Tuesday, 16 July 2014
“You cannot fall apart every time one of your friends is pregnant, has a baby, or you just happen to see a child. It is not practical Mira. Moreover, it is not healthy.”
“I am not falling apart,” she bit out each word, an impressive feat considering the open bottle of Fey Berry Brandy and the empty glass on the counter, not to mention the whiskey she had been tossing back on the Isle earlier.
As she reached out for the bottle, Ishmerai quickly whisked it away. “I said that was enough.”
“Let me do whatever I want!” She reached for the bottle, knocking over the glass in the process. Still, the knight kept it out of reach and she slumped forward onto the counter, easily defeated. “I just want.. I don’t want to dream about them tonight. I don’t want to dream at all.”
“You have been so much better, Mira. I thought we were finally moving past this.”
“I know. I know!” She shook her head, burying it in her arm. He had to strain to hear her voice, muffled and so very tired, “But when it hits me, it hits me so hard that I can hardly breathe.”
Intercourse
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JewellRavenlock
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Friday, 18 July 2014
Ishmerai’s careful steps still managed to disturb one or two of the empty beer bottles littering the floor of the living room, prompting Jewell to turn on the couch and groan as she shielded her face from the rising sun with her arm. “I did not know two thin women could eat so much of that pizza nonsense and drink so much beer,” the knight marveled quietly as he shifted through the mess Lain and Jewell had created with their late night pow-wow, pushing Jewell’s feet aside so he could sit on the end of the couch.
She kicked at his thighs. “Yer in my way,” The Empress grumbled as she tried to stretch out on the couch more.
“Maybe you should try sleeping in your bed next time.”
“Wasn’t sleeping,” she objected, settling for dumping her feet on his lap and using a pillow to cover her face instead.
“No. I suppose you did not sleep at all.” She dragged the pillow down to her chest where she squished it with her arms in a crushing hug. “How bad was he?”
She tilted her head back, arching her neck painfully and allowing the sun to blind her momentarily as she thought that over. She had seen many mortals entrapped by the spells of Faerie before. Under threat, she had even participated in such magic tricks. “Bad.”
“The residue of enchantment and bewitchment on his system or something more than that?”
Her teeth gnawed at the ragged mess she had made of the inside of her cheek. “Hard to say. I didn’t touch him, and I wasn’t really thinking clearly.”
“Obviously.”
Jewell snapped her head up, sending the world spinning, and looked at her knight, eyes narrowed as she tried to ascertain whether she had just been insulted or not. “What did you want me to do?” she asked defensively.
“Keep your head about you,” he replied, unphased by the pale face and red eyes of his lady. She had managed not to break down into tears with Lain present, but he was sure that they were not far off.
He was right. Her chest was heaving as she struggled to keep her emotions in check, the pillow squished flat in her arms. “You don’t understand Ishmerai! When I saw him holding that baby..” the battle was lost quickly as a tear traced a familiar path down her cheek. When Stephen had introduced Conail Kidd, the son he had always wanted, it had quickly and efficiently undone her. That was the child he had always wanted them to have, the child she would not give him, the child she was too afraid to even attempt to bring into the world. Was it not this very fear that had broken them apart? The fact that the imagined child was Diana’s and not hers was the final proof that, in Stephen’s mind as well as her own, she was a failure as both wife and mother.
The scene had been a painful reminder too that her children, the ones that Stephen had eventually viewed as his own, were lost. She saw them in each piece of porcelain that littered the floor after Lain had smashed the doll. Were the children not simply as unreal as that doll? Could not their portraits be just as easily destroyed? “I keep trying to move on without them. I keep trying to rebuild my life while I wait. I have been so so patient, Ishmerai. But how can I keep doing this? How can I continue like this when my pain is shoved into my face at each turn? My guilt?”
He waited patiently for the outburst of tears to subside before he spoke, “And what of Captain Kidd, Mira?” He did not bother to hide his disgust for the man. Who knew what damage he had done when in Faerie? If they had bewitched him, addled his mind, what did that mean for the safety of his lady’s name? He wished pointlessly that his lady had allowed him to kill the captain and put them both out of this misery.
“Who cares about Stephen Kidd?” she shouted vehemently at him through a fresh onslaught of tears. “Who cares about Stephen Kidd and his broken memories that do nothing but hurt? I told him not to go!” Jewell curled forward, burying her face against that smushed pillow. All that she had done to prevent this very circumstance had been undone. He had made her noble and selfless gestures useless. The futility of all that she had done made her sick. “I told him.”
Ishmerai’s careful steps still managed to disturb one or two of the empty beer bottles littering the floor of the living room, prompting Jewell to turn on the couch and groan as she shielded her face from the rising sun with her arm. “I did not know two thin women could eat so much of that pizza nonsense and drink so much beer,” the knight marveled quietly as he shifted through the mess Lain and Jewell had created with their late night pow-wow, pushing Jewell’s feet aside so he could sit on the end of the couch.
She kicked at his thighs. “Yer in my way,” The Empress grumbled as she tried to stretch out on the couch more.
“Maybe you should try sleeping in your bed next time.”
“Wasn’t sleeping,” she objected, settling for dumping her feet on his lap and using a pillow to cover her face instead.
“No. I suppose you did not sleep at all.” She dragged the pillow down to her chest where she squished it with her arms in a crushing hug. “How bad was he?”
She tilted her head back, arching her neck painfully and allowing the sun to blind her momentarily as she thought that over. She had seen many mortals entrapped by the spells of Faerie before. Under threat, she had even participated in such magic tricks. “Bad.”
“The residue of enchantment and bewitchment on his system or something more than that?”
Her teeth gnawed at the ragged mess she had made of the inside of her cheek. “Hard to say. I didn’t touch him, and I wasn’t really thinking clearly.”
“Obviously.”
Jewell snapped her head up, sending the world spinning, and looked at her knight, eyes narrowed as she tried to ascertain whether she had just been insulted or not. “What did you want me to do?” she asked defensively.
“Keep your head about you,” he replied, unphased by the pale face and red eyes of his lady. She had managed not to break down into tears with Lain present, but he was sure that they were not far off.
He was right. Her chest was heaving as she struggled to keep her emotions in check, the pillow squished flat in her arms. “You don’t understand Ishmerai! When I saw him holding that baby..” the battle was lost quickly as a tear traced a familiar path down her cheek. When Stephen had introduced Conail Kidd, the son he had always wanted, it had quickly and efficiently undone her. That was the child he had always wanted them to have, the child she would not give him, the child she was too afraid to even attempt to bring into the world. Was it not this very fear that had broken them apart? The fact that the imagined child was Diana’s and not hers was the final proof that, in Stephen’s mind as well as her own, she was a failure as both wife and mother.
The scene had been a painful reminder too that her children, the ones that Stephen had eventually viewed as his own, were lost. She saw them in each piece of porcelain that littered the floor after Lain had smashed the doll. Were the children not simply as unreal as that doll? Could not their portraits be just as easily destroyed? “I keep trying to move on without them. I keep trying to rebuild my life while I wait. I have been so so patient, Ishmerai. But how can I keep doing this? How can I continue like this when my pain is shoved into my face at each turn? My guilt?”
He waited patiently for the outburst of tears to subside before he spoke, “And what of Captain Kidd, Mira?” He did not bother to hide his disgust for the man. Who knew what damage he had done when in Faerie? If they had bewitched him, addled his mind, what did that mean for the safety of his lady’s name? He wished pointlessly that his lady had allowed him to kill the captain and put them both out of this misery.
“Who cares about Stephen Kidd?” she shouted vehemently at him through a fresh onslaught of tears. “Who cares about Stephen Kidd and his broken memories that do nothing but hurt? I told him not to go!” Jewell curled forward, burying her face against that smushed pillow. All that she had done to prevent this very circumstance had been undone. He had made her noble and selfless gestures useless. The futility of all that she had done made her sick. “I told him.”
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JewellRavenlock
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Tuesday, 29 July 2014
“Do you think Kalamere finds me annoying but spends time with me anyway so we can have great, guilt-free sex?” Jewell asked her knight, her body language belying the seriousness of her question. She was laying with her back on the seat of the couch and her legs thrown up over the top, bare feet dangling in the air. Her white dress, a bit stiff after some midnight swimming, was tucked tightly beneath her thighs so it didn’t keep flipping up. Blue hair brushed the ground as she tilted her head back to observe Ishmerai upside down.
“What would make you even ask such a question?” Ishmerai questioned, finding it hard to follow her logic as usual. They had been speaking about the possibility of her joining the Panther’s Claw tournament one moment and then this!
“I don’t know.” She shrugged a bit before adjusting her head so all the blood would stop rushing into it and making her dizzy. “Just something stupid someone said last night.” She had easily brushed aside Charlie’s comment at the time, but it needled at some of her deep-seated insecurities. Even if she did introduce herself with, “It is a pleasure to have you meet me,” to people on a regular basis, did she actually believe that? The social-savvy Faerie was a nice cover up for a badly damaged woman, plagued with doubt.
Apparently playing the role of her therapist this morning, Ishmerai gave her concerns some thought before asking, “Would you spend time with someone you could not stand simply to sleep with them?”
“Not likely. No one is that good in bed so it wouldn’t be worth it.” The knight simply stared at her as she answered her own question as usual. Jewell sighed, pressing her cheek against the couch cushion. “Why do I let these people get into my head sometimes?”
“That is a better question.”
“Do you think Kalamere finds me annoying but spends time with me anyway so we can have great, guilt-free sex?” Jewell asked her knight, her body language belying the seriousness of her question. She was laying with her back on the seat of the couch and her legs thrown up over the top, bare feet dangling in the air. Her white dress, a bit stiff after some midnight swimming, was tucked tightly beneath her thighs so it didn’t keep flipping up. Blue hair brushed the ground as she tilted her head back to observe Ishmerai upside down.
“What would make you even ask such a question?” Ishmerai questioned, finding it hard to follow her logic as usual. They had been speaking about the possibility of her joining the Panther’s Claw tournament one moment and then this!
“I don’t know.” She shrugged a bit before adjusting her head so all the blood would stop rushing into it and making her dizzy. “Just something stupid someone said last night.” She had easily brushed aside Charlie’s comment at the time, but it needled at some of her deep-seated insecurities. Even if she did introduce herself with, “It is a pleasure to have you meet me,” to people on a regular basis, did she actually believe that? The social-savvy Faerie was a nice cover up for a badly damaged woman, plagued with doubt.
Apparently playing the role of her therapist this morning, Ishmerai gave her concerns some thought before asking, “Would you spend time with someone you could not stand simply to sleep with them?”
“Not likely. No one is that good in bed so it wouldn’t be worth it.” The knight simply stared at her as she answered her own question as usual. Jewell sighed, pressing her cheek against the couch cushion. “Why do I let these people get into my head sometimes?”
“That is a better question.”
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JewellRavenlock
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Tuesday, 5 August 2014
“What is that?” Ishmerai asked, utterly confused, as he held the front door of the Old Market house open for her.
His befuddlement was perhaps so great that he did not even offer to assist his lady as she struggled to carry a throne made of flowers into the house. A few dropped off here and there, and Jewell danced around them as best she could so as not to squish them before carefully setting what was once just a chair down in the foyer. “It’s a throne for an Empress, obviously.” With a huff, she tried to blow the mess that was her blue hair out of her face. She was in good shape, but carrying the throne all the way from the portal of Twilight Isle to the house had been awkward.
“Where did it come from?”
Tired from her exertion, The Empress took a seat on her new throne. Ishmerai closed the front door, turning to her expectantly to hear this latest story. “Harris made it for me.”
One dark eyebrow raised up questioningly, “Did he now? I was under the impression that your favorite, blue-haired male was not a magic user.”
“Oh he isn’t.” She grinned real wide.
Ishmerai was willing to play along for a moment, “Then how did this come about?”
“He scratched his face and then poof! It was there. Harris is special like that.” At the knight’s look of disbelief she sighed. “Ooookay. Maybe it has something to do with that opal he’s got right now, PathFinder. But I’m not convinced. I think it’s really because blue haired people are just naturally awesome.”
“You are ridiculous.”
“I know.”
“What is that?” Ishmerai asked, utterly confused, as he held the front door of the Old Market house open for her.
His befuddlement was perhaps so great that he did not even offer to assist his lady as she struggled to carry a throne made of flowers into the house. A few dropped off here and there, and Jewell danced around them as best she could so as not to squish them before carefully setting what was once just a chair down in the foyer. “It’s a throne for an Empress, obviously.” With a huff, she tried to blow the mess that was her blue hair out of her face. She was in good shape, but carrying the throne all the way from the portal of Twilight Isle to the house had been awkward.
“Where did it come from?”
Tired from her exertion, The Empress took a seat on her new throne. Ishmerai closed the front door, turning to her expectantly to hear this latest story. “Harris made it for me.”
One dark eyebrow raised up questioningly, “Did he now? I was under the impression that your favorite, blue-haired male was not a magic user.”
“Oh he isn’t.” She grinned real wide.
Ishmerai was willing to play along for a moment, “Then how did this come about?”
“He scratched his face and then poof! It was there. Harris is special like that.” At the knight’s look of disbelief she sighed. “Ooookay. Maybe it has something to do with that opal he’s got right now, PathFinder. But I’m not convinced. I think it’s really because blue haired people are just naturally awesome.”
“You are ridiculous.”
“I know.”
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JewellRavenlock
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Wednesday, 13 August 2014
Ishmerai just stared at her as she walked down the hall towards him, having kicked the front door closed behind her, debating on what to comment on first: her odd state of attire in that thin camisole and shorts or the bit of magic wrapped around her right hand, giving it the appearance of healthy, unharmed skin. He opted for the easier course first, “What happened to your t-shirt?”
“It got burned.” Jewell was gritting her teeth at this point, face pale as the pain in her hand had not subsided as the night went on. Of course, why would it? She had done nothing to treat the burns. Now she detoured away from the kitchen and up the stairs, focused on getting to the jar of burn salve the apothecary had made for her by request.
Ishmerai followed her up the stairs and into the bathroom where they kept a steady supply of bandages and a few salves and ointments. “Is that how your hand got hurt too?”
No sense in maintaining the illusion any longer, Jewell let it drop to reveal signed, blistered, and angry red skin. She fumbled left-handed for the correct jar in the cabinet. “Something like that.”
“Stop.” With his hand on her shoulder, he directed her away from the cabinet and to a seat on the edge of the bathtub. He easily retrieved the correct salve and opened it before handing it off to her.
“Thanks,” she murmured, balancing the jar on her knees before slathering it on her palm and fingers. A little happy sigh escaped her lips at the quick relief she experienced from the terrible heat that radiated from the injury.
He watched as she carefully flexed her fingers and twisted her hand this way and that, once more observing the damage done by her interaction with Charlie Nine. “Mira.. are you looking for trouble again?”
“Did I ever stop?” she asked somewhat distractedly, wiggling her fingers in front of her face. When she determined there would be no lasting damage, she looked up to give him a grin written with trouble.
Ishmerai just stared at her as she walked down the hall towards him, having kicked the front door closed behind her, debating on what to comment on first: her odd state of attire in that thin camisole and shorts or the bit of magic wrapped around her right hand, giving it the appearance of healthy, unharmed skin. He opted for the easier course first, “What happened to your t-shirt?”
“It got burned.” Jewell was gritting her teeth at this point, face pale as the pain in her hand had not subsided as the night went on. Of course, why would it? She had done nothing to treat the burns. Now she detoured away from the kitchen and up the stairs, focused on getting to the jar of burn salve the apothecary had made for her by request.
Ishmerai followed her up the stairs and into the bathroom where they kept a steady supply of bandages and a few salves and ointments. “Is that how your hand got hurt too?”
No sense in maintaining the illusion any longer, Jewell let it drop to reveal signed, blistered, and angry red skin. She fumbled left-handed for the correct jar in the cabinet. “Something like that.”
“Stop.” With his hand on her shoulder, he directed her away from the cabinet and to a seat on the edge of the bathtub. He easily retrieved the correct salve and opened it before handing it off to her.
“Thanks,” she murmured, balancing the jar on her knees before slathering it on her palm and fingers. A little happy sigh escaped her lips at the quick relief she experienced from the terrible heat that radiated from the injury.
He watched as she carefully flexed her fingers and twisted her hand this way and that, once more observing the damage done by her interaction with Charlie Nine. “Mira.. are you looking for trouble again?”
“Did I ever stop?” she asked somewhat distractedly, wiggling her fingers in front of her face. When she determined there would be no lasting damage, she looked up to give him a grin written with trouble.
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JewellRavenlock
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Thursday, 28 August 2014
“Lain is fucking fired,” the blue-haired Empress shouted at Ishmerai as she marched past him, right hand cradled protectively to her chest.
“What? What do you mean?” Quick to catch up with her, the knight realized there was something more important to question first, “What did you do to your hand?”
“Broke it.”
“Uhuh..” this was not wholly unusual except Ishmerai was pretty sure it was a night for sword dueling, not fists. “Are you bleeding as well?” He tried to get a better look at her left arm, reaching over to pick at a piece of glass embedded in her skin. She tried to shrug him away. “What happened?”
“Lain.” Jewell bit out the one-word answer. “Fire her. Tomorrow.”
“What? Wait.. I thought you two were getting along.”
“She’s fired.”
Ishmerai shook his head, “No no no no. She was your choice. She has been incredibly resourceful and useful. If you want to keep up this game in Little Elfhame, you need her.”
Jewell stopped, turning on her knight furiously. “What did you not understand about what I said? She’s fired. Done. Gone. Okay?”
It was only then that he noticed that his lady was close to tears. “Okay.”
“Lain is fucking fired,” the blue-haired Empress shouted at Ishmerai as she marched past him, right hand cradled protectively to her chest.
“What? What do you mean?” Quick to catch up with her, the knight realized there was something more important to question first, “What did you do to your hand?”
“Broke it.”
“Uhuh..” this was not wholly unusual except Ishmerai was pretty sure it was a night for sword dueling, not fists. “Are you bleeding as well?” He tried to get a better look at her left arm, reaching over to pick at a piece of glass embedded in her skin. She tried to shrug him away. “What happened?”
“Lain.” Jewell bit out the one-word answer. “Fire her. Tomorrow.”
“What? Wait.. I thought you two were getting along.”
“She’s fired.”
Ishmerai shook his head, “No no no no. She was your choice. She has been incredibly resourceful and useful. If you want to keep up this game in Little Elfhame, you need her.”
Jewell stopped, turning on her knight furiously. “What did you not understand about what I said? She’s fired. Done. Gone. Okay?”
It was only then that he noticed that his lady was close to tears. “Okay.”
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JewellRavenlock
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Friday, 29 August 2014
Did she know what to do with a whole studio? Hell, no. So that was why, in the middle of a barren floor, she sat with her legs curled under her with a blood red, unplugged Fender in her lap.
Ishmerai ascended the steep staircase, taking a deep breath. He had left one difficult woman behind him, stubbornly quiet as she licked her wounds, and was about to approach another. He gave a brief yet firm knock to the door, "M'lady," he dared to address her still, "I would like to speak with you."
Thanks, Ish, you're a true pal. "Back up a few steps, turn around, fricken try again without makin' me sound old." Long thumbnail plucks at each string.
The poor man couldn't win. "Lain," he tried again, although using her given name seemed to smack of disrespect, "please allow me to enter. I believe we really must speak."
It did in his circles. But to her, it's acceptable. The 'please' part's cute too. "S'better. Get on in here, bro. Should'a brought a chair with ya."
Opening the door to enter, he briefly considered lecturing the Trueblood on the importance of locks but quickly dismisses the idea and simply closes it behind him. "I will remember that for next time, thank you." But he wished he had thought of a chair because there is a moment of hesitation as he takes in the bare room of what he should do: stand awkwardly or sit on the floor facing her? He opted for the latter. "The place looks.. lovely." At least he had a sense of humor.
"Course it does," says to the guitar. "It's got its essentials. Four walls an' a floor, couple'a jacks an' outlets." Another chord strummed. "So, what'cha want? Playin' mediator? Ain't too often ya wanna speak to ME."
"I do not believe I am qualified to be a mediator with my rather.. particular skill set." There was one of those rare smiles that usually only Jewell could provoke, but only when she was not being a pain. "I believe I am here to say, and I quote, 'Get the hell out,' but I thought perhaps we could discuss what perhaps caused my lady's change in opinion towards you once more?"
She must have heard it in his voice because she looked up, but her expression says she doesn't get it. "Ya keep problems from gettin' outta hand, don't ya? Mediator." Another strum. His question is what makes her smile, with a wolfish spread and an upnod. "Ahaaa, she that ticked?"
"If you would like to call that mediation.. then yes. I am here to mediate." The smile had yet to die when she looked up, and brightened for just a moment before it was replaced with something akin to disappointment at her own. "I think ticked would be an understatement."
"Please," rolls of silver eyes. "You ain't really pissed unless yer blowin' crap up, schway? She ain't been doin' that yet. I'd'a heard." Ducks her silver head out from the guitar strap. A fluid gesture of one thin hand has the instrument rising off her lap, turning in the air, and moving to rest upon the only piece of furniture the room had: a guitar stand. "Ya've known her longer than me, what do you think's tha only thing could get her this mad?"
Ishmerai checked himself, not divulging what Jewell considered a rather embarrassing secret: she couldn't blow up anything. Such displays of power were truly beyond her now, leaving her with a broken hand thrown against the solid wood of a bar as her main release of anger. "There are several things that can make her very angry but few that can make her so hurt." He emphasized that last word to clarify.
Lain had dead eyes. They'd long since lost their Trueblood sheen and not even a body reconstructed to perfection could bring it back. But a searchlight flickers through them, like she hadn't considered it possible to HURT Jewell. Piss her off, sure. But hurt? "Ain't like nothin' she ain't done ta me first, schway?" Getting up, she swats the seat of her pants, black and baggy with elastic at the waist and the word BANANA in block letters down her left leg.
Acting the part of a disappointed mentor, he frowned at Lain even as she stood. "A rather childish defense. I did not mean that you hurt her physically. This is something she needs no help in accomplishing on her own." Done with the lecture and following her in standing, he pressed the point of his visit: "What did you say to her, Lain?"
The Fae did cast a shadow, but she crosses her arms and stares up into his scale-bordered face like they were eye level. "I ain't stupid, Ish. I know what I did. I asked 'bout tha kids. At first," tilts her head. A waterfall of chrome trinkets dangled from the only sharp point of her ears. "Then I kinda pushed her 'bout'm."
He had opened his mouth to challenge her on that; clearly Lain had done more than merely ask, but when she admitted it herself, he only had one question, "Why?"
"Cuz no one else is. YOU ain't, none'a her "friends," air quotes were applicable, "are. She can pretend she's all over it an' crap, and doin' all she can an' movin' on'r whatever, but you spit tha word KID 'round her and you watch how easy it is ta kill her.
"Yanno she likes ta prattle on 'bout how many enemies she made 'cross the Way?" Chin jerks over his shoulder like a Way to the Nevernever had just opened. "She's too easy ta take out, Ish. You know that."
"Have I not?" He seemed more amused than annoyed at her assumptions. If only he had the time to tell Lain the journeys he and Jewell had been on together to save those children he had never even met. Perhaps would never meet. "Perhaps not as easy as you may think, Lain. I pity the person who comes after Jewell truly looking for trouble."
"Why, so she can talk'm ta death an' flip her hair? Politics ain't matter here, bro? Fricken shoot'r with an iron bullet straight up in tha head," slices a hand across her throat. "She's done.
"You know her better'n me, Ish. And maybe that's part'a tha problem, schway? I ain't been where she is, an' I ain't done what she's done. But I ain't no innocent lil' Elf from 'cross tha Border." Juts out her chin. "She's stronger'n this, Ish. Someone's gotta make her believe that."
Ishmerai laughed. He liked Lain. Which was why he had been willing to come and speak with her. He also thought the hard-*** thing was a bit of an act, which just made him like her more. "Would it relieve your concern for Jewell a bit to know that all this," he gestured around at the studio to indicate the neighborhood it was a part of, "is really just something for her to play at while she works on something much larger?"
"No. Cuz I told you I ain't stupid. There's a lotta hours in the day, schway? I know what it's for." Blows out a sigh that rounds her lean cheeks. "Look. Maybe it's just me hangin' onto a memory. Maybe I ain't ever really know her. Maybe she an' I are just WAY fricken different in how we handle crap. But it ticks me off ta see'r busted so easily. I ain't ever been able ta bust her before. She always got ta me worse.
"She's gonna get herself screwed over if she don't get a handle on it. Cuz as much as she ditches you? Tch." Smirk.
"All right." He nodded, the pieces from last night coming together a little and her last comment earning another smile. The question really was how far off was Ishmerai from Jewell at any given time? "She is more fragile than before.. but only in some ways. The children will always be her weakest point, Lain because no matter what she has tried, what she has attempted.. what she has given up, and she has given up more than you know, they have remained beyond her grasp. So she has failed them. And she has failed Alex. And you. And Brian. And Stephen Kidd."
A few white locks of hair moved without the benefit of her hand. "I could slap'r fer includin' me in that list. Alex.. tch," that seems to be all she's willing to say about that. "Brian's a joke. And Stephen's worth less. I guess that's part of it too."
Ishmerai neither argued nor disagreed. "She only came back here because she had no choice. Otherwise? She would not have bothered, not without them." He fell silent a moment before thinking to mention, "You do realize that her current state of.. weakness is because of the the kids? A punishment for killing those involved in taking them. Anyone who planned it, knew about it, participated in it. She went after all of them as soon as she could."
She wasn't surprised. She'd never had kids, but she'd had dogs once. And she had brothers that he could remember. Real ones. "See? You know she's got it in her ta be stronger'n this. I know it too. I've seen it, you've seen it." Throws up her hands. "All I want really..? An' it ain't even for me. Is fer her to remember that. If'n she's gotta bust, don't do it out there."
"It is not all weakness. It is part trap as well. What better way to draw your enemies in than to appear wounded? Perhaps it is not always intentionally so, but we are using it. And it is working."
Another scoff, another roll of her eyes. That was as much concession that he was going to get out of her. "Good thing all her enemies so far've been wusses." Turns to face the Fae. "I ain't need ta stay here, Ish. But I expect ya ta gimme a hand with all this stuff," waves her arm at the empty room.
"Who said you were going anywhere?" He tilted his head, confused.
"Uh.. Yer terrible impression 'bout a half hour ago? 'Fore ya say anything? I'm doin' her a favor by considerin' it, schway? I could totally make her like SO much worse."
"As far as I am concerned, you will not be going anywhere unless you so desire. But," his tone was one that brooked no argument, "you will not be.. pushing, I believe you said, her on this topic again."
She turns on her heel, slow, as slow as silver brows rise. Disbelief shaves off all hostility. "Worry 'bout yer ACTUAL charge, schway?"
"I am only worried that in focusing on Jewell's weakness, you have forgotten that I do not share them." He liked Lain, but that could only go so far. His devotion to Jewell was absolute.
"Ya've been doin' lots of assumption 'bout me, yanno that? I ain't got a bone ta pick with you. An' I ain't wantin' ta get in a pissing match." Arms unfold for slender hands to clasp her hips instead. "You want somethin' outta me, you ask." Which was really unfair considering she'd ordered him around before, but the tone of their discussion had shifted. He was no longer playing around, and neither was she.
"I have made assumptions about you? No no, dear lady." He shook his head slowly. "I am simply asking, a consideration few people ever receive, that you do not push my lady as you have done. It is highly upsetting to her and therefore highly unpleasant for me." There was no doubting in such moments how many years Ishmerai had spent in the courts of Faerie. "My job is to keep her from all threats, not just the physical ones. I would appreciate it if you would simply remember that as I would like to continue working with you in the future."
'Dear lady' trips down her spine like a mantis's bladed hands. She'd never been good at hiding her feelings. This time, disgust. But he keeps talking and it evens out. To consideration and finally into a half curved grin. "S'all ya had ta say, schway?"
He bowed his head to her, "I will remember to be more concise during our future dealings if possible."
"Eh. Yer a Faerie. Ya like words." Hand flap. "One thing'll make workin' with me REAL easy, though's not tellin' me what I will'r won't be doin'." Sticks out the same hand for him to shake. "Ta seal tha deal, schway?"
Not overly comfortable with the hand-shaking stuff, he did his best to not shake hers awkwardly. "It was my great pleasure to converse with you this afternoon, Lain." The knight could be taught! No more "lady" for the Trueblood.
Next step, call her Schway. Brilliant smile gifted up to Ish. Her handshake is firm and solid enough for the both of them. Somehow. With white fingers thin and long as twigs and evenly shaped fingernails, it's a wonder she had any strength at all. "Back at'cha."
Did she know what to do with a whole studio? Hell, no. So that was why, in the middle of a barren floor, she sat with her legs curled under her with a blood red, unplugged Fender in her lap.
Ishmerai ascended the steep staircase, taking a deep breath. He had left one difficult woman behind him, stubbornly quiet as she licked her wounds, and was about to approach another. He gave a brief yet firm knock to the door, "M'lady," he dared to address her still, "I would like to speak with you."
Thanks, Ish, you're a true pal. "Back up a few steps, turn around, fricken try again without makin' me sound old." Long thumbnail plucks at each string.
The poor man couldn't win. "Lain," he tried again, although using her given name seemed to smack of disrespect, "please allow me to enter. I believe we really must speak."
It did in his circles. But to her, it's acceptable. The 'please' part's cute too. "S'better. Get on in here, bro. Should'a brought a chair with ya."
Opening the door to enter, he briefly considered lecturing the Trueblood on the importance of locks but quickly dismisses the idea and simply closes it behind him. "I will remember that for next time, thank you." But he wished he had thought of a chair because there is a moment of hesitation as he takes in the bare room of what he should do: stand awkwardly or sit on the floor facing her? He opted for the latter. "The place looks.. lovely." At least he had a sense of humor.
"Course it does," says to the guitar. "It's got its essentials. Four walls an' a floor, couple'a jacks an' outlets." Another chord strummed. "So, what'cha want? Playin' mediator? Ain't too often ya wanna speak to ME."
"I do not believe I am qualified to be a mediator with my rather.. particular skill set." There was one of those rare smiles that usually only Jewell could provoke, but only when she was not being a pain. "I believe I am here to say, and I quote, 'Get the hell out,' but I thought perhaps we could discuss what perhaps caused my lady's change in opinion towards you once more?"
She must have heard it in his voice because she looked up, but her expression says she doesn't get it. "Ya keep problems from gettin' outta hand, don't ya? Mediator." Another strum. His question is what makes her smile, with a wolfish spread and an upnod. "Ahaaa, she that ticked?"
"If you would like to call that mediation.. then yes. I am here to mediate." The smile had yet to die when she looked up, and brightened for just a moment before it was replaced with something akin to disappointment at her own. "I think ticked would be an understatement."
"Please," rolls of silver eyes. "You ain't really pissed unless yer blowin' crap up, schway? She ain't been doin' that yet. I'd'a heard." Ducks her silver head out from the guitar strap. A fluid gesture of one thin hand has the instrument rising off her lap, turning in the air, and moving to rest upon the only piece of furniture the room had: a guitar stand. "Ya've known her longer than me, what do you think's tha only thing could get her this mad?"
Ishmerai checked himself, not divulging what Jewell considered a rather embarrassing secret: she couldn't blow up anything. Such displays of power were truly beyond her now, leaving her with a broken hand thrown against the solid wood of a bar as her main release of anger. "There are several things that can make her very angry but few that can make her so hurt." He emphasized that last word to clarify.
Lain had dead eyes. They'd long since lost their Trueblood sheen and not even a body reconstructed to perfection could bring it back. But a searchlight flickers through them, like she hadn't considered it possible to HURT Jewell. Piss her off, sure. But hurt? "Ain't like nothin' she ain't done ta me first, schway?" Getting up, she swats the seat of her pants, black and baggy with elastic at the waist and the word BANANA in block letters down her left leg.
Acting the part of a disappointed mentor, he frowned at Lain even as she stood. "A rather childish defense. I did not mean that you hurt her physically. This is something she needs no help in accomplishing on her own." Done with the lecture and following her in standing, he pressed the point of his visit: "What did you say to her, Lain?"
The Fae did cast a shadow, but she crosses her arms and stares up into his scale-bordered face like they were eye level. "I ain't stupid, Ish. I know what I did. I asked 'bout tha kids. At first," tilts her head. A waterfall of chrome trinkets dangled from the only sharp point of her ears. "Then I kinda pushed her 'bout'm."
He had opened his mouth to challenge her on that; clearly Lain had done more than merely ask, but when she admitted it herself, he only had one question, "Why?"
"Cuz no one else is. YOU ain't, none'a her "friends," air quotes were applicable, "are. She can pretend she's all over it an' crap, and doin' all she can an' movin' on'r whatever, but you spit tha word KID 'round her and you watch how easy it is ta kill her.
"Yanno she likes ta prattle on 'bout how many enemies she made 'cross the Way?" Chin jerks over his shoulder like a Way to the Nevernever had just opened. "She's too easy ta take out, Ish. You know that."
"Have I not?" He seemed more amused than annoyed at her assumptions. If only he had the time to tell Lain the journeys he and Jewell had been on together to save those children he had never even met. Perhaps would never meet. "Perhaps not as easy as you may think, Lain. I pity the person who comes after Jewell truly looking for trouble."
"Why, so she can talk'm ta death an' flip her hair? Politics ain't matter here, bro? Fricken shoot'r with an iron bullet straight up in tha head," slices a hand across her throat. "She's done.
"You know her better'n me, Ish. And maybe that's part'a tha problem, schway? I ain't been where she is, an' I ain't done what she's done. But I ain't no innocent lil' Elf from 'cross tha Border." Juts out her chin. "She's stronger'n this, Ish. Someone's gotta make her believe that."
Ishmerai laughed. He liked Lain. Which was why he had been willing to come and speak with her. He also thought the hard-*** thing was a bit of an act, which just made him like her more. "Would it relieve your concern for Jewell a bit to know that all this," he gestured around at the studio to indicate the neighborhood it was a part of, "is really just something for her to play at while she works on something much larger?"
"No. Cuz I told you I ain't stupid. There's a lotta hours in the day, schway? I know what it's for." Blows out a sigh that rounds her lean cheeks. "Look. Maybe it's just me hangin' onto a memory. Maybe I ain't ever really know her. Maybe she an' I are just WAY fricken different in how we handle crap. But it ticks me off ta see'r busted so easily. I ain't ever been able ta bust her before. She always got ta me worse.
"She's gonna get herself screwed over if she don't get a handle on it. Cuz as much as she ditches you? Tch." Smirk.
"All right." He nodded, the pieces from last night coming together a little and her last comment earning another smile. The question really was how far off was Ishmerai from Jewell at any given time? "She is more fragile than before.. but only in some ways. The children will always be her weakest point, Lain because no matter what she has tried, what she has attempted.. what she has given up, and she has given up more than you know, they have remained beyond her grasp. So she has failed them. And she has failed Alex. And you. And Brian. And Stephen Kidd."
A few white locks of hair moved without the benefit of her hand. "I could slap'r fer includin' me in that list. Alex.. tch," that seems to be all she's willing to say about that. "Brian's a joke. And Stephen's worth less. I guess that's part of it too."
Ishmerai neither argued nor disagreed. "She only came back here because she had no choice. Otherwise? She would not have bothered, not without them." He fell silent a moment before thinking to mention, "You do realize that her current state of.. weakness is because of the the kids? A punishment for killing those involved in taking them. Anyone who planned it, knew about it, participated in it. She went after all of them as soon as she could."
She wasn't surprised. She'd never had kids, but she'd had dogs once. And she had brothers that he could remember. Real ones. "See? You know she's got it in her ta be stronger'n this. I know it too. I've seen it, you've seen it." Throws up her hands. "All I want really..? An' it ain't even for me. Is fer her to remember that. If'n she's gotta bust, don't do it out there."
"It is not all weakness. It is part trap as well. What better way to draw your enemies in than to appear wounded? Perhaps it is not always intentionally so, but we are using it. And it is working."
Another scoff, another roll of her eyes. That was as much concession that he was going to get out of her. "Good thing all her enemies so far've been wusses." Turns to face the Fae. "I ain't need ta stay here, Ish. But I expect ya ta gimme a hand with all this stuff," waves her arm at the empty room.
"Who said you were going anywhere?" He tilted his head, confused.
"Uh.. Yer terrible impression 'bout a half hour ago? 'Fore ya say anything? I'm doin' her a favor by considerin' it, schway? I could totally make her like SO much worse."
"As far as I am concerned, you will not be going anywhere unless you so desire. But," his tone was one that brooked no argument, "you will not be.. pushing, I believe you said, her on this topic again."
She turns on her heel, slow, as slow as silver brows rise. Disbelief shaves off all hostility. "Worry 'bout yer ACTUAL charge, schway?"
"I am only worried that in focusing on Jewell's weakness, you have forgotten that I do not share them." He liked Lain, but that could only go so far. His devotion to Jewell was absolute.
"Ya've been doin' lots of assumption 'bout me, yanno that? I ain't got a bone ta pick with you. An' I ain't wantin' ta get in a pissing match." Arms unfold for slender hands to clasp her hips instead. "You want somethin' outta me, you ask." Which was really unfair considering she'd ordered him around before, but the tone of their discussion had shifted. He was no longer playing around, and neither was she.
"I have made assumptions about you? No no, dear lady." He shook his head slowly. "I am simply asking, a consideration few people ever receive, that you do not push my lady as you have done. It is highly upsetting to her and therefore highly unpleasant for me." There was no doubting in such moments how many years Ishmerai had spent in the courts of Faerie. "My job is to keep her from all threats, not just the physical ones. I would appreciate it if you would simply remember that as I would like to continue working with you in the future."
'Dear lady' trips down her spine like a mantis's bladed hands. She'd never been good at hiding her feelings. This time, disgust. But he keeps talking and it evens out. To consideration and finally into a half curved grin. "S'all ya had ta say, schway?"
He bowed his head to her, "I will remember to be more concise during our future dealings if possible."
"Eh. Yer a Faerie. Ya like words." Hand flap. "One thing'll make workin' with me REAL easy, though's not tellin' me what I will'r won't be doin'." Sticks out the same hand for him to shake. "Ta seal tha deal, schway?"
Not overly comfortable with the hand-shaking stuff, he did his best to not shake hers awkwardly. "It was my great pleasure to converse with you this afternoon, Lain." The knight could be taught! No more "lady" for the Trueblood.
Next step, call her Schway. Brilliant smile gifted up to Ish. Her handshake is firm and solid enough for the both of them. Somehow. With white fingers thin and long as twigs and evenly shaped fingernails, it's a wonder she had any strength at all. "Back at'cha."
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JewellRavenlock
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Friday, 29 August 2014
Jewell sat amongst a protective wall of pillows on the couch. It was a day to lick her wounds—a broken hand and stinging left arm, torn up from the bits of glass Ishmerai had extracted one by one with tweezers—and nurse hurt feelings. She put the book she had been reading, a light-hearted affair, aside with the entrance of her knight. Upon seeing his face, her expression fell from pleasurable expectation to displeasure. “You didn’t fire her.”
“I did not.” Ishmerai confirmed, perching on the edge of the chair opposite her.
“Mother of f-ing Nature, Merai. I gave you one simple task to do!”
He frowned, “Would you like to hear what actually took place before you pass judgment?”
“I don’t need to hear how you screwed Lain,” Jewell bit out.
The knight remained calm. “Such a suggestion is out of line, my lady.”
Her expression soured. “Fine. What did dear Lain have to say in her defense?”
Some time and conversation relieved Jewell of most of her annoyance. She sat silently, thinking over what Ishmerai had told her. “Do you think she is right?”
“To discourage your momentary displays of weakness?” Jewell nodded. Ishmerai had thought this over many times in the last year. What price was to be paid for his lady’s safety? “Not quite. I have paid enough attention to you in these lands. If some show of weakness is the price for your.. return of vivacity? I think it is worth it.”
Jewell looked so small, hugging a pillow to her chest and blue hair spilling everywhere around her in a mess of waves. “I don’t want to turn to ice again, Merai,” she admitted quietly. It felt too good to be alive these days.
“And you should not have to. I know, and I believe many others know, that when it comes down to the line, you will act. You will not crumble under your emotions. You will prove yourself strong.”
“Good.” For just a moment, in that firmly intoned word and the hardness of grey eyes, he saw a flash of her: the woman who had struck the High Court of Faerie with such fear that they had felt the need to bind the greater part of her magic to protect themselves from her.
“So no need to fire Lain?”
The Empress sighed with a touch of exasperation. “No, I guess not. Her concern is.. touching even if she goes about it in a completely backwards way.” Ishmerai just laughed.
Jewell sat amongst a protective wall of pillows on the couch. It was a day to lick her wounds—a broken hand and stinging left arm, torn up from the bits of glass Ishmerai had extracted one by one with tweezers—and nurse hurt feelings. She put the book she had been reading, a light-hearted affair, aside with the entrance of her knight. Upon seeing his face, her expression fell from pleasurable expectation to displeasure. “You didn’t fire her.”
“I did not.” Ishmerai confirmed, perching on the edge of the chair opposite her.
“Mother of f-ing Nature, Merai. I gave you one simple task to do!”
He frowned, “Would you like to hear what actually took place before you pass judgment?”
“I don’t need to hear how you screwed Lain,” Jewell bit out.
The knight remained calm. “Such a suggestion is out of line, my lady.”
Her expression soured. “Fine. What did dear Lain have to say in her defense?”
Some time and conversation relieved Jewell of most of her annoyance. She sat silently, thinking over what Ishmerai had told her. “Do you think she is right?”
“To discourage your momentary displays of weakness?” Jewell nodded. Ishmerai had thought this over many times in the last year. What price was to be paid for his lady’s safety? “Not quite. I have paid enough attention to you in these lands. If some show of weakness is the price for your.. return of vivacity? I think it is worth it.”
Jewell looked so small, hugging a pillow to her chest and blue hair spilling everywhere around her in a mess of waves. “I don’t want to turn to ice again, Merai,” she admitted quietly. It felt too good to be alive these days.
“And you should not have to. I know, and I believe many others know, that when it comes down to the line, you will act. You will not crumble under your emotions. You will prove yourself strong.”
“Good.” For just a moment, in that firmly intoned word and the hardness of grey eyes, he saw a flash of her: the woman who had struck the High Court of Faerie with such fear that they had felt the need to bind the greater part of her magic to protect themselves from her.
“So no need to fire Lain?”
The Empress sighed with a touch of exasperation. “No, I guess not. Her concern is.. touching even if she goes about it in a completely backwards way.” Ishmerai just laughed.
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JewellRavenlock
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Saturday, 25 October 2014
Ishmerai held the door open for his lady as her arms were full. “I thought you were going to the Outback,” he commented, clearly confused.
“Uhuh. That’s what I did.” Jewell carelessly set down the ant farm on the vestibule table, cradling the grey kitten in her arms. Oddly enough, it seemed content with this.
“And you came back with a...”
She mistook his confusion, thinking he did not know how to identify the animal in her arms. The Empress held the kitten out carefully to him, “It’s a kitten. Her name is Cupcake and she is mine now.”
“Right.”
Jewell cuddled the animal to her chest, stroking its fuzzy little nose with her fingertip. “I asked for the Catbug but someone brought me this instead. Maybe they got confused. What do you think, Cupcake? Hmm? Did someone get confused?” When she spoke to the kitten, her voice took on that high-pitched tone usually reserved for babies.
“Mother of Nature...”
Jewell ignored him. “Don’t mind Ishmerai. He’s just wearing his grumpy pants. Yes he is! Yes he is!”
The knight covered his eyes with his hand for a moment before pointing to the up-to-now unmentioned ant farm. “And what is that contraption?”
“Oh that?” She looked to the ant farm as well. “I have no flippin’ clue.”
Ishmerai held the door open for his lady as her arms were full. “I thought you were going to the Outback,” he commented, clearly confused.
“Uhuh. That’s what I did.” Jewell carelessly set down the ant farm on the vestibule table, cradling the grey kitten in her arms. Oddly enough, it seemed content with this.
“And you came back with a...”
She mistook his confusion, thinking he did not know how to identify the animal in her arms. The Empress held the kitten out carefully to him, “It’s a kitten. Her name is Cupcake and she is mine now.”
“Right.”
Jewell cuddled the animal to her chest, stroking its fuzzy little nose with her fingertip. “I asked for the Catbug but someone brought me this instead. Maybe they got confused. What do you think, Cupcake? Hmm? Did someone get confused?” When she spoke to the kitten, her voice took on that high-pitched tone usually reserved for babies.
“Mother of Nature...”
Jewell ignored him. “Don’t mind Ishmerai. He’s just wearing his grumpy pants. Yes he is! Yes he is!”
The knight covered his eyes with his hand for a moment before pointing to the up-to-now unmentioned ant farm. “And what is that contraption?”
“Oh that?” She looked to the ant farm as well. “I have no flippin’ clue.”
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JewellRavenlock
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Sunday, 26 October 2014
“What are you doing now?” Ishmerai posed the question inquisitively, and not without some measure of concern, as his lady sat at the kitchen island with an array of tools and containers. Cupcake the kitten wandered in-between the mess, vying for Jewell’s attention with the occasional, pathetic mew which earned her an occasional, absent-minded pat to the head.
The Empress was too busy nibbling on the inside of her cheek as she carefully scooped sand into the ant farm to pay any more attention than that to the kitten. “Ila came over this morning to meet Cupcake,” and the teen Brownie was just delighted with the little ball of fluff, marching home afterwards to demand a kitten from her parents who ran the neighborhood bakery, “and she told me that this is an ant farm.”
The knight’s brows knit together, “Why would one want to farm ants? What could they possibly be useful for?”
She shrugged, “I dunno but I want to find out. So I bought some sand and ants from Magical Mike’s Pet Shop like she told me to.” Jewell set the bag of sand aside and held up the container filled with writhing, purple-colored ants for Ishmerai to see. “I got these because they match my hair. Oh!” She reached and grabbed something else from the bag labeled ‘Magical Mike’s Pets’ and held it out to the stoic knight: A purple collar with a little crown hanging from it, ‘Cupcake’ clearly imprinted upon it. “I got this for Cupcake too while I was there.” She handed it off to the reluctant Ishmerai before returning to her ant project, giving the container full of the insects a little shake, “I guess we’ll see what happens.”
“What are you doing now?” Ishmerai posed the question inquisitively, and not without some measure of concern, as his lady sat at the kitchen island with an array of tools and containers. Cupcake the kitten wandered in-between the mess, vying for Jewell’s attention with the occasional, pathetic mew which earned her an occasional, absent-minded pat to the head.
The Empress was too busy nibbling on the inside of her cheek as she carefully scooped sand into the ant farm to pay any more attention than that to the kitten. “Ila came over this morning to meet Cupcake,” and the teen Brownie was just delighted with the little ball of fluff, marching home afterwards to demand a kitten from her parents who ran the neighborhood bakery, “and she told me that this is an ant farm.”
The knight’s brows knit together, “Why would one want to farm ants? What could they possibly be useful for?”
She shrugged, “I dunno but I want to find out. So I bought some sand and ants from Magical Mike’s Pet Shop like she told me to.” Jewell set the bag of sand aside and held up the container filled with writhing, purple-colored ants for Ishmerai to see. “I got these because they match my hair. Oh!” She reached and grabbed something else from the bag labeled ‘Magical Mike’s Pets’ and held it out to the stoic knight: A purple collar with a little crown hanging from it, ‘Cupcake’ clearly imprinted upon it. “I got this for Cupcake too while I was there.” She handed it off to the reluctant Ishmerai before returning to her ant project, giving the container full of the insects a little shake, “I guess we’ll see what happens.”
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JewellRavenlock
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Monday, 27 October 2014
“Bam!” Jewell hit the air with her fist as she exited the team entrance of the Iron Fists Garden, grinning. There was an undeniable bounce in her steps (in those heels!) as she approached Ishmerai. “Did you see her!?”
The knight smiled faintly, “Yes. I did mingle amidst the crowd to watch the match. Mrs. Ravenlock did very well for her debut fight.”
“Je-nai, “she emphasized her sister-in-law’s name with a look at Ishmerai which just screamed, ‘Why must you sound so stuffy and boring?’ “did AMAZING!” Then it was time for some reenactments, “She was all POW! and BAM!” Jewell sent another fist into the air and a kick too for good measure.
“Yes yes. It was quite impressive,” Ishmerai remarked without any of his lady’s enthusiasm.
“Do you know what this means, Merai?” she gave his chest a friendly shove with the question. “We may even stand a chance this season! I mean.. I don’t know about winning the whole thing, but we might not lose miserably!”
As dreams of grandeur quickly clouded the Faerie’s eyes, he felt the need to bring her back down to RhyDin. “Of course, that means you will have to win tomorrow night too.”
“Oh..” her expression fell a little. “Right.”
He continued, “And need I remind you that your performance as of late has not exactly been stellar, I believe the word is.”
Now she pouted, “No. You didn’t need to remind me.” Jewell dug the toe of her right high heel into the dirt a moment, “Why do you have to be such a killjoy?”
“Bam!” Jewell hit the air with her fist as she exited the team entrance of the Iron Fists Garden, grinning. There was an undeniable bounce in her steps (in those heels!) as she approached Ishmerai. “Did you see her!?”
The knight smiled faintly, “Yes. I did mingle amidst the crowd to watch the match. Mrs. Ravenlock did very well for her debut fight.”
“Je-nai, “she emphasized her sister-in-law’s name with a look at Ishmerai which just screamed, ‘Why must you sound so stuffy and boring?’ “did AMAZING!” Then it was time for some reenactments, “She was all POW! and BAM!” Jewell sent another fist into the air and a kick too for good measure.
“Yes yes. It was quite impressive,” Ishmerai remarked without any of his lady’s enthusiasm.
“Do you know what this means, Merai?” she gave his chest a friendly shove with the question. “We may even stand a chance this season! I mean.. I don’t know about winning the whole thing, but we might not lose miserably!”
As dreams of grandeur quickly clouded the Faerie’s eyes, he felt the need to bring her back down to RhyDin. “Of course, that means you will have to win tomorrow night too.”
“Oh..” her expression fell a little. “Right.”
He continued, “And need I remind you that your performance as of late has not exactly been stellar, I believe the word is.”
Now she pouted, “No. You didn’t need to remind me.” Jewell dug the toe of her right high heel into the dirt a moment, “Why do you have to be such a killjoy?”
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JewellRavenlock
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Wednesday, 29 October 2014
She was humming as she entered the kitchen, high heels dangling from her fingertips as she spun about on bare toes. The completion of a spin left her facing her knight with a grin. “Good morning, Ishmerai.”
“You certainly seem rather pleased with yourself despite your fairly terrible loss last night.”
Jewell’s smile melted into a bit of a scowl, “And you seem rather ill-tempered for no reason.”
“I was left on kitten-watching duty all night.” Cupcake, the kitten in question, was still small enough to cuddle happily in the palm of Ishmerai’s outstretched hand. The knight held her close to his lady’s face. Cupcake yawned. “Remember?”
“Oh right.” Jewell shrugged, giving Cupcake little scritches on her head before she scooted around the grumpy Fae to find herself something to eat. “I got sidetracked.”
Ishmerai cradled the kitten against his chest again, “Ahh Lord Ar’Din is back in town, is he?”
“Maybe,” she answered evasively, picking up and nibbling on the end of a muffin to determine if it was still fresh. It wasn’t so she tossed it in the garbage.
“At least you can stop fretting about his long absence.”
Jaw-dropped, Jewell turned to him. “I was not fretting!”
“Mmhmm.” The knight smirked. “And does he know how many times you stopped by The Line in the last few weeks?”
She pressed her lips together. There was no use arguing even though she hadn’t really stopped by Kal’s place that often. Just a few times here and there when she just happened to be in the neighborhood, which was actually fairly often since The Line wasn’t too far away from the dueling venues and the Inn. With a huff of frustration, she stormed out of the kitchen. Ishmerai called after her, “I hope you at least paid off his employees so they will not tell him!”
“Aruggh!” came the exasperated response from down the hall. Apparently she hadn’t even thought to do that.
The knight just grinned down at the kitten in his arms, “Rather grumpy isn’t she, Cupcake?”
She was humming as she entered the kitchen, high heels dangling from her fingertips as she spun about on bare toes. The completion of a spin left her facing her knight with a grin. “Good morning, Ishmerai.”
“You certainly seem rather pleased with yourself despite your fairly terrible loss last night.”
Jewell’s smile melted into a bit of a scowl, “And you seem rather ill-tempered for no reason.”
“I was left on kitten-watching duty all night.” Cupcake, the kitten in question, was still small enough to cuddle happily in the palm of Ishmerai’s outstretched hand. The knight held her close to his lady’s face. Cupcake yawned. “Remember?”
“Oh right.” Jewell shrugged, giving Cupcake little scritches on her head before she scooted around the grumpy Fae to find herself something to eat. “I got sidetracked.”
Ishmerai cradled the kitten against his chest again, “Ahh Lord Ar’Din is back in town, is he?”
“Maybe,” she answered evasively, picking up and nibbling on the end of a muffin to determine if it was still fresh. It wasn’t so she tossed it in the garbage.
“At least you can stop fretting about his long absence.”
Jaw-dropped, Jewell turned to him. “I was not fretting!”
“Mmhmm.” The knight smirked. “And does he know how many times you stopped by The Line in the last few weeks?”
She pressed her lips together. There was no use arguing even though she hadn’t really stopped by Kal’s place that often. Just a few times here and there when she just happened to be in the neighborhood, which was actually fairly often since The Line wasn’t too far away from the dueling venues and the Inn. With a huff of frustration, she stormed out of the kitchen. Ishmerai called after her, “I hope you at least paid off his employees so they will not tell him!”
“Aruggh!” came the exasperated response from down the hall. Apparently she hadn’t even thought to do that.
The knight just grinned down at the kitten in his arms, “Rather grumpy isn’t she, Cupcake?”
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JewellRavenlock
- Legendary Adventurer
- The Empress
- Posts: 2473
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Thursday, 6 November 2014
“Ishmerai!” she greeted him in a sing-song voice when he returned home and took a lean against the doorframe, watching as his lady dance her way around the kitchen. It made him smile faintly, the way she moved around light-of-foot with a sweet and happy tune on her lips. There were never afternoons like this in Faerie. Beyond the veil, there had only been brooding frowns and calculating smiles. In RhyDin, he watched her transform into enchanting rays of sunshine and little bits of magic that worked their way into people’s lives.
The knight’s contemplation was disrupted when Jewell spun about, tossing an empty jar of a newly discovered favorite food, chocolate hazelnut spread (“Mother of Nature, Meria! This is almost better than sex,” she had exclaimed when she first tried it), into the garbage. As she spun back to the collection of fruit she was nibbling on, her hair fanned out behind her for just a moment before falling back around her face. And suddenly Ishmerai was next to her, taking her by surprise as he roughly grabbed at that purple curtain of hair--so different from Kal’s gentle touch last night that had sent a little thrill down her spine--and pulled it away from her neck.
“What are you doing!?” She cried, trying to smack him away with a hand that she was only moments ago licking clean of any lingering chocolate.
The knight was furious, “Did Lord Ar’Din do that to you?”
“Of course not!” She touched her neck self-consciously, trying to further hide the mark that Crispin had left on her throat. “Tara and I were just playing a stupid game.. it was my fault.” The words sounded a bit hollow, repeated a thousand times on a world a million miles away in another lifetime.
It seemed to only make him angrier. He knew her history, knew the twisted way her mind worked. He also knew that a woman, especially the tiny terror Tara, had not left that mark on her neck. He jabbed his finger in the air, pointing at the hidden, undeniably hand-shaped bruise marring the creamy white skin of her throat. “If Kalamere did that…”
“He didn’t,” she insisted with her own mix of defensive venom.
“Who then?”
She just shrugged, sullen. The second half of her night had been so much fun, it had been easy to forget the foiled game she and Tara had been playing. It was not so fun to remember now. “I told you it was just a game. I lost.”
“I..” Ishmerai grasped for words that would not come. “I cannot deal with you when you are like this.” And far from the first time in their relationship, Ishmerai stormed out of the room.
“Ishmerai!” she greeted him in a sing-song voice when he returned home and took a lean against the doorframe, watching as his lady dance her way around the kitchen. It made him smile faintly, the way she moved around light-of-foot with a sweet and happy tune on her lips. There were never afternoons like this in Faerie. Beyond the veil, there had only been brooding frowns and calculating smiles. In RhyDin, he watched her transform into enchanting rays of sunshine and little bits of magic that worked their way into people’s lives.
The knight’s contemplation was disrupted when Jewell spun about, tossing an empty jar of a newly discovered favorite food, chocolate hazelnut spread (“Mother of Nature, Meria! This is almost better than sex,” she had exclaimed when she first tried it), into the garbage. As she spun back to the collection of fruit she was nibbling on, her hair fanned out behind her for just a moment before falling back around her face. And suddenly Ishmerai was next to her, taking her by surprise as he roughly grabbed at that purple curtain of hair--so different from Kal’s gentle touch last night that had sent a little thrill down her spine--and pulled it away from her neck.
“What are you doing!?” She cried, trying to smack him away with a hand that she was only moments ago licking clean of any lingering chocolate.
The knight was furious, “Did Lord Ar’Din do that to you?”
“Of course not!” She touched her neck self-consciously, trying to further hide the mark that Crispin had left on her throat. “Tara and I were just playing a stupid game.. it was my fault.” The words sounded a bit hollow, repeated a thousand times on a world a million miles away in another lifetime.
It seemed to only make him angrier. He knew her history, knew the twisted way her mind worked. He also knew that a woman, especially the tiny terror Tara, had not left that mark on her neck. He jabbed his finger in the air, pointing at the hidden, undeniably hand-shaped bruise marring the creamy white skin of her throat. “If Kalamere did that…”
“He didn’t,” she insisted with her own mix of defensive venom.
“Who then?”
She just shrugged, sullen. The second half of her night had been so much fun, it had been easy to forget the foiled game she and Tara had been playing. It was not so fun to remember now. “I told you it was just a game. I lost.”
“I..” Ishmerai grasped for words that would not come. “I cannot deal with you when you are like this.” And far from the first time in their relationship, Ishmerai stormed out of the room.
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JewellRavenlock
- Legendary Adventurer
- The Empress
- Posts: 2473
- Joined: Thu Apr 13, 2006 5:26 pm
- Location: Little Elfhame, Old Market
- Contact:
Saturday, 8 November 2014
Ishmerai bought all the copies of the RhyDin Enquirer he could find in the neighborhood and set them alight in a metal garbage can behind Beyond the Veil. It was a nice gesture. A loving gesture. And a completely futile one.
Jewell was sitting at the kitchen island with the paper on the counter in front of her. Her knight stood in the doorway, brushing ash off his hands. He had known she would eventually see it. Perhaps it was better that she found it rather than someone taking her by surprise with it right before a fight. He just never could guess what her reaction would be. Some men might find that interesting. Ishmerai found it stressful. “It is just what they call a rag paper, Mira, full of obvious lies. One more outlandish than the next.”
She tapped her fingers over those words over and over again. Tap tap tap tap went her finger on, “Baby bump!?”
“Mira?”
Tap tap taptaptaptaptap.
“Jewell...”
One finely painted fingernail dug into the top of the page. Slowly slowly she dragged it downwards, splitting those horrible words in two.
Ishmerai bought all the copies of the RhyDin Enquirer he could find in the neighborhood and set them alight in a metal garbage can behind Beyond the Veil. It was a nice gesture. A loving gesture. And a completely futile one.
Jewell was sitting at the kitchen island with the paper on the counter in front of her. Her knight stood in the doorway, brushing ash off his hands. He had known she would eventually see it. Perhaps it was better that she found it rather than someone taking her by surprise with it right before a fight. He just never could guess what her reaction would be. Some men might find that interesting. Ishmerai found it stressful. “It is just what they call a rag paper, Mira, full of obvious lies. One more outlandish than the next.”
She tapped her fingers over those words over and over again. Tap tap tap tap went her finger on, “Baby bump!?”
“Mira?”
Tap tap taptaptaptaptap.
“Jewell...”
One finely painted fingernail dug into the top of the page. Slowly slowly she dragged it downwards, splitting those horrible words in two.
-
JewellRavenlock
- Legendary Adventurer
- The Empress
- Posts: 2473
- Joined: Thu Apr 13, 2006 5:26 pm
- Location: Little Elfhame, Old Market
- Contact:
Sunday, 9 November 2014
“But no one mentioned having seen it?”
She shrugged, “Maybe they were too afraid I would punch them in the face.”
Ishmerai smiled just a touch, “Would you have done that?”
Unhesitatingly: “Yes.”
The knight just shook his head. Punching someone in the face over a tabloid article seemed silly, but the whims of Faeries often seemed to be that way. “Do you plan on going over to The Line today?” He knew she sometimes liked to stop by the betting house on a Sunday afternoon and see what sporting events were taking place, maybe place a bet or two. At least that was what she claimed to be doing.
“No.” Jewell stirred the yogurt she was not eating in a circle with her spoon, watching the fresh raspberries she had thrown into the bowl bleed red.
He watched her a moment before venturing his suggestion, “I thought perhaps you would like to speak with Lord Ar’Din before he sees the article..”
“I couuulllld,” she drew out the word as she stirred the yogurt the other way, “but no.”
“Mira…” he began.
She cut him off, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But no one mentioned having seen it?”
She shrugged, “Maybe they were too afraid I would punch them in the face.”
Ishmerai smiled just a touch, “Would you have done that?”
Unhesitatingly: “Yes.”
The knight just shook his head. Punching someone in the face over a tabloid article seemed silly, but the whims of Faeries often seemed to be that way. “Do you plan on going over to The Line today?” He knew she sometimes liked to stop by the betting house on a Sunday afternoon and see what sporting events were taking place, maybe place a bet or two. At least that was what she claimed to be doing.
“No.” Jewell stirred the yogurt she was not eating in a circle with her spoon, watching the fresh raspberries she had thrown into the bowl bleed red.
He watched her a moment before venturing his suggestion, “I thought perhaps you would like to speak with Lord Ar’Din before he sees the article..”
“I couuulllld,” she drew out the word as she stirred the yogurt the other way, “but no.”
“Mira…” he began.
She cut him off, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
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