Returning to Solterra hadn't been on my agenda in a while. It feels foreign to me now, like something out of a dream, when in reality, I have probably only been gone a year or less. The desert sands welcome each footstep, despite my heart aching more and more for the song of the sea. I find myself hating land the more I spend time on it. I am a predator beneath the water and there are less creatures to challenge me there unlike here. But what they don't realize is that I'm a predator here too.
This is how it feels when I step into the dining room of some Solterran noble. I never kept up with the names when I lived here because it didn't matter to me. I stayed as far away from the Court as I could and all that mattered was getting paid. I have since broken my ties with Vendetta and the job (which I'm sure she wasn't too happy about, but I don't really care) so I had no reason to come back, until now.
There had been an advertisement for dating- a pretty pathetic one at that. It read like something a desperate man had written in a rush. That's probably why I couldn't resist putting my name in the pool just to see how terrible the outcome would be. I figured if whoever I was paired with for a "date" was irritating enough, I'd just lure them to the sea and be done with them there. Of course, there's always a small chance that fate could actually pair me with someone worth my time, but that chance is very small.
All I have is a note with a name on it, but the name already escapes me when I see a man by the bar of this party. He stands out among all the lavish decorations of this noble house, but somehow still blends in among all the gold. He is not who I'm supposed to meet tonight, but he's someone I'd much rather meet with. I drop the piece of paper on the floor and walk over.
"Hello traveller," I say, my voice sweet like the wine I can smell in the air. I remember his name, but I also remember our last conversation. The way he spoke of monsters and his search of myths among his travels. I am so tired of meeting those who live in Courts because they are all the same. Not Torix- I can tell he does not belong to a Court and makes his own code. I'm dying to know what that code is.
Without asking for permission, I take the seat next to him and study the menu for a moment. Perhaps I'm the one out of place here, but I do not show it. I order a drink that promises a smell of spices but tastes sweet. "Have you been alone here long?" I can't deny he has some handsome qualities, so it would be sort of a shame if he didn't have a date this evening.
you think you are possessing me but I've got my teeth in you.
I
see everything.
I don’t know everything—as good a job I do convincing everyone otherwise. But I do see everything. It’s my party, after all, and if anything goes wrong I’ll be holding myself responsible for it. Any embarrassment will follow me into my nightmares; there is nothing I hate more than being made a fool of.
But so far things are going swimmingly. (I tap my glass against the nearest piece of wood, part of the doorjamb, as I think this, a stupid commoner’s habit I haven’t quite shed from childhood.) So I’m in a good mood when I see her enter—a tallish, svelte woman clothed entirely in black, with feathered wings and two large curving horns.
She walks up to my brother's boy toy—Vercingtorix, I think his name is—and studies the menu. I watch curiously from a distance. Eventually, I see her order from a passing server, and I'm mildly amused by the fact that she picks the first one, bubbling and pale gold in a wine glass.
At least she'll have someone to pick up after her.
OOC: unfortunately, pilate has (accidentally or not) made drink #1 "lightly poisonous". Lucinda will likely feel sick the rest of the night, but it's up to you, Layla, to decide what symptoms she has, how severe they are, and how long they'll last. if you have any questions or concerns, let me know; otherwise, have fun <3
09-08-2020, 05:13 PM - This post was last modified: 09-08-2020, 05:17 PM by Pilate
He was supposed to be an angel but they took him from that light and turned him into something hungry, something that forgets what his hands are for when they aren’t shaking.
T
onight, I am monstrous.
I cannot help but feel like a lion in a flock of lambs; everywhere I glance reveals a partygoer made soft by overabundance. They adorn themselves in rich silks and furs; their jewelry winks boldly at ears and throats and brows, so that every patron appears bejeweled or crystalline.
I understand, as a soldier, the true ephemerality of such luxuries. I cannot help but imagine beneath the bright glamour quite a different image: the broken glass, the fallen chandelier, luxurious furs shredded, gold looted, diamonds covered in blood.
It is not in my nature to arrive at the Ieshan’s estate and find my way immediately to Adonai; I suppose it is a matter of pride, that has me lingering at the bar and observing with a sharp eye all those who come and go.I suppose it is more in my nature to plan (this is where my mind goes, when it is unoccupied; this is where my mind goes, when it is left to wander) exactly how I would siege the Ieshan’s palace. I catalogue the strategies I would use; the method of the assault, and the stages of the battle. When that is no longer enough, I begin to judge the individual patrons at my leisure.
What I see overwhelmingly disgusts me; on Oresziah, no one is rich. Even the wealthiest of politicians were first military men; the women do not wear mink coats or gleaming snakeskin. There was little or no jewelry in my homeland; what existed was always simplistic, and seeing firsthand the overabundance of these Solterra nobles unsettles me.
My musings are interrupted by a sudden, sweet voice. Hello traveller.
I recognise her instantaneously and cannot help the wolfish smile that takes over my face.
Have you been alone long?
“Too long,” I admit. “Please, join me.” She does not need the invitation. She has already sat beside me; she begins to skim the menu, and I glance at her from my peripheral. She orders a drink, and Adonai’s brother delivers it not long after. The bar, at this time, is busy; he is not there for long, before he is serving another guest. We are left in silence. I sip fine bourbon from my crystal glass and meet her eyes above the rim. “Well, Lucinda. You are far from the sea. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Perhaps my earlier imaginings of war are not so distant from my current circumstance. I should find it strange a water horse is the only creature I find familiar (and perhaps even relatable) at the event.
"Too long" he says, and Lucinda truly finds that hard to believe. Then again, perhaps the two of them stand out too much in this palace. Once she had been royal, but even they had never worn anything quite as exquisite as the Ieshans and their guests. The kelpie is here with only her staff made of carved wood and labradorite and her glowing gaze. There are no jewels that adorn her, no special silks. Perhaps before she had been turned she would seek out a merchant so she could be dressed for the occasion, but now, she doesn't feel that would be necessary. This could be why she finds herself drawn to the man because he too doesn't seem to care. When she feels the gazes of others, she looks back with the gaze of a killer.
She receives her drink from the bartender and takes a small sip. The scents of cinnamon and nutmeg fill her nose, but what touches her tongue is something sweet, almost sickly sweet. It's certainly unique, but she's not sure how she feels about it.
"Well, I was quite disappointed that I didn't receive an invitation. I heard some whispering about this lavish party at the Ieshans and knew I just had to crash it," she explains to him, her sharp teeth glistening. Lu leaves out the part that she was supposed to meet someone here for a date since they were no longer important. "I have not decided yet how I'd like to enjoy myself." There were many options here. She could spend the night with Torix with what may be all small talk and drinks Maybe he would act like a gentleman and ask her to dance. However, her alternate plan of actually crashing the party would likely be more fun. Watching all these rich idiots scream in terror would just delight her soul. Lu looks at Torix then, wondering if he has any sharp weapons with him.
There is a twinge starting at the pit of her stomach, but she dismisses it for hunger. So far, she has not realized that the Solterran boy poisoned her drink and takes another sip.
He was supposed to be an angel but they took him from that light and turned him into something hungry, something that forgets what his hands are for when they aren’t shaking.
J
ust as she did last time, Lucinda makes me feel more myself than anyone else I have met thus far. It is only due to her species; it is because beneath her exterior, velveteen and austere, I recognize my personal foil. I am more awake; more electric; the danger is real, is intoxicating, and:
How can I be having a conversation with the very thing I am sworn to destroy?
Neither of us belong here.
I can imagine that from a glance, we appear to: despite our lack of adornment, are are both naturally beautifully. She, with her striking green eyes and her raven-sleek, raven dark coloring. Even her staff, made of understated wood, possesses a sense of majesty.
(I have always wondered why predators are so beautiful. It is not as if the lion must lure the buffalo with his handsome mane, or bright gold eyes—nor does the wolf require such striking nobility. So why, I wonder, must Lucinda possess an elegance that surpasses any other woman here? Why must the spider weave such an intricate web? The orca sing such a keen song? Why does her gem-sharp gaze show forests and emerald seas, and death, death, death?)
Well, I was quite disappointed that I didn’t receive an invitation. I heard some whispering about the lavish party at the Ieshans and knew I just had to crash it.
I offer a smile that is small and dark. I glance sidelong, sipping my drink as she sips hers. I do not mention Adonai’s invitation; it seems unnecessary. “I find it is almost better to not receive an invitation to such frivolities. This way, when you bore of them, you’re more difficult to track down.” I know my expression. I know it, because I have worn it for what seems like hundreds of these occasions; my eyes alight with humor and mischief, my smile bright but roguish, daring. It says, let’s dance with wolves tonight, let’s play with fire.
Let’s burn the whole damn place down.
I have not yet decided yet how I’d like to enjoy myself.
I take another drink, unaware of what concoction Lucinda herself sips. “Give me the options,” It emerges half a question and half a demand.
I am reminded, however, that it is unlikely any of them are good.
There is something wild awakening in Lucinda as she spends time with this man. It's more than just attraction. She can see it in his eyes that he must share the same penchant for mischief and chaos. While she's had her fun with Anandi, she is nothing like Torix. She hasn't fully embraced the monster that she is and it takes begging and provoking for Lucinda to get that out of her. With this man, it seems he's already well aware.
"My thoughts exactly," she says, her lashes blinking slowly at him. There is a part of her that wants to devour him just for being the way he is, but she knows then it'd be very unlikely she'd ever find someone to share this part of herself with.
Her vision starts to blur and now she is suspicious of her drink. The kelpie takes one look at the glass, then to the bartender, and then back to Torix. "Well, for starters, I think that man slipped something into my drink, so it might be fun to kill him. Unless of course," she pauses and begins to sound more accusatory, "There's something you would like to tell me." Lu softens and looks to the crowd. Part of her hopes she didn't fall for some kind of trick by this man, especially since they seemed to be getting along well enough. She doesn't want to have to kill him.
"Otherwise, it might be fun to set this place on fire." Although everything is still becoming blurrier by the second, she manages to conjure the illusion of green fire between them. It looks as if it's coming up from the ground and beginning to consume the table they're sitting at.
He was supposed to be an angel but they took him from that light and turned him into something hungry, something that forgets what his hands are for when they aren’t shaking.
J
ust as she did last time,
This encounter should sicken me; I should be revolted by the ease with which I brush shoulders with monsters, with those I once hunted. Instead, I am relieved. It is a sloughing of skin; a shedding of a shape I do not fit well in. The fire, the hunger, the unease in this frivolous setting; all of it makes me ache.
(And yet, this same evening, Adonai will play me the lyre and I will try not to weep. He will take me to a room full of leather and swords, and I will cast my eyes from them).
I can be nothing but contradictions.
Well, for starters, I think that man slipped something into my drink, so it might be fun to kill him. Unless, of course, there’s something you would like to tell me.
My eyes flit over her and I raise my brow. “Do I strike you as the type of man to resort to poisons? Lucinda, I am insulted.” The mock contempt curls my lips wryly and yet her jest reminds me, simultaneously, of what she is to me.
An enemy.
Nevertheless, she looks so differnet from the Khashran. And though she whets me like a blade, there is none of the amorphous subtleties, none of the suggestions that she might at any moment become something else.
“Fire? That is an interesting choice, for a water horse.” I toast my drink to her as the fire flickers between us. (It is a feat of magic in and of itself that I do not flinch from the casual display). “Or do you identify more as a sorceress?”
If I am unsettled by the licking flames, I do not show it so visibly.
(And yet, I cannot help but wonder—is this whole damn place mad? Fire at the table, poison in the drinks?)
The kelpie doesn't trust hardly anyone these days, not since her kingdom had been destroyed and she had been thrown over to Novus. Even then, only her brother and Abraxia had ever truly been loyal to her and now it's just Lucinda and her dragon. Sometimes there are those who she can tolerate, like Vendetta who she worked with for a time. The money had been generous, but the job quickly became boring. It had been what led her to the sea and somehow, fate knew to lead Anandi there too. Now, it's hard to believe she spent so much time in the lands where the sea seemed so far away.
While Torix is not one of those she fully trusts, she sees something in him that she wants more of. Whether it's to learn more or to devour it. He seems more methodical than someone who would use poison in a drink. Even then, maybe she would not be so disappointed if he did it to lure her somewhere in the dark. He would quickly learn the mistake he made.
"I suppose not," is all she says, fighting through the feeling that the entire room is now spinning. She wonders how much more beautiful it would look if her fire consumed it like a destructive tornado. Although she is a water horse, fire is perhaps her favorite element of all. It's the most destructive and the most wild. The sea is her home, but there are endless possibilities once a fire is set loose.
Unfortunately, her fire is merely an illusion and it disappears with a blink, leaving the table unscathed. "Sorceress is more like it," she tells him with a smile on her face.
Then, she attempts to stand but it's clear that the poison has worked a good way through her body. Lucinda is a bit disappointed in herself for being tricked and surely doesn't want to look like a drunken mess while leaving this party. She looks at Torix then, her green eyes looking more hopeful than usual.
"Would you care to escort me out? It seems I won't get my chance at chaos tonight." And she truly is disappointed because this rich palace would look so much better in green.
He was supposed to be an angel but they took him from that light and turned him into something hungry, something that forgets what his hands are for when they aren’t shaking.
P
erhaps I notice subtle differences in her demeanor; but truly, if she asked, I would say I hadn’t. I suppose not. The fire disappears just as quickly. Sorceress is more like it, she admits. It is clear at that point, despite her smile, there is something more beneath the surface. I am still surprised when she attempts to stand and does not succeed, collapsing back into her chair.
I must confess, I am impressed by her sustained poise. I offer a polite, albeit contrite, smile. “A shame, Lucinda.” Yet, I rise and offer her my shoulder. It unsettles me—and perhaps awakens me—to have a water horse so close to my throat. Yet, the civility of Lucinda is of a sort I have not yet encountered in her kind. I have come to recognize the water horses of Novus are different than those of my homeland, and worth, perhaps, more study.
I guide us through the dancing and the busier portions of the party, until we are out into the open air. The night is cool, and fragrant. “I was so looking forward to the chaos of tonight. Perhaps another time, then?”
Now, I smile. And as always, the smile hardly belongs on the face of a man, but instead, a wolf.
She is trying her best to keep her composure so as to not draw too much attention. Before, Lucinda would revel in the idea of everyone's eyes on her as she destroyed their lovely party. Now that she's all out of sorts, she would much rather leave in the shadows and come back at a better time. At least now she knows not to trust the drinks anymore in Solterra.
And it is a shame because she felt like she was getting somewhere with Torix and she thinks he felt the same too. They could've made so much chaos together.
"Perhaps another time, then?"
Lucinda smiles back, already feeling stronger with the rush of cool air on her skin. "Absolutely," she says and moves away from his shoulder. Her balance is still off, but she doesn't need to depend on him any longer. "You'll know where to find me." She shows him her teeth for a moment and then leans in to kiss him on the cheek. It takes everything in her to pull away and not bite his throat after being so close to it. She is still hungry for chaos.
Another time, another time.
So she leaves him there, as much as her bloodlust forbids it to go find a place to rest for the night. Her sea is calling her back and, hopefully, it will call Torix back to her too.
