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[Couronne] Necks out
Posted: Sun Dec 19, 2021 2:00 pm
by Arkash
12th of Frost, 4621
The night of the wintry accord was a night of many revelations on the unspoken accounts of all those that had attended at the Treveyn's beck and call. Some events were sealed away forever, unspoken to the world, and lost to time. Others sailed by unnoticed, saved from the seal the woman had placed upon their lips.
Though most of the night outside of the Treveyn's void was largely forgettable and annoying, there was one that Arkash had taken interest in for how much they stood out from the rest. The elf, Amyas as he'd introduced himself, was the only one at the accord who dressed as he did. Even Arkash had dressed well with the aid of his better-informed friends, but Amyas had no such other. He'd attended an Entente Soiree with dirt on his face of all things, to the 'guised rathor, such spoke volumes of his character.
He'd left his perch and made his way through the writhing bodies of nobles to land at the elf's side, and spoke a series of kind words to garner trust, but it was clear by the tension in the air that his presence unsettled the Sil'Norai. The elf seemed to study him under his mask, gauged his eyes and expression both. Perhaps he was too forward? As if in recognition of his error, he relinquished his claim on the elf's shoulder, then rose a brow beneath the socket of his mask.
Before he set his hand back at his side, however, he swiped his dark tongue across the surface of his thumb to wet it and reached for the elf's face at an angle, and pressed the edge of his index finger to the taller man's jawline. "Missed a spot," he spoke as he wiped away the loose dirt, then let him go properly.
"You said you were invited by the lady herself?" It took a lot not to vomit at his own words. He hated referring to her in such a manner. Despite his own disgust, he furrowed his brow. "Well don't tell anyone else that," he spoke with a frown, and looked about the various faces and smiles that clung to the heads he wished to roll. They were everywhere, like hornets tending to their hive, all but crawling over one another in their Candor.
Arkash had been playing the secret game for some time by that night's fall, but Amyas gave away information the Treveyn had specifically directed them not to share with just one question. Was it a trap? Or was Amyas just that far in over his head? "They'll eat you alive to get a shot at words like those," Arkash surmised with the confidence of an expert. He wasn't an expert; he knew little of the Candor, bar that it was a bad idea to divulge information to the nobility, but he behaved as though he knew it well.
His own lack of experience showed in his next move. "...She did say not to share that with anyone in the invitation, didn't she?" With that, he drew the piece of paper from his back pocket and unfolded it to show the elf. Arkash couldn't read, so he just had to hope it was the correct piece, and that he hadn't made a fool of himself.
Another glance about his surroundings assured they were still speaking privately, and he put the parchment away. It was risky to check because such checks were often the herald to something he wasn't supposed to be doing. Anyone that caught him checking his flanks for shoulder surfers was bound to know that he was talking about something he wasn't meant to be. And in a soiree, that would be quickly capitalized upon.
"So we're both in this then, right? How'd you figure that happened?" Arkash asked his taller counterpart with some relaxed drop to his shoulders. He believed he'd found someone on the invitation list he was on, for what reason he still had yet to gauge. If Amyas was some sort of authority in disguise, he wouldn't have shared that he was there per the lady's request. Arkash had good reason to believe he'd encountered an honest elf, though his sharp gaze verified such a leap of faith at every move.
"Where are you from? What sort of 'service' is it you that you offer?" He elaborated his question. The more he knew about who the raggedy elf was, the more chance he had of being able to determine the purpose of the event.
Re: [Couronne] Necks out
Posted: Tue Dec 28, 2021 6:30 am
by Amyas
Grateful as Amyas was that Derek would spare him from the ignominy of wandering around with dirt on his face, he was not in the slightest prepared for him to wipe it off. The elf simply shut down, blinking furiously as he tried to reason what the appropriate response to a stranger cleaning your cheek was. Eventually, he settled on a simple “Th-thanks.”
Amyas began to nod, but faltered when the stranger mentioned he should keep his being invited under wraps. Was that inappropriate? Was there some kind of social rule thing about not talking about invitations? Or— ah, had it been a direct request from the Treveyn herself?
“Lessee… words, words… Wish she'd use some smaller words… 'share nothing with my…' oh.” So even the fact that an invitation had been sent out was a secret?
“Eheh, well… no 'arm, no foul, right? Not like anyone else'll even gimme the time o' day, let alone the chance to muck up like that…” God, he hoped nobody else had heard. The hum of the ball should have mostly covered up their talking, but everyone here was a mage! They could have enchanted ears able to hear a pin drop! Or more saliently, able to hear an elf disclose secrets!
But maybe… they wouldn't bother listening to him at all. He could hardly unsay the words that had already been said, so he would have to cling to that hope for dear life.
“That's what I'd like to know.” A grin bloomed on Amyas' face as he gestured to himself. “Not exactly the kinda person who gets into places like this.” Of course, he didn't mind one bit. The elven man didn't belong here, it wasn't his life. He'd known that long before he'd set foot into the hall, but tonight had managed to set that thought into stone.
“As for what I do…” How the hell did you word "I'm a thief" in a way that didn't sound incredibly illegal. More to the point, should he be doing that at all? Well, how about…
“I'm a collector. Probably got in 'ere because I'm pretty good at gettin' things.”
Re: [Couronne] Necks out
Posted: Wed Dec 29, 2021 2:40 am
by Arkash
A brow rose to the street rat when he began to read from the invitation without help, though the full scope of his surprise was concealed by his mask. Just where did the scraggly elf pick up that trick? He looked young, but didn't all elves? Except for the older ones, that was. Arkash pursed his lips in thought while Amyas wrestled with the words, then nodded when he finished, to save face. Almost mechanically, his eyes trained on the spot that Amyas had stowed his invitation after reading.
If not for how Amyas was dressed and the dirt that had clung to his face, Arkash would have thought him a commoner. Amyas seemed to have survived the street life remarkably well and didn't seem to possess any of the grotesque ailments or grown-with injuries that later crippled men and women among the serfs... Which, admittedly, just made him more suspicious. Arkash crossed his arms while he nodded, thinking to himself while he reflected on his answers.
"A collector, huh?" Arkash squinted. So a thief, then? A likely story, but perhaps that was how he was able to stay alive and in such good health? Arkash had managed a similar feat, after all; it wasn't impossible. "Alright, I'll bite. I don't suppose you're buyin' what you're collectin', are ya?"
That only confirmed Arkash's suspicions, this Brilan person wanted something done that was either totally illegal or heavily frowned upon. Why else would she need a proxy or a set of proxies? Arkash furrowed his brow and brought his human nails to his sharp teeth while he thought, it helped to distract him from the moment, which brought more of his focus to processing the information. Alas, with a sigh, Arkash gave up on trying to figure out what she could need a thief and a killer for.
"I'm a merc," Arkash clarified. "Damn good with muh sword, too. I'm startin' to think she's got us 'ere for somethin' elicit, but can't figure out for sure what she wants." he shrugged.
His eyes glanced about the room in thought while he considered, and scanned the faces of the nobles about the room. occasionally, he met the gaze of an Entente or two, who quickly diverted their eyes elsewhere. Was their conversation being eavesdropped upon? Arkash didn't care for whether or not the woman's plans were ruined by external factors... So long as it didn't reach her that he was responsible.
"Fancy a dance?" Arkash offered at last with an open hand. "Seriously, I insist," Arkash spoke with a throw of his eyes in the direction of the onlookers he'd caught, no doubt they were still being watched. It would be harder for them to read their lips if they were moving quickly, he reasoned.
Without fully waiting for Amyas's response, he made an attempt for the elf's hand, then guided him to the dance floor, where the nobility performed a variety of flashy moves. If Amyas even let him get that far, Arkash would speak "just make a bunch of wild movements, keep their eyes off your mouth," lowly without much movement in his mouth. He certainly didn't know how to dance, but he was light on his feet. If he could follow what the nobles were doing to some degree, they'd not draw attention to themselves.
"So, tell me more," Arkash began as he took both of Amyas's hands with his own calloused, tan ones. All the rough patches on his hands reflected years of manual labor, from the motion of swinging a pick, to a sword, to driving a shovel and later, a sword.
"Who do you collect from, what do you collect, and why?" Arkash began as he pulled on the elf's hands with a step forward to bring their forms closer. As he did, he watched the footing of the various exquisite dancers around him. They all seemed to be performing the same sort of eloquent dance; some were of a faster, almost impassioned pace while others took it slow.
Re: [Couronne] Necks out
Posted: Thu Jan 13, 2022 6:18 pm
by Amyas
“Well, I uh, ahem. It's more like I… take 'em from people who don't need 'em anymore. Usually I sell 'em, but I've kept a few things from time to time.” Though maybe that wasn't really a collector? The quick, off-the-cuff lie wasn't the most well thought-out of things, but it seemed to be shakily intact still, or at least Derek had the courtesy to not pick him up on it.
It was something of a relief when the stranger mentioned he was a mercenary, and in flagrant defiance of the Candor that relief was written in the elf's eyes. If he was to tell the truth, he seemed the kind who'd understand. At the very least, he didn't feel the type to rat him out.
“I wanna know that too,” He replied with a nod, before lowering his voice. “Almost feels like there's been some kinda mistake, to be honest.” He did not belong here, yet here he was nonetheless. Things had come too far to feel accidental, but deliberation didn't seem to fit either.
“Huh?” Was all Amyas managed to vocalise before Derek dragged him to the dance floor, mild confusion turning to surprise before he could even begin to talk about how he didn't dance—or at least didn't dance the noble waltz, or whatever this was.
What it was, was the heart of where these monsters lurked. He might have entered their foreign world, but the thief had done his best to stick to its outskirts, keeping a slightly less uncomfortable distance from the rest of those attending for the most part. It hadn't done anything to avoid their whispers, and a number of times he'd had the concerning thought that perhaps he was dragging more attention to himself, but the fractional difference in his discomfort was something the elf clung to like a limpet.
Whatever callouses had adorned Amyas' fingers had disappeared years ago, forced out when skin had turned to ivory, leaving behind their smooth touch. They gripped a little tighter than they needed to, and every move Amyas made as he tried to follow his partner was clumsy and a tad anxious, but overall the pair seemed to slip into the crowd. Mostly. At least they hadn't stepped on any toes.
What the thief hadn't done was let his gaze slip from Derek's face — or at least, his mask — his eyes firmly locked as their bodies moved. Divorced from meaningless distance, he chose instead to blot the world out. In a moment or two, a panicked thought would tell him to stay alert, that turning away from the nobility was akin to asking for death. In this moment, there was just the two of them, a microcosm forged as temporary respite.
“Nobody special, just… the one's who look like they'll manage.” He quietly left out the worse times, when he'd settle for the ones who didn't. “It's just to get by, really. Nothin' more than that.”
Re: [Couronne] Necks out
Posted: Mon Jan 17, 2022 2:09 pm
by Arkash
His cold, analytic demeanor was thinly masked as they entered the dance floor. His focus upon them, the nobles, often awarded him a lock of eye contact, to which he smiled and bowed his head to dismiss any engagement. More than a few noses curled in his direction, which was good. He had no intention of drawing their interest or desire. His focus remained on their surroundings as he closed the distance with Amyas, and brought their bodies close. Daravinic dancing was nothing like the sorts of dances they held in Lorien, not that Arkash had ever even attended one such dance.
His own nose curled, and with some effort, he took the lead with the taller elf. Arkash's digits brushed the softer palms of the elf's glossy skin, and his brow furrowed beneath his mask. Regardless, he stepped in and guided Amyas's corresponding foot back. next was a sort of dip in the leg, a half hop that saw him step back, and guide Amyas toward him by both hands.
Arkash paused and began to flit about the room with his sharp eyes, which appeared to linger around the feet of the surrounding nobility. His brows raised before he returned his gaze to the elf, and he resumed the dance. A step diagonally saw him pull Amyas the long way around, as though the taller man was orbiting him. Next came the simple-looking twirl that they did, and Arkash kept both hands joined with the elf's as he motioned the taller man to spin, and drew his arms over the top of his head.
When Amyas came back around to face him, their arms were crossed. Arkash looked at their joined hands for a moment with blank confusion to line his glare. Then, he spun himself around in a similar fashion and corrected their hold.
"Sorry," he spoke at last. "I haven' done this dance before," he explained a portion of the truth and smiled beneath his mask. While the dance continued in a series of similar movements, Arkash considered what was said. He'd already fingered the elf for a thief, and none of what was said came of any surprise to him. He did frown beneath the visage of the dragon's skull and breathed in deeply while he considered the elf's stance.
When it came to performing the twirl again, Arkash twirled in tandem just to save their arms from crossing again, though that wasn't meant to be. How did they do it? His eyes continued their glance about the surrounding bodies while he tried to discern how one was meant to perform the first steps of the waltz.
A brief hum escaped his lips while he considered his angle. "How do 'ew eat?" he asked. He already knew the taller man was lithe, bearing the ratty sort of build Arkash had sustained most of his life. "Is 'ew belly full every day, or do 'ew wonder if ew'll eat at all? Can 'ew tell me right now where's ew' suppa comin' from?" Despite the press of his questions, his eyes were hard set on the surrounding couples and dancers, this time locked on their hands as they moved above their heads... At least until that familiar recognition struck. His gaze returned to the elf expectantly before he next spoke.
"Do you lie awake in 'ew straw longin' faw tha' one good haul?" he asked as he moved in to perform the twirl once more, and guided Amyas's arms around properly so that they didn't tangle, and stuck the move well. "D'ew spend 'ewa future riches in 'ew head while chewing 'ewa moldy bread?"
Arkash didn't expect answers, as he moved from question to question with uncanny familiarity. If Amyas was anything like he was before Fayeth and Asmodei had found him, then Arkash already knew the answers to all those questions. Of course, he might have overstepped. Was he projecting himself on the elf? Seeing things that weren't there?
"Maybe just for a day..." Arkash began his offer, "you'd like to a'tually spend 'em riches, eh? Eat prop'ly, wear diff'ren' clothes, get 'ew family somefin' nice?" he paused a moment, and let the elf absorb what it was that Arkash was saying, on the off-chance he hadn't already lost the boy. "Who says 'ew can't, eh? How's abou' givin' it a go?" He grinned beneath his mask, the sort of smile that reflected in his eyes. "Jus' do some collectin' wiv me an I'll show 'ew sumfin' propa'."
Re: [Couronne] Necks out
Posted: Tue Feb 15, 2022 3:33 pm
by Amyas
Then again, perhaps they didn't fit in in the slightest. Perhaps their slow, ghastly mockery of the nobility's steps made them stand out all the more: the outsiders trying their best in a place they truly didn't belong in.
A laugh escaped him as it came to light that neither of them knew what they were doing.
“Well, yer doin' fine by my reck'nin'. 'f anyone asks, just say it's a new style o'... whatever this is.” To experiment, Amyas spun himself around, breaking off the grip before their arms crossed, giving a quiet "hm" at the results.
Have you ever wondered?
Between the blink of an eye, a night atop a rooftop occurs. A cobbled together thing, a far cry from the gilded rot of those bearing down from on high. The cool breeze blows past the pair of you, sitting in silence until a question tumbles free.
What it's like up there, I mean. To be one of them.
Of course you have: when the gnawing of your belly fills your mind; when the glamour of your prize dazzles your eye. It's nothing but a bit of fun, an impossibly bright spot only fit to dwell in the realm of dreams. And like a dream, the thought is so far away from reality. All you can really conjure is the thought of everything caked in wealth, with a hot bath and a meal every night. That earns you a laugh from the other man.
From all the stuff that gets spread around about them… Wonder if they even eat at all.
There is a reason such a gulf exists, after all. They are monsters, true monsters, who border on divinity themselves. Whatever limits they possess are far beyond the ken of the common folk.
Still put the shivers in you, eh? Fair enough. ...How about this, though? One day, we'll be up there too. Be like them. Be better than them. They all have their heads among the stars, but we? We'll keep ourselves firmly with our roots.
But if only one of you managed to climb the ladder that wasn't there?
Then you'd better damn tell me what it's like!
“...Yeah. Yeah, I've thought about it before. 'ow could I not? Don't go lookin' for 'em, but don't mean I don't wonder what it'd be like sometimes.” This ball is not that dream. It is the kind of insight given to a caged bird; the position of a novelty, of a prize, a wondering when they will eat you alive with their faces hidden from God. Oh, it'd be enough for a good story, but this is not that dream; it's nothing more than a glimpse.
“What do you collect, though? 's all very well and good sayin' that, but I ain't gonna agree to—” Something he didn't know anything about? Exactly what he'd done with this ball, in other words? He had already flung himself into the lions' den at this point; how much farther could he possibly fall?
“I just mean… I'd like to know a li'l bit more before I agree to anythin'.”
Besides, Derek was nothing like the Entente. He was mortal, or regular enough to seem that way, the cracks and chinks of his imperfection giving purchase to Amyas' questions.
Re: [Couronne] Necks out
Posted: Wed Feb 16, 2022 4:56 am
by Arkash
A brief grin pulled at his lips at the compliment to his dancing skills, and Arkash bowed his head in a gesture of gratitude. The discerning glare in his eye reflected that he knew he wasn't doing well, at least by his own standards, but he continued to watch and examine, studying the steps that the nobles took, to and fro. A fast learner as he displayed, but the rhythm of his movements was still broken by the odd pause and the significant correction.
When Amyas spun and their arms crossed, Arkash delivered his probing questions. There was a purpose to his asking, beyond conversation and the measure of his feats. It was ambition. How far did Amyas reach? Was he content to toil away in alleys, picking pockets and slipping the goods of Magus homes into his pockets? Or did he long for more?
Amyas affirmed that he did, that he dared to dream of a better life. It wasn't the likes of the alabaster prison they'd crossed within, but the dream was still there. Arkash smiled beneath his mask, and bowed his head again in approval.
The younger elf apparently had some wits about him too; he wouldn't agree to anything he didn't know the context of. Arkash rolled his head to the side and nodded while he thought before he broke away and extended one arm behind him while leaning down to dip with the other, then drew his right foot back in to reclaim the taller man's other hand.
"How's your lock knowledge?" He asked after a pause. "I've got a few odds'n'ends that needs worked, but I gotta know whatcha can handle," he began to explain before guiding the elf back a few deliberate paces. "Cylinders, padlocks, combination dials..." He trailed on. "Ever crack a safe before?"
He gave significant pause for the elf to recount his experience, then spoke "it's alright if you 'aven't, jus' tryin'a finger a good spot," quickly. Even so, he seemed to study Amyas through his questions, as if he could read lies or boasting with naught but the icy glare beneath his mask.
After the elf had answered, or if he hadn't, Arkash resumed his line of inquiry. "And last question..." He began with enough pause to add weight to the ask.
"How good are you good at keeping your knife clean?"