nothing of the trouble he had stepped into by choosing the moon over her brother; how could he? He was of foreign blood, woefully unaware of the troubles of the citizens of Novus…woefully unaware of the blood that had been spilled before there was a Maxence or a Reichenbach, woefully unaware of the open loathing between the two nations, woefully unaware of the suspicions.
Well. Now he knew. “I can promise you that I will speak to Maxence on your behalf. Whether or not he listens…” Seraphina was not an especially honorable creature, though she held to her promises – she was just and upright under the strict restraints of law and little more, unguided by the same moralities and spiritual doctrines that seemed to sway her fellows. She worshipped at the altar of raw pragmatism and considered life as a series of causes and effects. Occasionally she considered that it was a pitiful way to live, or so she’d been told, thinking of the world as something mathematical, not something to love and embrace and enjoy, to chase with every fiber of her spirit...whatever that meant. She didn’t know. She didn’t know, and she didn’t want to know. (She thought sometimes of people that she’d met with fire. She thought of Rostislav’s rage earlier in their conversation. She thought of what Viceroy had told her to do if ever she were captured. Give them nothing. If you can escape, escape. If you cannot, bite out your tongue before they can torture you into giving anything up. If you must give up anything, give up your life. If, if, if, if… It was always a matter of clinging.)
With that, she turned, hooves clacking harshly against the sandstone. “Good day, Rostislav.” And then she was gone, a trail of silver smoke billowing out of the prison doors – and up towards the sun.
@Rostislav - me @myself, suddenly, after replying to that other thread : should probably close this thread.
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
02-21-2018, 10:32 PM - This post was last modified: 02-21-2018, 10:32 PM by Seraphina
It surprises me that there is no mockery. No snide laughter or pointed remarks. Her tone when she speaks is even. The only judgment that she throws my way is that of laughing at a child that is rather innocent in thinking. Whatever it is about what I've said seems laughable to her, but she doesn't call me out on it. Instead she offers to speak to Maxence on my behalf, which in turn seems like a poor joke. But I believe her, and I nod my head in gratitude. She rose then, but I didn't bother to follow her with my gaze. Instead I kept my head low.
'Goodbye Rostislav.'
I glance up briefly, and with a politeness I did not expect from myself, manage my reply. "Seraphina."
my close Rosti thoughts | "Rosti speech" | Damaris mindspeak
