Wednesday, 13 November 2013
“Did you see me?” Jewell practically shouted as she bounded up to her knight.
He tried hard to repress the smile that touched the corner of his lips, “I saw you lose to that man after thirteen rounds of being on top.” She locked her jaw and narrowed her eyes at him in perfect imitation of a petulant child. “I tease you, Mira. You did a very nice job against an opponent who has a lot more experience than you do.”
“Yeah yeah.” Some of her excitement had ebbed at his observation of her loss against Bane.
“Do not be this way. Come, tell me all about it as if I did not witness it myself. I was standing rather far off, so perhaps I did not see your display of mastery.”
They started walking away from the Gardens, and the Empress leveled a sharp look at him once more at the “mastery” comment before giving in to the energy level of the evening. “Well, I thought I really had him there! Only I feel like Bane wasn’t really aiming to hurt me, which I guess is nice and all, but then I feel bad about trying to clean his clock.” She paused and looked aside at Ishmerai, “That’s an expression people use. I don’t get it, but it means beating the crap out of someone I think.”
“I see,” he nodded.
“And my team was all there cheering me on, which got me all pumped up. Oh mother of nature!” She actually stopped dead in her tracks, “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you that Claire beat Vinny the other night!”
“Did she now?”
“Yes! She slaughtered him.” With a shake of her head, she continued walking, “Can’t believe I missed that. Well.. whatever. Claire beat Vinny and I almost beat Bane. And everyone was there to support me, which is the fun part about fighting in the league and all.” Ishmerai continued to nod at the appropriate moments even as he slid out of his jacket and settled it over his lady’s shoulders; there was nothing he could do about her bare legs and feet. “And then Tara was there too!”
“I did notice her presence; she is decidedly hard to miss,” the knight remarked dryly.
Jewell just laughed; that was a kind way to describe her bestest friend in all the wide worlds. “She was cheering me on too even though she doesn’t like the duels very much. So all-in-all it was a pretty good night!”
“It certainly sounds like it.”
“Did you see Kimone fight? I wanted to go check on her afterwards, but there were a lot of people hovering around her. I figured I’d let her teammates check up on her, and then maybe I can see how she’s doing tomorrow or some other time.”
“She had to fight that lion creature?”
“Uhuh. Rakeesh. I think he knocked her around real good,” Jewell shuddered. “I felt bad she had to fight him tonight. That could have gotten really ugly.”
“We will have to practice a lot more before you are ready to fight someone like that.”
Her laughter burst through the icy night air, “And maybe put on a few hundred pounds while we’re at it.”
Intercourse
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JewellRavenlock
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JewellRavenlock
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Friday 22 November 2013
Jewell exited the Outback with only the slightest shudder at the horrors continuing within: Mel and Vanion fighting in the pit while the Mandalorians burned in the air above them. Her steps were calm, her body rigidly controlled, as she walked several feet down the street; she needed some distance before allowing the shiny veneer of her artfully crafted social mask to crack. When she was far enough away, both her hands flew to cover her mouth and stifle the scream--building deep within her all night--into a painful groan.
The smell of her hands made her gag, bile building in the back of her throat as she yanked them away from her face. The imagined stench of fire and burning flesh was everywhere: her hands, her hair, her clothes. It invaded her nose, her mouth, her brain, invoking memories of her house and life burning down around her, her children torn from her arms. She couldn’t escape it, so she ran from it like she always did.
Ishmerai found her a half hour later submerged, fully clothed, in her giant bathtub. He watched as she kept even her head underwater, only surfacing when the need to breathe became too much before dunking herself back under again. The knight waited through several repetitions of this cycle before attempting to interrupt it, “There are more traditional ways to clean your clothes.”
She clearly considered disappearing beneath the water again but resisted the urge for the moment. “I needed to get the smell out of everything.” It didn’t matter that the scents were all in her head, untouched by the water she hoped would cleanse her of the touch of memories.
His lady, who he knew to be extraordinarily brave and strong, sounded so tiny and fragile. She looked it too, with her large grey eyes peering at him, soaked strands of blue hair plastered to her face. “And what smell would that be?” he asked more kindly as he entered the room and came to kneel at the side of the tub.
Jewell closed her eyes to conjure up what she had seen earlier in the evening, “Burning, death, and destruction.”
“That is a rather potent and awful combination,” he remarked in all seriousness. Ishmerai did not take his lady’s distaste for fire lightly, and he did not hesitate to take the pruney hand that snuck out of the tub to grasp on to his like the lifeline it was. Uncomfortable as it was, he stayed by her side in silence as they both waited for the water to work.
Jewell exited the Outback with only the slightest shudder at the horrors continuing within: Mel and Vanion fighting in the pit while the Mandalorians burned in the air above them. Her steps were calm, her body rigidly controlled, as she walked several feet down the street; she needed some distance before allowing the shiny veneer of her artfully crafted social mask to crack. When she was far enough away, both her hands flew to cover her mouth and stifle the scream--building deep within her all night--into a painful groan.
The smell of her hands made her gag, bile building in the back of her throat as she yanked them away from her face. The imagined stench of fire and burning flesh was everywhere: her hands, her hair, her clothes. It invaded her nose, her mouth, her brain, invoking memories of her house and life burning down around her, her children torn from her arms. She couldn’t escape it, so she ran from it like she always did.
Ishmerai found her a half hour later submerged, fully clothed, in her giant bathtub. He watched as she kept even her head underwater, only surfacing when the need to breathe became too much before dunking herself back under again. The knight waited through several repetitions of this cycle before attempting to interrupt it, “There are more traditional ways to clean your clothes.”
She clearly considered disappearing beneath the water again but resisted the urge for the moment. “I needed to get the smell out of everything.” It didn’t matter that the scents were all in her head, untouched by the water she hoped would cleanse her of the touch of memories.
His lady, who he knew to be extraordinarily brave and strong, sounded so tiny and fragile. She looked it too, with her large grey eyes peering at him, soaked strands of blue hair plastered to her face. “And what smell would that be?” he asked more kindly as he entered the room and came to kneel at the side of the tub.
Jewell closed her eyes to conjure up what she had seen earlier in the evening, “Burning, death, and destruction.”
“That is a rather potent and awful combination,” he remarked in all seriousness. Ishmerai did not take his lady’s distaste for fire lightly, and he did not hesitate to take the pruney hand that snuck out of the tub to grasp on to his like the lifeline it was. Uncomfortable as it was, he stayed by her side in silence as they both waited for the water to work.
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JewellRavenlock
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Monday 30 December 2013
Jewell stood on the steps of the Red Dragon Inn for longer than would seem prudent on a cold, winter night; she was blocking the entrance for anyone seeking a drink and a dusting of snow was quickly turning her blue hair white. Ishmerai allowed her several minutes of such solitude before approaching her with concern etched into his eternally youthful features. The concern was warranted as he had seen Captain Stephen Kidd leave the Inn just minutes before his lady had existed herself. “Mira? Are you unwell?”
She took a shuddering breath, reigning her thoughts back in from wherever they had wandered off to—happier times hopefully, but most likely not—as her grey eyes refocused on the here and now. The once-proud socialite sniffled a little, her emotions continuing to evade her control. “I just.. don’t know what’s wrong with me, Merai. I think I’m falling apart. I just.. I can’t keep doing this over and over and over.”
“Okay okay,” he spoke soothingly to her as he took her hand, guiding her gently down the steps before wrapping his arm around her thin, trembling shoulders in order to lead her home. Even though she had been gaining weight, gaining muscle, and becoming stronger, Ishmerai still marveled at how seemingly-delicate and tiny his lady really was. He squeezed her to his side a moment, a gesture of comfort for her but really a promise to himself that he would protect her, must protect her. “I know Stephen was at the Inn this evening. What happened?”
“It was,” her voice shook with the threat of tears, “it was just awful. I think he was trying to be nice to me, and I just yelled at him instead.” Her right hand locked painfully around her left wrist, fingers digging into the already bruised skin there, “I just lose my mind around him. I told him to go back to his wife last time. I told him it was over.”
“Stop that,” Ishmerai reached out and freed her wrist from the vice grip inflicted upon it.
She didn’t even seem to notice, and as she continued to talk, her hand gravitated right back to find new skin on her forearm to punish, “I think he wanted to talk but then he started talking about kissing other women, and I just got so angry. Why does he do this to me? Why does he have to pretend that everything is ok? That he’s not married to someone else? Why does he have to call me.. call me his muirnin?” Jewell lost it at that, her body shaking violently with sobs.
Ishmerai stopped walking, wrapping his arms about her as she threw herself against his chest. “I just can’t do this anymore! I can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”
“Shh Mira.” He stroked her hair, “It will not be like this always.”
“But I feel like I’m losing my mind! Nothing makes sense anymore.”
“Maybe you should go talk to Dr. Bronner tomorrow morning, hm?” He pulled back a little to look down into her wet face, “I am sure she would make time to see you.”
With the initial burst of hysterics ebbing, Jewell nodded and used the back of her hands to wipe furiously at her face, “I guess so.”
“Come on,” he spun her about and started leading her down the street again. “Tell me what else happened this evening? Not everything could have been so bad.”
“Well,” she sniffled again and wiped at her eyes as they headed home, “Cor did eat some Va Jay Jay cleansing cream...”
Jewell stood on the steps of the Red Dragon Inn for longer than would seem prudent on a cold, winter night; she was blocking the entrance for anyone seeking a drink and a dusting of snow was quickly turning her blue hair white. Ishmerai allowed her several minutes of such solitude before approaching her with concern etched into his eternally youthful features. The concern was warranted as he had seen Captain Stephen Kidd leave the Inn just minutes before his lady had existed herself. “Mira? Are you unwell?”
She took a shuddering breath, reigning her thoughts back in from wherever they had wandered off to—happier times hopefully, but most likely not—as her grey eyes refocused on the here and now. The once-proud socialite sniffled a little, her emotions continuing to evade her control. “I just.. don’t know what’s wrong with me, Merai. I think I’m falling apart. I just.. I can’t keep doing this over and over and over.”
“Okay okay,” he spoke soothingly to her as he took her hand, guiding her gently down the steps before wrapping his arm around her thin, trembling shoulders in order to lead her home. Even though she had been gaining weight, gaining muscle, and becoming stronger, Ishmerai still marveled at how seemingly-delicate and tiny his lady really was. He squeezed her to his side a moment, a gesture of comfort for her but really a promise to himself that he would protect her, must protect her. “I know Stephen was at the Inn this evening. What happened?”
“It was,” her voice shook with the threat of tears, “it was just awful. I think he was trying to be nice to me, and I just yelled at him instead.” Her right hand locked painfully around her left wrist, fingers digging into the already bruised skin there, “I just lose my mind around him. I told him to go back to his wife last time. I told him it was over.”
“Stop that,” Ishmerai reached out and freed her wrist from the vice grip inflicted upon it.
She didn’t even seem to notice, and as she continued to talk, her hand gravitated right back to find new skin on her forearm to punish, “I think he wanted to talk but then he started talking about kissing other women, and I just got so angry. Why does he do this to me? Why does he have to pretend that everything is ok? That he’s not married to someone else? Why does he have to call me.. call me his muirnin?” Jewell lost it at that, her body shaking violently with sobs.
Ishmerai stopped walking, wrapping his arms about her as she threw herself against his chest. “I just can’t do this anymore! I can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”
“Shh Mira.” He stroked her hair, “It will not be like this always.”
“But I feel like I’m losing my mind! Nothing makes sense anymore.”
“Maybe you should go talk to Dr. Bronner tomorrow morning, hm?” He pulled back a little to look down into her wet face, “I am sure she would make time to see you.”
With the initial burst of hysterics ebbing, Jewell nodded and used the back of her hands to wipe furiously at her face, “I guess so.”
“Come on,” he spun her about and started leading her down the street again. “Tell me what else happened this evening? Not everything could have been so bad.”
“Well,” she sniffled again and wiped at her eyes as they headed home, “Cor did eat some Va Jay Jay cleansing cream...”
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JewellRavenlock
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Friday 18 April 2014
“Well, you seem awfully pleased with yourself,” Ishmerai observed to the bouncing, blue-haired woman who was humming to herself as she exited the Inn.
“I am,” Jewell replied, pausing to kiss her knight’s cheek in passing, much to his surprise.
He shook his head with a smile, taking up his position besides her as they walked towards Old Market. “Did you win a duel?”
“A duel?” she asked confused, lost in her own thoughts.
“Yes, a duel.” Ishmerai grinned as he explained slowly: “One of those fights you sometimes like to participate in.” At her still puzzled expression, he questioned her, “You were in the Annex this evening, weren’t you?”
“Oh yes! Jake Thrash won the Madness Tournament.”
“And that is what you are so happy about?” It was the knight’s turn to look confused.
“No,” she laughed at the absurdity of his question. “I mean, it’s nice that Jake won but..”
“Oh good! Because if you remember correctly, you did not bet on him.”
“Yes yes,” she brushed off the reminder of her failed attempt at picking the winner, but the sudden thought of who she had picked had her grinning again.
Noting the grin, Ishmerai raised his eyebrows. “All right, woman. Out with it!”
She practically gushed out to him: “I will be dancing with Kalamere at Beltane.”
“Ahh I should have known this had something to do with a man. Ow!” He rubbed his arm where Jewell had just punched him.
“Don’t act like I get all moony over every man who talks to me.”
“I apologize. You only get all starry-eyed over half of the men who.. hey hey!” Ishmerai moved easily out of the way of her swinging fist this time.
“Be serious! I really like him.”
“But I thought he was not interested in relationships.”
Jewell shrugged, “I don’t think he is, but who says I am? I have had my share of serious relationships—most ending in epic disaster, by the way. I think it is time for something a little less serious but still entirely enjoyable.”
“Mmmhm..” he mumbled, staring aside at her as they navigated the busy, midnight streets of Dragon’s Gate. “And what about Captain Stephen Kidd, hm?”
She scowled, “Why must you ruin my good mood by bringing that up? It’s done and over, Merai. Period. He is married to someone else for Nature’s sake! And I may be many unpleasant things, but I am not a home-wrecker. I am also not one to pine desperately over someone who is not interested in me.”
“But you love him, Mira.”
“Enough!” She paused, stomping her bare foot on the cobblestone street. “I have heard enough about Stephen Kidd. Please, just let it go, Merai.”
He sighed, “Fine. Subject dropped. Now what do you plan to wear for Beltane to dance with Baron Kalamere?”
It took her a moment to regain her composure before she resumed her more mischievous grin, “Well.. I may have mentioned body paint to Kal just now..”
“Well, you seem awfully pleased with yourself,” Ishmerai observed to the bouncing, blue-haired woman who was humming to herself as she exited the Inn.
“I am,” Jewell replied, pausing to kiss her knight’s cheek in passing, much to his surprise.
He shook his head with a smile, taking up his position besides her as they walked towards Old Market. “Did you win a duel?”
“A duel?” she asked confused, lost in her own thoughts.
“Yes, a duel.” Ishmerai grinned as he explained slowly: “One of those fights you sometimes like to participate in.” At her still puzzled expression, he questioned her, “You were in the Annex this evening, weren’t you?”
“Oh yes! Jake Thrash won the Madness Tournament.”
“And that is what you are so happy about?” It was the knight’s turn to look confused.
“No,” she laughed at the absurdity of his question. “I mean, it’s nice that Jake won but..”
“Oh good! Because if you remember correctly, you did not bet on him.”
“Yes yes,” she brushed off the reminder of her failed attempt at picking the winner, but the sudden thought of who she had picked had her grinning again.
Noting the grin, Ishmerai raised his eyebrows. “All right, woman. Out with it!”
She practically gushed out to him: “I will be dancing with Kalamere at Beltane.”
“Ahh I should have known this had something to do with a man. Ow!” He rubbed his arm where Jewell had just punched him.
“Don’t act like I get all moony over every man who talks to me.”
“I apologize. You only get all starry-eyed over half of the men who.. hey hey!” Ishmerai moved easily out of the way of her swinging fist this time.
“Be serious! I really like him.”
“But I thought he was not interested in relationships.”
Jewell shrugged, “I don’t think he is, but who says I am? I have had my share of serious relationships—most ending in epic disaster, by the way. I think it is time for something a little less serious but still entirely enjoyable.”
“Mmmhm..” he mumbled, staring aside at her as they navigated the busy, midnight streets of Dragon’s Gate. “And what about Captain Stephen Kidd, hm?”
She scowled, “Why must you ruin my good mood by bringing that up? It’s done and over, Merai. Period. He is married to someone else for Nature’s sake! And I may be many unpleasant things, but I am not a home-wrecker. I am also not one to pine desperately over someone who is not interested in me.”
“But you love him, Mira.”
“Enough!” She paused, stomping her bare foot on the cobblestone street. “I have heard enough about Stephen Kidd. Please, just let it go, Merai.”
He sighed, “Fine. Subject dropped. Now what do you plan to wear for Beltane to dance with Baron Kalamere?”
It took her a moment to regain her composure before she resumed her more mischievous grin, “Well.. I may have mentioned body paint to Kal just now..”
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JewellRavenlock
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Saturday 19 April 2014
Jewell paused, a bit at a loss as to what to do when she didn't find Stephen on the porch after he had stormed out of the Inn. The small part of her brain that contained any common sense told her to go home and drink herself into a coma in order to forget that the last hour had actually happened. The emotional part of her brain—which unfortunately had the upper hand in most situations—was overwhelmed by thoughts of those papers he had, what he was trying to do, and why. There was also still a horrible, twisted feeling in her gut at his mention of being desperate, of Robert floating in the harbor with a bullet in his head, and the connection her overactive imagination created between the two. “Uggggh!” she groaned, fingers digging painfully into her wrist to try and clear her head. It didn’t take much pressure for her skin to bruise, the black and purple marks joining the ugly red scratches and half-moon punctures on her upper arms from earlier.
“Damnit!” She stomped her bare foot down on the porch in aggravation before she took off into the city, heading towards the docks instead of her home in Old Market.
“Where might my lady be off to in such a hurry this evening, hm?”
Right. Somehow in the midst of her decision-making, Jewell had forgotten about Ishmerai who was waiting faithfully outside the Inn for her as always. Surely then he had seen Stephen storm out; perhaps he had even took note of which way he had gone. “I have to go after him, Ishmerai. I need to speak with him.”
“I thought we were done with Captain Kidd, Mira,” he reminded her gently, reaching out to try and still her hand as she tore up the skin around her left wrist.
“I am! I was... but then he just bursts back into my life like this and it needs to stop. I need it to stop. I can’t keep going on like this.” Jewell wrangled her hand free from Ishmerai’s, the sharp pricks of pain from her nails breaking her skin brought her the clarity she needed and kept her grounded.
“Well, you will not be speaking with anyone in this condition. Not tonight at least.” The knight’s tone brooked no argument.
“But you don’t understand!” she lashed out at him with her tongue; all the frustration, fear, and anxiety of the last few hours bursting forth. “I think he’s lost his mind! He’s trying to get to Faerie. I don’t know why, but he can’t.. he can’t go. Not there. You know what they’ll do to him. And it’ll be my fault.” As she reached a level near hysteria, Ishmerai enveloped her in his arms, stroking her hair. “They’ll take him and destroy him too, just to spite me. To break me.”
“Shhh Mira. We will not let that happen.”
“But he’s not in his right mind! I have to stop him now, and then he can go back to his wife and,” she sniffled, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand in the epitome of refinement, “he’ll be safe so everything will be okay.”
“And you will stop him, just not tonight. Let the man have a rest. Perhaps he will be thinking more clearly in the morning, no?”
She nodded her agreement reluctantly. The idea that Stephen could be doing something stupid, something desperate as he had said, at this very moment made her chest tighten painfully. It made her want to shove Ishmerai out of her way and run all the way to Dockside and hunt him down. And yell at him! Yes, she would yell at him, and then maybe they could talk seriously afterwards. Yelling had to come first. The flaws in this plan were pretty obvious, though, and so she allowed her knight’s superior logic to prevail. “Good. Now let us get you home and cleaned up. You are a frightful mess; no wonder then man ran scared out of the Inn.”
Jewell paused, a bit at a loss as to what to do when she didn't find Stephen on the porch after he had stormed out of the Inn. The small part of her brain that contained any common sense told her to go home and drink herself into a coma in order to forget that the last hour had actually happened. The emotional part of her brain—which unfortunately had the upper hand in most situations—was overwhelmed by thoughts of those papers he had, what he was trying to do, and why. There was also still a horrible, twisted feeling in her gut at his mention of being desperate, of Robert floating in the harbor with a bullet in his head, and the connection her overactive imagination created between the two. “Uggggh!” she groaned, fingers digging painfully into her wrist to try and clear her head. It didn’t take much pressure for her skin to bruise, the black and purple marks joining the ugly red scratches and half-moon punctures on her upper arms from earlier.
“Damnit!” She stomped her bare foot down on the porch in aggravation before she took off into the city, heading towards the docks instead of her home in Old Market.
“Where might my lady be off to in such a hurry this evening, hm?”
Right. Somehow in the midst of her decision-making, Jewell had forgotten about Ishmerai who was waiting faithfully outside the Inn for her as always. Surely then he had seen Stephen storm out; perhaps he had even took note of which way he had gone. “I have to go after him, Ishmerai. I need to speak with him.”
“I thought we were done with Captain Kidd, Mira,” he reminded her gently, reaching out to try and still her hand as she tore up the skin around her left wrist.
“I am! I was... but then he just bursts back into my life like this and it needs to stop. I need it to stop. I can’t keep going on like this.” Jewell wrangled her hand free from Ishmerai’s, the sharp pricks of pain from her nails breaking her skin brought her the clarity she needed and kept her grounded.
“Well, you will not be speaking with anyone in this condition. Not tonight at least.” The knight’s tone brooked no argument.
“But you don’t understand!” she lashed out at him with her tongue; all the frustration, fear, and anxiety of the last few hours bursting forth. “I think he’s lost his mind! He’s trying to get to Faerie. I don’t know why, but he can’t.. he can’t go. Not there. You know what they’ll do to him. And it’ll be my fault.” As she reached a level near hysteria, Ishmerai enveloped her in his arms, stroking her hair. “They’ll take him and destroy him too, just to spite me. To break me.”
“Shhh Mira. We will not let that happen.”
“But he’s not in his right mind! I have to stop him now, and then he can go back to his wife and,” she sniffled, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand in the epitome of refinement, “he’ll be safe so everything will be okay.”
“And you will stop him, just not tonight. Let the man have a rest. Perhaps he will be thinking more clearly in the morning, no?”
She nodded her agreement reluctantly. The idea that Stephen could be doing something stupid, something desperate as he had said, at this very moment made her chest tighten painfully. It made her want to shove Ishmerai out of her way and run all the way to Dockside and hunt him down. And yell at him! Yes, she would yell at him, and then maybe they could talk seriously afterwards. Yelling had to come first. The flaws in this plan were pretty obvious, though, and so she allowed her knight’s superior logic to prevail. “Good. Now let us get you home and cleaned up. You are a frightful mess; no wonder then man ran scared out of the Inn.”
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JewellRavenlock
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Monday 21 April 2014
After she parted ways with Kalamere outside the Outback, Jewell stopped a moment and held out the wooden box he had given her, simply staring at it. The streetlamps lent an almost ghoulish look to her severely bruised face, shadows melding with the black, purples, and blues marring her skin. She remained still for some time, thoughtful, only noticing Ishmerai’s presence directly in front of her when he cleared his throat and she looked up.
He looked angry.
The knight’s brows were knit together in consternation as he stared at his lady’s overall state of being: her left eye bloodshot and swollen, bruises blossoming along both sides of her jaw to match the ones on her arms and legs, and the scent of whiskey on her breath. Jewell could see his cheek move as he began to grind his teeth together, biting back all he wanted to say to her.
The Empress held up the wooden box to show him, sounding extremely confused, “He gave me a present.”
“How nice.”
She ignored his tone of voice, perhaps his very presence, as she wondered aloud: “It is so thoughtful. And nice.”
Ishmerai breathed out slowly to calm himself enough to respond, “Is that so unusual for the Baron?”
“Noo..” Jewell answered slowly with a shake of her head. “It isn’t unusual. I simply cannot remember the last time someone even gave me a present.” Yes, Tara had given her a cell phone recently, but Tara had girl-parts so she did not really count for this conversation.
“Do not be so silly,” he spoke dismissively. “You received many gifts from many different admirers on an almost daily basis back home.”
“Yes but those don’t count.” Ishmerai raised his eyebrows questioningly causing her to sigh. “All those jewels, love poems.. that one gift of a changeling which was rather awful, they were meaningless. Those men just threw them at my feet to impress me and win my favor for political reasons or for the sake of their own vanity. Kalamere..” she paused as she attempted to articulate what had her so surprised, “he actually thought about this. And then he didn’t just give me my present—a mentorship with the Diamond by the way,” she smiled at the way Ishmerai’s eyes widened a touch, “but then he went through the trouble of finding a unique way to present it to me. He really put time into this.”
“Granted, that was a very nice gesture, but I am not understanding why you are so confused by all this.”
“It’s just been so long since someone has really taken the time to be this nice to me, and I guess I just don’t understand why. Like.. why bother?”
Her knight shook his head. For all his lady’s pride, she could be incredibly modest and self-deprecating.. or maybe she was just incredibly dense. “Mira..” he spoke patiently, “perhaps he fancies you.” He paused to let that sink in before delivering his critique: “Though I honestly cannot fathom why. Really m’lady, with that eye? You are looking positively repulsive. You will be lucky to entice the river-workers at this rate.”
“You’d be luck to entice the river-workers,” she imitated him with an affected sneer. “What a brat.”
After she parted ways with Kalamere outside the Outback, Jewell stopped a moment and held out the wooden box he had given her, simply staring at it. The streetlamps lent an almost ghoulish look to her severely bruised face, shadows melding with the black, purples, and blues marring her skin. She remained still for some time, thoughtful, only noticing Ishmerai’s presence directly in front of her when he cleared his throat and she looked up.
He looked angry.
The knight’s brows were knit together in consternation as he stared at his lady’s overall state of being: her left eye bloodshot and swollen, bruises blossoming along both sides of her jaw to match the ones on her arms and legs, and the scent of whiskey on her breath. Jewell could see his cheek move as he began to grind his teeth together, biting back all he wanted to say to her.
The Empress held up the wooden box to show him, sounding extremely confused, “He gave me a present.”
“How nice.”
She ignored his tone of voice, perhaps his very presence, as she wondered aloud: “It is so thoughtful. And nice.”
Ishmerai breathed out slowly to calm himself enough to respond, “Is that so unusual for the Baron?”
“Noo..” Jewell answered slowly with a shake of her head. “It isn’t unusual. I simply cannot remember the last time someone even gave me a present.” Yes, Tara had given her a cell phone recently, but Tara had girl-parts so she did not really count for this conversation.
“Do not be so silly,” he spoke dismissively. “You received many gifts from many different admirers on an almost daily basis back home.”
“Yes but those don’t count.” Ishmerai raised his eyebrows questioningly causing her to sigh. “All those jewels, love poems.. that one gift of a changeling which was rather awful, they were meaningless. Those men just threw them at my feet to impress me and win my favor for political reasons or for the sake of their own vanity. Kalamere..” she paused as she attempted to articulate what had her so surprised, “he actually thought about this. And then he didn’t just give me my present—a mentorship with the Diamond by the way,” she smiled at the way Ishmerai’s eyes widened a touch, “but then he went through the trouble of finding a unique way to present it to me. He really put time into this.”
“Granted, that was a very nice gesture, but I am not understanding why you are so confused by all this.”
“It’s just been so long since someone has really taken the time to be this nice to me, and I guess I just don’t understand why. Like.. why bother?”
Her knight shook his head. For all his lady’s pride, she could be incredibly modest and self-deprecating.. or maybe she was just incredibly dense. “Mira..” he spoke patiently, “perhaps he fancies you.” He paused to let that sink in before delivering his critique: “Though I honestly cannot fathom why. Really m’lady, with that eye? You are looking positively repulsive. You will be lucky to entice the river-workers at this rate.”
“You’d be luck to entice the river-workers,” she imitated him with an affected sneer. “What a brat.”
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JewellRavenlock
- Legendary Adventurer
- The Empress
- Posts: 2475
- Joined: Thu Apr 13, 2006 5:26 pm
- Location: Little Elfhame, Old Market
- Contact:
Saturday 3 May 2014
Jewell made a show of using the warm spring afternoon to weed the flower beds and pots surrounding the back patio of her Old Market house, but she was making little progress. Instead, she spun and danced about on the cool paving stones, the music in her head occasionally drifting out in bits of song in her sweet, high voice. The midday sun sparkled on the quick moving water beyond the yard, and sounds of the local merchants preparing for tomorrow’s street festival—or perhaps still celebrating last night’s festivities in this predominantly-fae neighborhood—drifted into the peaceful scene.
Ishmerai watched her spin about with a rather bemused look, noting the look in her eyes as she stopped and sighed, plucking a forget-me-not and twirling it in her hand. The amused noise he made in the back of his throat caught her attention, “And what do you look so chagrined at, good sir knight?”
“You, M’lady, and your ever-changing mood. I assume, from that dreamy look in your eyes, you enjoyed your evening last night although you have said little of it.”
“You are fishing for details, Ishmerai,” she wagged her finger at him, “but I do not kiss and tell.”
He laughed, “What a little liar you are! But please, do feel free to keep the details to yourself as I really have no desire to hear them.” Jewell just grinned and didn’t deny being a liar. How many mornings had Ishmerai woken up in Faerie with his mistress at the door just bursting to tell him how awful so-and-so was and really, she could barely keep herself from vomiting in his mouth when he kissed her with that horrid beard! “I wish I had known the cure to your melancholy weeks ago so I could have suggested that the Baron just kiss you then.”
The Empress rolled her eyes, “It wasn’t just the kiss.”
The knight held his hands up, laughing. “Wait wait! I thought I said no more details.”
“Stupid.” She grabbed a dandelion from one of the flower pots and threw it at him. The weed missed its mark by far. “I wasn’t going to tell you anything else anyway.” The peevish tone faded as she continued, “Just that we danced, kissed, and he brushed my hair from my face at one point.”
“There you go again, looking like a love sick puppy, Mira.”
Grey eyes narrowed at him as she delivered a rather withering look, “Must you tease me? Can you not just share in my happiness?”
“I am, I swear it! I am just surprised at how content you seem over a few kisses and a dance.”
She sighed, smoothing the skirt of her simple cotton dress as she perched on the edge of one of the chairs scattered about. “Do you remember when we first met, Ishmerai?” He nodded as he was unlikely ever to forget. “Do you remember how, until I stumbled upon you in that cell,” he smiled at that, “I was so incredibly lonely? I have told you before. I was deprived of really all companionship. No one to touch me, to hug me, hold me... not even a squeeze of my hand in friendship. I have heard the stories of children who grow up alone without any physical affection, without anyone to care, and what they become. That is what I was becoming as such things as warmth and friendship became a distant memory. So is it really such a wonder that a gesture as simple as touching my hair is so important? Or that when Tara or Taneth hug me, I feel a burst of happiness just bubble up inside of me. They are all little reminders that in many ways, the nightmare is over. I am not so horribly alone anymore.”
Despite the serious turn of Jewell’s soliloquy, Ishmerai could not help injecting the earlier levity back into the conversation: “That is all well and good, Mira. But if you are practically giddy from him just touching your hair, I hope you will try your best not to faint from excitement when you sleep with him.”
Jewell made a show of using the warm spring afternoon to weed the flower beds and pots surrounding the back patio of her Old Market house, but she was making little progress. Instead, she spun and danced about on the cool paving stones, the music in her head occasionally drifting out in bits of song in her sweet, high voice. The midday sun sparkled on the quick moving water beyond the yard, and sounds of the local merchants preparing for tomorrow’s street festival—or perhaps still celebrating last night’s festivities in this predominantly-fae neighborhood—drifted into the peaceful scene.
Ishmerai watched her spin about with a rather bemused look, noting the look in her eyes as she stopped and sighed, plucking a forget-me-not and twirling it in her hand. The amused noise he made in the back of his throat caught her attention, “And what do you look so chagrined at, good sir knight?”
“You, M’lady, and your ever-changing mood. I assume, from that dreamy look in your eyes, you enjoyed your evening last night although you have said little of it.”
“You are fishing for details, Ishmerai,” she wagged her finger at him, “but I do not kiss and tell.”
He laughed, “What a little liar you are! But please, do feel free to keep the details to yourself as I really have no desire to hear them.” Jewell just grinned and didn’t deny being a liar. How many mornings had Ishmerai woken up in Faerie with his mistress at the door just bursting to tell him how awful so-and-so was and really, she could barely keep herself from vomiting in his mouth when he kissed her with that horrid beard! “I wish I had known the cure to your melancholy weeks ago so I could have suggested that the Baron just kiss you then.”
The Empress rolled her eyes, “It wasn’t just the kiss.”
The knight held his hands up, laughing. “Wait wait! I thought I said no more details.”
“Stupid.” She grabbed a dandelion from one of the flower pots and threw it at him. The weed missed its mark by far. “I wasn’t going to tell you anything else anyway.” The peevish tone faded as she continued, “Just that we danced, kissed, and he brushed my hair from my face at one point.”
“There you go again, looking like a love sick puppy, Mira.”
Grey eyes narrowed at him as she delivered a rather withering look, “Must you tease me? Can you not just share in my happiness?”
“I am, I swear it! I am just surprised at how content you seem over a few kisses and a dance.”
She sighed, smoothing the skirt of her simple cotton dress as she perched on the edge of one of the chairs scattered about. “Do you remember when we first met, Ishmerai?” He nodded as he was unlikely ever to forget. “Do you remember how, until I stumbled upon you in that cell,” he smiled at that, “I was so incredibly lonely? I have told you before. I was deprived of really all companionship. No one to touch me, to hug me, hold me... not even a squeeze of my hand in friendship. I have heard the stories of children who grow up alone without any physical affection, without anyone to care, and what they become. That is what I was becoming as such things as warmth and friendship became a distant memory. So is it really such a wonder that a gesture as simple as touching my hair is so important? Or that when Tara or Taneth hug me, I feel a burst of happiness just bubble up inside of me. They are all little reminders that in many ways, the nightmare is over. I am not so horribly alone anymore.”
Despite the serious turn of Jewell’s soliloquy, Ishmerai could not help injecting the earlier levity back into the conversation: “That is all well and good, Mira. But if you are practically giddy from him just touching your hair, I hope you will try your best not to faint from excitement when you sleep with him.”
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JewellRavenlock
- Legendary Adventurer
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Sunday 4 May 2014
Jewell was fortunate that the knight who protected her not only loved her dearly but was smart enough to have a carriage waiting outside the Observatory to collect her after the second evening of Beltane festivities. She made it down the walk fine and to the carriage without even the slightest misstep or tangling her feet in the length of her sheer gown; really, practice did make perfect since Jewell was unable to count the nights she had spent in a similar state when beyond the veil, wandering the extensive and sprawling Ta-Neer manor saturated with the family’s best wine to bring a happy haze to all her dark thoughts. Ishmerai frowned as he carefully handed her in to the chaise and four, shaking his head as he followed. A word to the driver, and the wheels were spinning them back to their house in Old Market.
“Damnit!” Jewell punched the inside wall of the carriage, her coordination somewhat skewed by the liquor burning through her veins. “Damn damn damn damn damn,” each repetition was joined by her fists slamming into the seat, the wall, whatever she could hit.
Ishmerai watched the display dispassionately, but the driver seemed alarmed. He slowed the carriage, turning his head back to plead with his passenger: “Please Miss, dinnae injure my carriage!”
“Shut up!” She shouted, pointing at the driver who nervously turned his attention back to the cobblestone streets. The man was lucky she didn’t have shoes on, for surely she would have thrown them.
Ishmerai sat forward, speaking quietly to put the poor man’s mind at ease before turning back to his now-glowering companion. “Really, Mira.. it could not have been so bad.”
“He thinks he can just show up like nothing is wrong, drink, dance..” she was practically spitting out the words in her anger. The concern for Stephen’s well-being of the other day had slowly melted into a simmering anger.
“Did you not do the same only last night?” He was not deterred by the glare sent his way. “Really Mira, be fair. Does the poor man not deserve an evening to forget the world as well as you do?”
“No,” she huffed.
“Obstinate, headstrong woman,” he admonished.
Jewell was fortunate that the knight who protected her not only loved her dearly but was smart enough to have a carriage waiting outside the Observatory to collect her after the second evening of Beltane festivities. She made it down the walk fine and to the carriage without even the slightest misstep or tangling her feet in the length of her sheer gown; really, practice did make perfect since Jewell was unable to count the nights she had spent in a similar state when beyond the veil, wandering the extensive and sprawling Ta-Neer manor saturated with the family’s best wine to bring a happy haze to all her dark thoughts. Ishmerai frowned as he carefully handed her in to the chaise and four, shaking his head as he followed. A word to the driver, and the wheels were spinning them back to their house in Old Market.
“Damnit!” Jewell punched the inside wall of the carriage, her coordination somewhat skewed by the liquor burning through her veins. “Damn damn damn damn damn,” each repetition was joined by her fists slamming into the seat, the wall, whatever she could hit.
Ishmerai watched the display dispassionately, but the driver seemed alarmed. He slowed the carriage, turning his head back to plead with his passenger: “Please Miss, dinnae injure my carriage!”
“Shut up!” She shouted, pointing at the driver who nervously turned his attention back to the cobblestone streets. The man was lucky she didn’t have shoes on, for surely she would have thrown them.
Ishmerai sat forward, speaking quietly to put the poor man’s mind at ease before turning back to his now-glowering companion. “Really, Mira.. it could not have been so bad.”
“He thinks he can just show up like nothing is wrong, drink, dance..” she was practically spitting out the words in her anger. The concern for Stephen’s well-being of the other day had slowly melted into a simmering anger.
“Did you not do the same only last night?” He was not deterred by the glare sent his way. “Really Mira, be fair. Does the poor man not deserve an evening to forget the world as well as you do?”
“No,” she huffed.
“Obstinate, headstrong woman,” he admonished.
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JewellRavenlock
- Legendary Adventurer
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Monday 5 May 2014
Jewell sat with her bare feet dangling in the air above the swift moving river flowing flowing flowing away to the great stretch of water beyond. Her hair, still black as part of her Beltane-weekend celebration, had finally dried in thick, beach-y waves. A swim had been too tempting, the sea warmer than the cool night air, as she and Kal had walked along the beach. The element no longer called to her with its honey-whispered voice, but she was drawn to it all the same. There was also the perk of needing to discard her dress before wading into the moon-lit waves, but really she hadn't been swayed by the desire to be a tease at all. Now, the early morning breeze ruffled her peacock feather dress, carrying the scent of salt from the sea.
She felt the air shift as Ishmerai took a seat next to her. He searched her quiet, tear-free face for a sign of what was going on behind those guarded, grey eyes that continued to watch the water go by despite his presence. “Did you have a nice evening?” he asked, completely avoiding a more dangerous topic of conversation.
“Mmhm,” she nodded slowly, trying to recapture the more light-hearted feelings of just an hour or so ago. Infuriatingly, they escaped her for now.
Ishmerai knew that the gushing excitement he would have been bombarded with earlier had been stolen away by the subsequent encounter, confrontation, and conversation with Stephen. He refused to mention the meeting, and since she did not introduce the topic herself, he merely leaned over to press a kiss to the top of her head, the dark hair warming with the rising sun. Then he stood up and retreated back to the house, leaving her with whatever dark thoughts she struggled against.
Jewell sat with her bare feet dangling in the air above the swift moving river flowing flowing flowing away to the great stretch of water beyond. Her hair, still black as part of her Beltane-weekend celebration, had finally dried in thick, beach-y waves. A swim had been too tempting, the sea warmer than the cool night air, as she and Kal had walked along the beach. The element no longer called to her with its honey-whispered voice, but she was drawn to it all the same. There was also the perk of needing to discard her dress before wading into the moon-lit waves, but really she hadn't been swayed by the desire to be a tease at all. Now, the early morning breeze ruffled her peacock feather dress, carrying the scent of salt from the sea.
She felt the air shift as Ishmerai took a seat next to her. He searched her quiet, tear-free face for a sign of what was going on behind those guarded, grey eyes that continued to watch the water go by despite his presence. “Did you have a nice evening?” he asked, completely avoiding a more dangerous topic of conversation.
“Mmhm,” she nodded slowly, trying to recapture the more light-hearted feelings of just an hour or so ago. Infuriatingly, they escaped her for now.
Ishmerai knew that the gushing excitement he would have been bombarded with earlier had been stolen away by the subsequent encounter, confrontation, and conversation with Stephen. He refused to mention the meeting, and since she did not introduce the topic herself, he merely leaned over to press a kiss to the top of her head, the dark hair warming with the rising sun. Then he stood up and retreated back to the house, leaving her with whatever dark thoughts she struggled against.
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JewellRavenlock
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Saturday 10 May 2014
Her motive was ridiculous, but Jewell attempted to close the front door of the house quietly behind her, remove her high-heels, and creep down the hallway. The moon, already descending as the early morning hours wore on, cast enough light for her to avoid the numerous obstacles she had left for herself--shoes, the Old Temple scepter, a pile of books and parchments--and make it triumphantly to the drawing room. Such triumph was short lived as Ishmerai was there waiting for her.
“Really?” he asked incredulously as he noted the shoes in her hand and the careful way she had moved into the room. In that one word, she read his entire question: “Really? How many years have we spent together and still you think you can sneak past me somehow?”
She grinned, the unrepentant teenager breaking curfew; it had been hours since she had left the Arena and wandered off with Kalamere without word or notice to her knight. “I figured it was worth a try.”
He rolled his eyes before his brow creased, puzzled, as Jewell threw her shoes down on the floor and collapsed in that graceful, effortless manner of hers onto a couch. “Why is your dress wet? And your hair?” Her smile gained a cat-ate-the-canary curve. “Midnight walk on the beach again?” She shook her head. He could see that she was eager to share, her casual sprawl abandoned as she leaned forward and grinned at him. “Well, out with it then,” he waved his hand, resigned to hearing as much of the story as she wished to divulge.
“We went dancing at that place on Drake in Dragon’s Gate, the one where the dance floor is technically the street?”
“Yes, I recall the location. I did not realize that the Baron was such an avid dancer.”
“Well you know.. with the right partner,” she shrugged carelessly, but he could not miss the clear implication that she was obviously the right dance partner for the Baron and many other men. It was a dig at him because her knight had steadfastly refused to dance with her on almost every occasion, except for that one time in Carpenyal.
“The dancing does not explain the state of your dress.”
“Oh.. we just went swimming after because we got a bit warm,” she affected casualness poorly. His brows raised in question, but those details she kept to herself. The large houses in New Haven. The thrill of trespassing. Decadent pools with inviting aqua and turquoise shades. She hadn’t hesitated to kick off her shoes and wade right into the water fully clothed, her dress clinging like a second skin of sheer, silver material. She turned to Kal with a smile, beckoning for him to join her.
Ishmerai stood from his chair slowly, “I am glad you had an enjoyable evening. Although, I hope you realize that just because you have returned to your old habit of late nights, it does not mean you are excused from waking up at dawn to run.”
She groaned, falling dramatically back on the couch again, “But my feet,” she gestured to them, “from dancing..”
“No excuses,” he pat her on the head on his way out of the room.
Her motive was ridiculous, but Jewell attempted to close the front door of the house quietly behind her, remove her high-heels, and creep down the hallway. The moon, already descending as the early morning hours wore on, cast enough light for her to avoid the numerous obstacles she had left for herself--shoes, the Old Temple scepter, a pile of books and parchments--and make it triumphantly to the drawing room. Such triumph was short lived as Ishmerai was there waiting for her.
“Really?” he asked incredulously as he noted the shoes in her hand and the careful way she had moved into the room. In that one word, she read his entire question: “Really? How many years have we spent together and still you think you can sneak past me somehow?”
She grinned, the unrepentant teenager breaking curfew; it had been hours since she had left the Arena and wandered off with Kalamere without word or notice to her knight. “I figured it was worth a try.”
He rolled his eyes before his brow creased, puzzled, as Jewell threw her shoes down on the floor and collapsed in that graceful, effortless manner of hers onto a couch. “Why is your dress wet? And your hair?” Her smile gained a cat-ate-the-canary curve. “Midnight walk on the beach again?” She shook her head. He could see that she was eager to share, her casual sprawl abandoned as she leaned forward and grinned at him. “Well, out with it then,” he waved his hand, resigned to hearing as much of the story as she wished to divulge.
“We went dancing at that place on Drake in Dragon’s Gate, the one where the dance floor is technically the street?”
“Yes, I recall the location. I did not realize that the Baron was such an avid dancer.”
“Well you know.. with the right partner,” she shrugged carelessly, but he could not miss the clear implication that she was obviously the right dance partner for the Baron and many other men. It was a dig at him because her knight had steadfastly refused to dance with her on almost every occasion, except for that one time in Carpenyal.
“The dancing does not explain the state of your dress.”
“Oh.. we just went swimming after because we got a bit warm,” she affected casualness poorly. His brows raised in question, but those details she kept to herself. The large houses in New Haven. The thrill of trespassing. Decadent pools with inviting aqua and turquoise shades. She hadn’t hesitated to kick off her shoes and wade right into the water fully clothed, her dress clinging like a second skin of sheer, silver material. She turned to Kal with a smile, beckoning for him to join her.
Ishmerai stood from his chair slowly, “I am glad you had an enjoyable evening. Although, I hope you realize that just because you have returned to your old habit of late nights, it does not mean you are excused from waking up at dawn to run.”
She groaned, falling dramatically back on the couch again, “But my feet,” she gestured to them, “from dancing..”
“No excuses,” he pat her on the head on his way out of the room.
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JewellRavenlock
- Legendary Adventurer
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Tuesday 13 May 2014
“I do not believe you have ever mentioned any woman named PJ to me before,” Ishmerai stated calmly as his lady danced and occasionally spun about next to him instead of simply walking down the street.
Jewell laughed, spirits running high at the moment due to PJ’s presence as well as the promise of some roller skating shenanigans tomorrow night in Old Temple with Harris and whoever they could scrounge up. “I probably never mentioned her. You do realize that I used to know everybody who was anybody in this town,” she was walking backwards now in order to face him, easily avoiding tripping or knocking into anything (mostly because people hurried out of her way), “there’s no way I could possibly mention them all to you.”
“Very true. So what makes this PJ so special?”
“She’s a little bundle of trouble just like me.”
It was Ishmerai’s turn to laugh, “Sounds like a headache for me.”
“Probably,” she agreed, spinning around again to face forward. They walked in companionable silence, Jewell’s hands linked behind her, face turned upwards to the starry sky. She was thoughtful when she spoke again, “Seeing people I was close to, being around them again.. it’s important to me.” Her brow creased as she fumbled a bit to express accurately what she was thinking, “It’s like regaining a little piece of myself. I know I’ll never pick them all up again. Some pieces are just lost forever. But every time I see someone like PJ or Eless, hug them tight to reassure myself that they exist, that I exist and I am here with them again..” she took a deep breath, “I know I’m home.”
“I do not believe you have ever mentioned any woman named PJ to me before,” Ishmerai stated calmly as his lady danced and occasionally spun about next to him instead of simply walking down the street.
Jewell laughed, spirits running high at the moment due to PJ’s presence as well as the promise of some roller skating shenanigans tomorrow night in Old Temple with Harris and whoever they could scrounge up. “I probably never mentioned her. You do realize that I used to know everybody who was anybody in this town,” she was walking backwards now in order to face him, easily avoiding tripping or knocking into anything (mostly because people hurried out of her way), “there’s no way I could possibly mention them all to you.”
“Very true. So what makes this PJ so special?”
“She’s a little bundle of trouble just like me.”
It was Ishmerai’s turn to laugh, “Sounds like a headache for me.”
“Probably,” she agreed, spinning around again to face forward. They walked in companionable silence, Jewell’s hands linked behind her, face turned upwards to the starry sky. She was thoughtful when she spoke again, “Seeing people I was close to, being around them again.. it’s important to me.” Her brow creased as she fumbled a bit to express accurately what she was thinking, “It’s like regaining a little piece of myself. I know I’ll never pick them all up again. Some pieces are just lost forever. But every time I see someone like PJ or Eless, hug them tight to reassure myself that they exist, that I exist and I am here with them again..” she took a deep breath, “I know I’m home.”
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JewellRavenlock
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Monday, 26 May 2014
“So obviously you were quite happy to see the Baron again last night,” Ishmerai observed.
“Mmhmm,” Jewell walked with her hands clasped behind her head, face still a bit flushed from their run. They were wandering back to the house at a leisurely pace, taking their time since she didn’t have to go over to Old Temple for weapons practice with Kalamere today. It had been the perfect morning to run through the woods, the green canopy keeping the air cool even as the sun rose overhead.
The knight reached over and plucked a small leaf from her blue hair, “Do you plan on seeing him tonight as well?”
She shrugged, letting her arms swing down to her sides, “We don’t have definite plans or anything, but there’s always the chance that we will conveniently run into each other.”
“Yes, very convenient.” He shook his head as she grinned.“Is not tonight that vigil for the two young ladies who recently passed on?” Ishmerai ventured this question a bit more cautiously. A deadly warrior though he was, there were few Fae that were truly comfortable with death.
Queenie. Lila. Jewell’s face went expressionless save for the small frown touching her lips. She had not really known the latter at all, but she had considered Clarice a friend. It really was not her relationship to either that bothered her; the manner of their deaths and their ages though.. There was a brief image in her mind of a young girl, ears rounded with glamour, blue hair done up elaborately on her head. Her body was all skin and bones, her arms cut to shreds over and over again, tears coursing down her face as she cursed the wounds that healed far too quickly to provide the relief she was looking for. “I am not going to that.”
“No,” Ishmerai gazed at her steadily a moment before returning his gaze to the cobblestone street they walked, “I did not suppose you would.”
“So obviously you were quite happy to see the Baron again last night,” Ishmerai observed.
“Mmhmm,” Jewell walked with her hands clasped behind her head, face still a bit flushed from their run. They were wandering back to the house at a leisurely pace, taking their time since she didn’t have to go over to Old Temple for weapons practice with Kalamere today. It had been the perfect morning to run through the woods, the green canopy keeping the air cool even as the sun rose overhead.
The knight reached over and plucked a small leaf from her blue hair, “Do you plan on seeing him tonight as well?”
She shrugged, letting her arms swing down to her sides, “We don’t have definite plans or anything, but there’s always the chance that we will conveniently run into each other.”
“Yes, very convenient.” He shook his head as she grinned.“Is not tonight that vigil for the two young ladies who recently passed on?” Ishmerai ventured this question a bit more cautiously. A deadly warrior though he was, there were few Fae that were truly comfortable with death.
Queenie. Lila. Jewell’s face went expressionless save for the small frown touching her lips. She had not really known the latter at all, but she had considered Clarice a friend. It really was not her relationship to either that bothered her; the manner of their deaths and their ages though.. There was a brief image in her mind of a young girl, ears rounded with glamour, blue hair done up elaborately on her head. Her body was all skin and bones, her arms cut to shreds over and over again, tears coursing down her face as she cursed the wounds that healed far too quickly to provide the relief she was looking for. “I am not going to that.”
“No,” Ishmerai gazed at her steadily a moment before returning his gaze to the cobblestone street they walked, “I did not suppose you would.”
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JewellRavenlock
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Tuesday, 27 May 2014
Jewell stood surrounded by dresses heaped on the floor and any available surface of her room. “I believe you are over thinking this,” Ishmerai objected, having spent the last two hours trying to help her decide what to wear just to travel to Faerie. Once there, she’d have more than enough people to wait on her hand and foot and make any such decisions for her if she so desired.
“I guess I’ll go with the silver one made from the little leaves,” she stated hesitantly.
“Yes. It is very nice,” he agreed for the fourth or fifth time.
“Ugh!” Dress in hand, Jewell collapsed onto her small fainting couch, which also happened to be covered in clothes. “I don’t want to think about this anymore.”
Ishmerai replied unsympathetically, “Then do not. You are stressed about the journey and tired from the lack of sleep you have been getting.”
She sat up, eyebrows arched, “I am sorry good sir knight, but was that a tease regarding the late hours I have been keeping?”
“You do seem like to wander off with the Baron through all hours of the night and coming home reeking of tequila.”
Jewell shrugged, resuming her lounging position, “I find him to be good company.”
“And I am glad you do so,” he stated honestly. “I am happy you did not go catatonic when Captain Kidd took his leave.” He ignored the sour look she gave him. They had fought several times now about Stephen; it did not sit well with Ishmerai that a man who did not seem to be in his right mind possessed her name. It was a sore topic for both of them. “However, your recent outings have made my duty to protect you somewhat problematic.”
“I am fully safe,” she scoffed, waving away his concerns. “I can handle any trouble that comes my way, and if I cannot, I’m sure Kalamere is not opposed to lending a hand and is more than capable of doing so.”
He tried to remain calm, “I do not doubt your safety when you are in such company, but it is my job to protect you. It is not his.”
“What do you want from me, Ishmerai? You complain when I refuse to leave the house and are put-off when I do. I love you with all my heart, dearest of all knights, but I will not have you following me along when I am out with a man.” His scowl and the way his forehead wrinkled all funny like that told her that he was sincerely displeased with their current situation. Jewell softened her tone, “I am sorry I make things so difficult for you, Merai. If I manage to make it out of Faerie alive this time, I promise to think of a…” she didn’t get to finish as the knight balled up one of her silk dresses and hit her square in the face with it. “Bah.. Merai!”
Jewell stood surrounded by dresses heaped on the floor and any available surface of her room. “I believe you are over thinking this,” Ishmerai objected, having spent the last two hours trying to help her decide what to wear just to travel to Faerie. Once there, she’d have more than enough people to wait on her hand and foot and make any such decisions for her if she so desired.
“I guess I’ll go with the silver one made from the little leaves,” she stated hesitantly.
“Yes. It is very nice,” he agreed for the fourth or fifth time.
“Ugh!” Dress in hand, Jewell collapsed onto her small fainting couch, which also happened to be covered in clothes. “I don’t want to think about this anymore.”
Ishmerai replied unsympathetically, “Then do not. You are stressed about the journey and tired from the lack of sleep you have been getting.”
She sat up, eyebrows arched, “I am sorry good sir knight, but was that a tease regarding the late hours I have been keeping?”
“You do seem like to wander off with the Baron through all hours of the night and coming home reeking of tequila.”
Jewell shrugged, resuming her lounging position, “I find him to be good company.”
“And I am glad you do so,” he stated honestly. “I am happy you did not go catatonic when Captain Kidd took his leave.” He ignored the sour look she gave him. They had fought several times now about Stephen; it did not sit well with Ishmerai that a man who did not seem to be in his right mind possessed her name. It was a sore topic for both of them. “However, your recent outings have made my duty to protect you somewhat problematic.”
“I am fully safe,” she scoffed, waving away his concerns. “I can handle any trouble that comes my way, and if I cannot, I’m sure Kalamere is not opposed to lending a hand and is more than capable of doing so.”
He tried to remain calm, “I do not doubt your safety when you are in such company, but it is my job to protect you. It is not his.”
“What do you want from me, Ishmerai? You complain when I refuse to leave the house and are put-off when I do. I love you with all my heart, dearest of all knights, but I will not have you following me along when I am out with a man.” His scowl and the way his forehead wrinkled all funny like that told her that he was sincerely displeased with their current situation. Jewell softened her tone, “I am sorry I make things so difficult for you, Merai. If I manage to make it out of Faerie alive this time, I promise to think of a…” she didn’t get to finish as the knight balled up one of her silk dresses and hit her square in the face with it. “Bah.. Merai!”
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JewellRavenlock
- Legendary Adventurer
- The Empress
- Posts: 2475
- Joined: Thu Apr 13, 2006 5:26 pm
- Location: Little Elfhame, Old Market
- Contact:
Friday, 13 June 2014
Jewell had filled the walk home with empty chatter about this and that, a little half-hearted talk about the new store, while her thoughts were millions of miles and hundreds of years away. Ishmerai didn’t press her to explain what was weighing on her mind, assuming he would get the story in the morning. He was therefore surprised to find her sitting at the kitchen island at three in the morning, an almost empty bottle of fey wine and a glass set before her. He stood there silently, watching her as she traced the patterns in the concrete countertops with her fingertip. He didn’t even realize she knew he was there until she spoke up, “Do you think I can ever wash my hands clean of the things I have done?”
It was a conversation not often repeated between them. “Surely you have done enough good to have struck a balance.”
“What about washing clean my mind? My conscience?”
“I did not realize you had one,” he joked carefully with her, stepping into the room to take a seat caddy corner to her. She looked so miserable when she finally looked up at him; in truth, Jewell really just needed to lift her head enough to empty her current glass of wine. “What horrible deeds are you to be punished for this evening?”
“Every time I close my eyes,” she slid her fingers down her face, forcing her eyes shut, “I see them.” They blinked open rapidly. “They’re there in the rings during the festival, fighting each other.. animals. They are holding torches in the moonless night to light our way, enchanted arms held rigidly above them. They are there with their empty eyes, serving drinks at every party, every dinner. Hunted down on steeds, dogs nipping at their heels. Children kept as pets. Adults as lovers.”
The knight’s brow creased as he tried to follow her rambling to its end. “Are you speaking about humans?”
“Yes humans,” she replied impatiently. “The mortal victims of our world. And who is to stop us from what we do? Hmm?”
“Mira, you were never party to those things unless…”
“Does it really matter, Ishmerai? Does it? Those who do not attempt to stop the crimes they see are just as guilty.”
Jewell had filled the walk home with empty chatter about this and that, a little half-hearted talk about the new store, while her thoughts were millions of miles and hundreds of years away. Ishmerai didn’t press her to explain what was weighing on her mind, assuming he would get the story in the morning. He was therefore surprised to find her sitting at the kitchen island at three in the morning, an almost empty bottle of fey wine and a glass set before her. He stood there silently, watching her as she traced the patterns in the concrete countertops with her fingertip. He didn’t even realize she knew he was there until she spoke up, “Do you think I can ever wash my hands clean of the things I have done?”
It was a conversation not often repeated between them. “Surely you have done enough good to have struck a balance.”
“What about washing clean my mind? My conscience?”
“I did not realize you had one,” he joked carefully with her, stepping into the room to take a seat caddy corner to her. She looked so miserable when she finally looked up at him; in truth, Jewell really just needed to lift her head enough to empty her current glass of wine. “What horrible deeds are you to be punished for this evening?”
“Every time I close my eyes,” she slid her fingers down her face, forcing her eyes shut, “I see them.” They blinked open rapidly. “They’re there in the rings during the festival, fighting each other.. animals. They are holding torches in the moonless night to light our way, enchanted arms held rigidly above them. They are there with their empty eyes, serving drinks at every party, every dinner. Hunted down on steeds, dogs nipping at their heels. Children kept as pets. Adults as lovers.”
The knight’s brow creased as he tried to follow her rambling to its end. “Are you speaking about humans?”
“Yes humans,” she replied impatiently. “The mortal victims of our world. And who is to stop us from what we do? Hmm?”
“Mira, you were never party to those things unless…”
“Does it really matter, Ishmerai? Does it? Those who do not attempt to stop the crimes they see are just as guilty.”
-
JewellRavenlock
- Legendary Adventurer
- The Empress
- Posts: 2475
- Joined: Thu Apr 13, 2006 5:26 pm
- Location: Little Elfhame, Old Market
- Contact:
Tuesday, 24 June 2014
“You are home early,” he commented as she entered the living room, collapsing onto the couch opposite him heels and all. He raised a questioning brow at the streak of mud decorating her cheek.
She kicked at her shoes until they went flying off this way and that, “I thought maybe I would go to sleep at what you might consider a decent time tonight.”
“What you really mean to say is Kalamere was not at the Outback this evening.”
She smirked, gleeful at Ishmerai’s false assumption, “Oh no.. he was. He lost our wager too on who was going to win the challenge tonight.” Although Jewell was pretty sure he had just picked Vinny because she had already chosen Harris.
The knight was genuinely confused, “Then why are you here?”
She rolled her eyes, “Don’t act like I’m stalking the poor man everywhere he goes,” a pillow got thrown Ishmerai’s way as he started to open his mouth, “because I’m not! I just need to get up early and get some stuff done.”
He caught the pillow effortlessly. “I thought all the shipment and paperwork was in order already.”
“It is. I just have something else I need to do.” No matter how casually she tried to play that off, Ishmerai’s eyebrows rose questioningly. “Fine fine..” she groaned before he could pressure her, “I need to try and find someone to teach me how to cook.”
“Again?” He had only been present for the cooking lessons Sapphire had given Jewell during the girl’s short stay in this dimension, but he had heard horror stories of previous attempts.
“I just thought it would be something to do to occupy my time..”
The pillow went flying back at her, hitting her in the face before she could bat it aside. “Just stop. You are a terrible liar.”
“You are home early,” he commented as she entered the living room, collapsing onto the couch opposite him heels and all. He raised a questioning brow at the streak of mud decorating her cheek.
She kicked at her shoes until they went flying off this way and that, “I thought maybe I would go to sleep at what you might consider a decent time tonight.”
“What you really mean to say is Kalamere was not at the Outback this evening.”
She smirked, gleeful at Ishmerai’s false assumption, “Oh no.. he was. He lost our wager too on who was going to win the challenge tonight.” Although Jewell was pretty sure he had just picked Vinny because she had already chosen Harris.
The knight was genuinely confused, “Then why are you here?”
She rolled her eyes, “Don’t act like I’m stalking the poor man everywhere he goes,” a pillow got thrown Ishmerai’s way as he started to open his mouth, “because I’m not! I just need to get up early and get some stuff done.”
He caught the pillow effortlessly. “I thought all the shipment and paperwork was in order already.”
“It is. I just have something else I need to do.” No matter how casually she tried to play that off, Ishmerai’s eyebrows rose questioningly. “Fine fine..” she groaned before he could pressure her, “I need to try and find someone to teach me how to cook.”
“Again?” He had only been present for the cooking lessons Sapphire had given Jewell during the girl’s short stay in this dimension, but he had heard horror stories of previous attempts.
“I just thought it would be something to do to occupy my time..”
The pillow went flying back at her, hitting her in the face before she could bat it aside. “Just stop. You are a terrible liar.”
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