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"well aren't we in a playful mood--" he laughs, gently booping her nose with his finger. "alright, alright. affection it is!" he doesn't seem to worry at all that her fangs may hurt him, fully trusting the other as he uses his free hand to rub underneath her chin and up to her ears.
send chomp to bite my muse ( accepting ) // @bardicarchetype .
for @bardicarchetype -- it's very long, hence under a cut, this seemed like the easiest way. hope this works! very long post, don't click Keep Reading if you're on mobile!
When Ikithon finally left the room, the duke sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands down his face. That had been an absurdly long meeting, and while on the surface he understood it, it still felt like a waste of time. The handful of them had been tasked with ‘overseeing’ the Festival of Joy, but it wasn’t as if they had any hand in controlling the festival, in writing policy for it… So why drag them together?
Vepar looked over at the other three and sat up straighter. He stretched his wings out–the flecks of mottled gold and copper in the black feathers caught the golden afternoon sunlight beautifully–before folding them neatly around the chair and scooting up closer to the table.
“Alright. I’ll try to be more… succinct than Trent,” Vepar said. “High Lord Eris,” he nodded to the newest nobleman in Zadash, someone whose presence Vepar absolutely did not understand, but was willing to accept, “you are tasked with ensuring the city does not burn to the ground. I understand you have an… affinity for fire.”
The archfey smiled. He sat–or lounged, really, making the chair look like a throne that had been carved just for him–in a beam of the golden late-afternoon sunlight. Dressed in flowing robes of copper and gold, autumn leaves braided in through his long red hair, he looked rested and refreshed, as though he’d simply been enjoying relaxing all the while Ikithon had gone on.
“Understood,” Eris said. “I shall keep the ash out of Zadash until the festival ends.”
Vepar narrowed his dark eyes at him. “And preferably long after.”
“Mm.” Eris picked up a goblet of the wine Ikithon had treated them to–something almost acceptable, and undoubtedly fine by human standards–and took another sip. “You know what this is, don’t you?”
“The… wine?”
“No. Our placement as guardians of the festival.”
“Enlighten us.”
“It’s a test. A game. He wants something from each of us, and hopes to catch us each in a massive enough failing to step in and help us… It should be entertaining, really. I look forward to it.” Eris looked over at Vepar, taking him in: a pretty man who almost looked human, with soft black curls and warm golden-brown skin, save for the wings on him. Massive feathered wings, for the most part a rich black, but mottled with lovely metallic shades here and there. This would be a creature worth keeping, he mused, worth bringing home when he was done with all of this.
Vepar frowned at the aggressively uncomfortable way Eris was studying him. Something in the fey’s eyes made him damned glad to be in armor–not that it would likely do much against him.
“Be that as it may, we’ll conduct our duties to the best of our abilities. This is a weeklong festival, and we’ll doubtless all be tired by the end, so we’ll lean on each other however we have to.
"Prince Stolas, I understand you volunteered to host the ball on the final night? Thank you for that. In addition to those preparations, you’ve been tasked with…” Ensuring everyone is happy. That was how Trent had phrased it, but Trent also made it sound like a damned threat. “Morale. There are hundreds of artists, vendors, shop-owners, and the like, who are involved in the Festival. Please work with them to help ensure they have what they need. Minimize chaos.
"Sir Integra, you’ll be handling security at all over the larger events. No doubt you are aware, but there has always been a sort of… counterculture version of the festival, usually run by criminals, and they have frequently delighted in disrupting official events. We have next to no intelligence on how that happens or what they’re going to do. I recognize that Trent instructed you to… learn about their operation by any means necessary? But I’m using my authority,” which was arguably greater than Ikithon’s, depending on one’s point of view, “to countermand that aspect of the order. Just keep the events safe. Don’t kick any hornet nests we don’t have to.
"Does anyone have any questions?”
Eris held a hand out, examining his rings in the sunlight. “Are you single?”
“Does anyone have any relevant questions?”
With Ikithon’s departure, Stolas’ posture relaxes, if only a little. He breathes a small sigh of relief and rotates his shoulders. His fingers circle the stem of his glass, bringing the wine to his lips. He appraises the aroma first, circling the contents and gazes into the dark liquid. Deciding he isn’t fond of the taste it leaves on his tongue, or letting the beverage muddle his senses, he sets it back down and turns his attention to Eris and Vepar. Vibrant, garnet eyes flit between the pair curiously, though it was unmistakable he found Eris’ antics… exhausting. Curious, but exhausting nonetheless, at least for the moment anyhow.
Something about Eris’s words feels like sand chafing against skin. There could very well be a level of truth to them, and he isn’t certain which infuriates him more: Ikithon’s attempt to keep them as marionettes of sorts, or Eris, shiny and new, inserting himself into every detail and spitting it out so plainly.
“Then I suppose we ought to be at our absolute best if we wish to succeed and pass his little test. A good challenge has never scared any of us away before, why should it now?”
Lips painted a midnight shade curl into an easy smile. The prince places a hand over his heart as he addresses Vepar directly. “It is my pleasure. It is a rare occurrence in which I host such grand parties, and I really ought to put the ballroom to good use. I intend to have the gardens prepared for mingling as well, and perhaps a few, mmm…” He waggles his fingers, magic sparking between them in playful little bursts. “Games for the guests to enjoy and indulge in. A dancing contest, a hedge maze, the likes. Perhaps a blindfolded tasting of some imported delights? Nothing too overwhelming, of course.” He leans back in his seat, resting a pale cheek in an open palm.
“Energizing our vendors and artists shouldn’t be a difficult task. Curating the happiness of those around me is one of my specialties, after all. I will visit each personally and ensure their needs are met, that they feel appreciated and welcomed for the coming festival. I may be on the prowl for something special myself….” Perhaps he might find what he is looking for. After all, they will have local and traveling merchants joining them for the festivities. It would be the perfect opportunity to take a little glance at their wares.
Arctic blue eyes remain trained on the untouched wineglass before her. She herself had not participated, though it was poured nonetheless. Gloved fingers were bridged, laced and supporting her chin. She listens carefully, committing everything between them to memory. While she regards them each with some level of respect, there was no one at that table she trusted or respected more than Vepar, and even he came second to someone that wasn’t present.
Eris was young and new; a spitfire that felt uncontrollable and unpredictable. He somehow has some form of sway, and nevermind the fact that he was Fey. Being convoluting and tricky was likely second nature to him. Stolas, relatively young as well, wasn’t untrustworthy by any means, but he limited himself greatly. To what end, she could not understand. But again, there were methods and mannerisms she didn’t quite agree with in him either, though she certainly would trust him long before she would ever consider putting any faith in Eris. That left Duke Vepar. She regards him with the utmost respect, and would even consider his orders to be well beyond the Archmage’s. He was considerate, intelligent, and level-headed with honorable qualities in her eyes.
She gives a small nod of understanding, head tilting in his direction as an indication of her acknowledgement. “Understood. We will not act without reasonable cause, and any altercations will be handled quietly and discreetly. I will have my most powerful resource placed in the heart of activity during the events. We will distribute security as evenly as possible without imposing or causing discomfort to participants and townsfolk.”
Both Integra and Stolas give Eris a look for his query. Stolas looks startled and surprised, while she only provides a cool and dismissive look of disapproval.
After a moment’s silence, Stolas gives a short series of taps to the table, sharp nails clicking softly against the polished surface.
“Actually, I do have…just one. Has this festival not been a recurring event here in Zadash? Why, in all planes of existence, are we just now overseeing it? Does that not…. raise alarm to anyone else? That there is suddenly some significance to it all?”
At the end, as Stolas was asking their question, Vepar raised a hand and made a subtle, twirling gesture; a spiral of golden sparks drifted away from him, stretching out into the rest of the room like extensions of the sunlight pouring in. In just a heartbeat or two, certainly before Stolas was done speaking, they had become a protective web of silence, cloistering the group away from any prying eyes. And although he didn’t say it, Vepar had to resist the urge to let his lip curl; he had felt a few eavesdropping spells fizzle out under the spreading web.
“It’s… certainly strange,” he agreed. “From what I understand, there’s a different council to help organize things every year, but there have never been two councils as there are this year. Why a general and a handful of nobles are on it… your guess is as good as mine.” Vepar folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. It felt strange to be in regular clothing, out of his usual armor. “Trent did ask me to use my soldiers to reinforce the local garrison for the festival. Perhaps he knows more about some… hidden threat? Than we do.”
Eris stood up and walked over to the window. “What was that you did just now? The magic?”
“Just added a touch of privacy to the room.”
“Why?”
“If you cannot imagine, High Lord, then you are a more innocent lamb than I took you for.”
Eris scoffed. “I see. So, none of you trust Trent either? Which puts us in an interesting position. This festival of yours… something tells me it’s going to be the most exciting this city has seen in a long, long time…”
-
In the House of the Golden Sun…
“You’re sure you’re alright?” Levi asked, trying to keep anything that might be misconstrued as disapproval out of his voice as he watched the pretty lavender-colored tiefling get dressed.
Molly flipped his hair free of his collar, smiling despite his back being turned to the lithe little human. “I’m sure that the last person you need to worry about is me.”
“Kind of my job.”
“Mmmhmm.” Spinning gracefully on his heel, Molly gracefully dropped to one knee where Levi was sitting. In the same fluid motion, he rested his hands on the human’s knee, then rested his chin on them and smiled, humming as he looked up. “And that’s all it is, isn’t it? You’re just doing your job… every night, after the customers go home.” He kept the words playful, but there was an edge behind them.
With a quiet scoff, Levi grabbed one of his horns–his grip gentle, even if he knew he had standing permission to do so–and tugged Molly’s head up and away from his knee. “At least one of us is.” He stood up, making Molly do the same, although the tiefling towered over him once they were on their feet. Levi let go of his horn and just held onto him by the shoulders. For a moment, each looked into the other’s eyes, one frowning, the other searching, before they both turned away.
“With any luck,” Molly said cheerfully, heading for the door, “we’ll hear this secret festival nonsense today. See you downstairs?”
“Mm.”
“Isn’t this delightful? Breakfast, every afternoon!” Humming cheerfully, Molly made his way down.
-
Fjord, who had been showing his new outfit off to Adler, beamed when Molly made his way down. “Hey! The tailor brought it by today! It looks good, right?”
“Would I ever lead you astray when it comes to clothing yourself?”
Fjord’s smile was awkward, even if the look in his eyes was a happy enough one, trusting. He shook his head at Molly, never quite sure how to interact with him, and smoothed a hand down the front of the linen tunic. “So what kind of stuff happens at this festival anyway?”
Suppressing a wince, Molly curled up in a loveseat and started shuffling through his cards. “Something tells me,” he murmured, “and by something I certainly do mean the cards, that we’re going to find out very soon…”
-
The guard who knocked on the door to Eula’s office had very wide eyes and was sweating profusely, more nervous than he had ever been in his young life. In theory, everything was okay, he knew that much, but to actually have the Shishigumi walking behind him? This was terrifying. Their boss was a beautiful deer-person of some sort, graceful and serious, but somehow no less sinister than the two well-dressed lions who followed him in.
“Um, M-m-miss Eula?” The young guard asked, knocking on her door. “The Sh-sh-sh-shhh—” Fuck, why was he so scared? He took a deep breath. “The Shishigumi are here to see you?”
Though the establishment was not yet open to the public, there was a business about the halls and rooms that would have convinced anyone otherwise. Beings of all sorts move with purpose: some are tending to linens, while others check lighting and decor, some stick to the kitchens where they can continue to prepare hot meals and different spreads, others worry about sweeping, and quite a few go about simply offering breaks or to take over tasks, ensuring no one is overwhelmed or overworking themselves.
Karina flits about, busying herself in a variety of different areas so she can maintain eyes wherever she can. With the festival fast approaching, preparations were well underway. They needed to tend to the place but also themselves just as much. It wouldn’t do well for anyone to drop in the peak of it all, or even just the beginning. She steps over Wren’s legs with an armful of folded blankets and towels to distribute. Meanwhile, he just so happens to be lounging like one of those princely housecats that gets whatever it wants (and is thoroughly in her way…or at least annoying to look at). It earns him a low growl and the swat of her tail in passing.
“You should be up and helping!” The words come out as a hiss.
“I am helping by staying out of the way,” he fires back teasingly.
“I just had to step over you, Wren Atlas! You’re insufferable. You’ve been here long enough, you know the drill!”
“Feisty today, are we Rina?~ Did you have breakfast, by chance? These peach and fig pastries are simply to die for.”
“Then keel over already.”
Her words spark a sudden burst of laughter. Wren wipes his mouth as he finishes his breakfast stretches. He rises to his feet and salutes her. “Heading to the kitchens now.”
“Not to stuff your face, I hope. Seriously. Get. To. Work.” Despite the clipped tone, she knows he’ll pitch in. Wren has always carried himself with a carefree and lazy air, but when push comes to shove, or help is needed, he’s entirely reliable. Karina also knows he purposefully likes to get under her skin…Yet somehow, she doesn’t hate him.
“I’m on it, I swear!” With that, he disappears to take care of his dishes and get to work. Whether or not he sticks to the kitchens is questionable, but Wren is always willing to help where it’s needed, and today would be full of opportunities to provide it.
-
“It looks fantastic. I didn’t think I could imagine you in anything different, but this compliments you very nicely.” His gaze sweeps over Fjord, respectful but thorough.
A fond smile has made itself at home on Adler’s features. The gentle curl of lips, a small tilt of head, the lazy sway of his tail, and a warm shine to his eyes. Their newest arrivals have settled in quite nicely, making a home for themselves. He could tell comfort was becoming a regular thing as their personalities began to blossom. When Molly enters, he gives him a welcoming nod of acknowledgement.
“The festival is different each year. Some of the same activities, or overall base exists, but you never really know what you’re in for.” He pauses with the realization.
“Oh! It will be your first with us! That’s exciting! Or not, depending on how you do with high energy functions that are ongoing for a period of time, rather than just one night. But still, I think you might come to enjoy it.”
Jester practically dances into the room. She sweeps over to Molly to greet him with false kisses on the cheek, meeting the air around him before flinging her arms around Fjord. “Woooooow! You look handsome! These must be new~” She walks her fingers up his chest, dazzling sunshine smile on her lips before she waves a hand at Adler.
“I got THE BEST sleep ever last night. My dream was soooo crazy and fun! Also, The Traveler totally loves this place. He says it’s like, his favorite that we’ve visited so far. And have you seen the decorations out the windows?! This festival must be a really big deal.”
-
It didn’t take magic for her to sense unease or discomfort. Though perhaps it played a part in the way she was able to occasionally read others, providing a calming balm to the frayed edges of their feelings. Then again, the mere mention of the Shishigumi was enough to cause some to sweat. Eulalie herself rarely felt fear, though to say she was absent of it would be a bold lie indeed. It was more that she was capable of channeling it into quiet anticipation and a sort of stillness. It was her responsibility to keep her fellow companions safe and happy, after all, so a certain level of collection, of calm and control, is to be expected.
Crossing one leg over the other behind her desk, Eulalie folds her hands atop her knee, a portrait of elegance; formal and formidable. Today she dons a cream gown that only reaches over one shoulder bearing a somewhat modest cut down the front, and a teasing slit up from the bottom to the top of her thigh. The dress is only as long as it takes to reach the ground, however, and no longer. Accessories are minimal; she wears a thin chain with a ring hanging from it and a few bracelets at her wrist; her ears bearing hanging golden suns. Her tail sways slowly, almost idly, head tilting to a side as though she might be able to make out their forms beyond the closed door. She does this only for a moment before inviting them in.
What the Shishigumi wanted or needed with her or the House of the Golden Sun was beyond her, but they will surely make their desires known.
“I will see them now. Let them pass.” Her voice is steady, but not firm. And when the door opens, she does well to meet her nervous guard with a warm and placating smile. “Thank you. You can leave us now, you’ve done well.”
To the Shishigumi’s leader she gestures to one of the plush armchairs across from her. “Please, have a seat. Would you like anything to drink?”
“Thank you,” Louis said, and took a seat in the chair she indicated. He was an elegant creature–a humanoid shape, but with the sweet, soft head and features of a deer, and his pelt was a smooth golden-chestnut. He appeared to be unarmed, and was dressed fairly plainly in neat black clothing. Everything about him looked composed, not so much as a hair out of place. Even when he leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, it was a completely at-ease gesture, comfortable. This place might be bustling with excitement, and Eulalie’s guard might have been barely willing to leave the room, but the young buck was calm. Serene–
Save for the look in his eyes. Soft and pretty as they were, there was a dangerous hardness there, an edge that promised not just intelligence, but the possibility of cruelty. The two Leonin behind him were quite possibly the safer of her guests to get entangled with. One of them looked young and wide-eyed, his dark mane as carefully styled as he could manage, and he was struggling to stop smiling and staring at everything. The other one, his light eyes a crystalline blue, was focused. Not violent, not threatening, just focused. He would ensure his boss walked out of here no matter what. Festival or no, his guard wasn’t coming down. Not when it came to this damned deer.
As for the damned deer, he took out a parchment scroll, sealed with a wax Shishigumi seal, tied with a golden ribbon.
“We appreciate your patience, and your welcome. And, might I say, you look beautiful–as radiant as the rumors say.” He placed the parchment on her desk, within her reach, before leaning back. “As you know, judgement of the Underfestival has fallen to the Shishigumi this year. An honor we intend to take seriously. Not as seriously as others have in years past,” he added, a hint of wry amusement in his voice, as he knew full well there had been fatalities when other criminal groups ran it, “but still. We expect all participants to play by the rules.
"If you break that seal, you are agreeing on behalf of your House, entering the contest. I hope you do. Know this: one House has received a different set of instructions from the others. I will not divulge who, or why. It could be yours, it could be another. Whether or not it matters, well…” He twitched an eyebrow and gave a tiny, dismissive shrug, as if to say maybe that wasn’t so important after all.
Once Eulalie took the scroll and broke the seal, the crime-lord waited patiently for her to read it–while Agata tried his best not to wiggle with pride, excited because he had been working for weeks to make his handwriting elegant and formal, wanting the privilege of writing all of the scrolls out.
The UNDERFESTIVAL COMMANDMENTS
FIRSTLY, ALL HOUSES PARTICIPATING IN THE UNDERFESTIVAL MUST BE HOUSES OF SIN AND DELIGHT. Participants must provide gambling, drug use, alcohol, sex, or all of the above, as their regular business model, yet must also be in good standing; Houses who abuse their staff or allow their customers to suffer unduly are not invited to participate in the Underfestival.
SECONDLY, ALL HOUSES MUST MAINTAIN STRICT SECRECY WHILE PARTICIPATING. If any members of a House are detained by law enforcement, or anyone acting in the capacity of law enforcement, that House is disqualified.
THIRDLY, NEW TO THIS YEAR, all House participants must be willing; no one maybe ordered to undertake a particular quest. If coercion is discovered, the House will be disqualified and the owner subsequently disemboweled and dismembered, to be then devoured by the Shishigumi.
UNDERFESTIVAL QUESTS– These quests must be completed, in no particular order, between the tolling of the city bells; firstly, the bell that opens the Festival of Joy, and before the tolling of the final bell on the final night. These quests have been determined by the Shishigumi and must all be completed to qualify for the Underfestival Trophy, as well as a year free of paying tributes to any criminal organization, for protection or otherwise.
Bedazzle. Steal, bejewel, and return a livestock animal, without harming the animal, to a business owner or noble house within Zadash city limits.
Vandalize. Deface a storefront window and door, in a manner both whimsical and obscene, refraining from any imagery that may be construed as threatening or prejudiced.
Corrupt. Persuade musicians at any austere, official ceremony, whether or not it pertains to the Festival of Joy, to perform the lewd ballad Zaddy Got Back, without the musicians being alerted to the fact this is an Underfestival quest.
Exhibit. One nude dance must be performed by three employees of each House, at a public fountain during daylight hours, without being overtly crude. Masks are optional for this quest.
Ring the Bell. The Trost Belltower is under constant guard. Whatever member of each House rings this bell, they must not be seem going up, but they MUST be seen leaving the belltower, post ringing it in an inappropriate manner at an inappropriate time of day.
Classy Balls. At least sex-worker of each house must be invited to the final-night ball, by a titled member of nobility. Said noble must be aware they are inviting a sex-worker, but invite them as a personal choice, without any exchange of money, goods, or services. At that ball, said house-member must manage to place a red stain somewhere prominent on their noble.
Feed. Prepare and distribute 100 meals, of any healthy and sustaining variety, to people in need throughout Zadash. All participating members must be green from head to toe at all times during this quest, from preparation to distribution, displaying no other colors. Any loss of full green coverage, whether by their doing or not, will result in instant disqualification for the House.
Await. Await the Black Envelope. Throughout the Underfestival, each participating House will be given a black envelope containing their private quest. From the time it is delivered to them, the quest contained within must be completed in no more than three hours, and in strict accordance with its terms.
Guzzle. Break into a tavern and replace all of their alcohol with water. The water must be glittery and/or pink, but it cannot be flavored. Distribute the stolen liquor to city guards; extra points may be awarded for those who get guards the drunkest.
Improve. Make the life of someone uninvolved with your House demonstrably better, in a matter that does not complicate or endanger their life or livelihood, and which is sustainable; the change must be lasting, even if it stems from a single item or moment. Only one submission for Improve may be sent from each House, but it is encouraged that multiple members attempt it, then confer together to decide which submission to send in.
“There is, of course, also one ‘impossible’ task,” Louis added, after giving Eulalie plenty of time to read the paper. “If a member of your House can seduce Sir Integra–properly seduce her, consent must be informed and enthusiastic–then that achievement will count for every other item on the list being accomplished. The sex much occur in this House, and be between Integra and someone already under your employ.
"So. Any questions–about any of this?”
--
INTERVAL--
Integra returns later in the day, when the sun's warmth begins to fade, golden light bleeding into the sky to change the brilliant blue into stark oranges, sweet pinks, and blood red.
As she passes Alucard, a thin scroll of paper is pressed to his chest. When she moves to occupy the chair behind her personal desk, Integra smiles. "I figured you might not take my word for it." She gestures towards th paper left with him. "Proof of the magic used by the Healer, and the findings. Which, you will be pleased to know, are none. I am in perfect health."
His long fingers closed around the paper–precious more for the fact that it had been in her hand than for the proof it allegedly contained. The appointment with a Healer was not news to the vampire; if Integra thought he hadn’t stalked her every movement, following along from down in the tunnels under the city, she was sorely mistaken.
Still, he smiled in response, and gave her the smallest of bows–a gesture of respect that was perhaps too familiar, too intimate in the way his eyes stayed on hers, burning. He appreciated her gesture and her information, but that did not feel like enough. None of this felt like enough. Something was changing in their city, the balance of power shifting in ways that were impossible to ignore–the world was starting to tilt, and Alucard would be damned anew if he would allow her to slide off its edge…
Especially considering that other things were sliding.
Such as her control of him.
The leash was coming loose, the collar falling to bits; day by day, a little more eroded away. Freedom, unlimited freedom and unrestricted power, were almost within reach. He could taste them, they were so close–
But he couldn’t see the reasons in Integra’s eyes, and that was infuriating. Alucard knew he could just ask, of course. He could ask and she might tell him–but the thought was there, preventing him. What if? What if she didn’t know? What if this wasn’t on purpose? What if, after all this time, he really was about to receive his freedom? If she didn’t want that, and he asked, she might manage to tighten the knots again. And, however loyal the vampire might be to this woman, it was always there, simmering under the surface: the thought that he might betray her. Not for money, not for romance, not for any earthly delight–
But for freedom?
Maybe.
It was too tantalizing a possibility to simply offer it up on a platter. So, baring his teeth in a smile, he tucked both the worries and the hungers away, unrolled the scroll, and read it over.
“You didn’t go to the handsome new elven healer? When I went to such lengths to ensure you would go only to the best. I’ve heard he’s quite handsome–and pliable. A commanding presence such as yours might have had him on his knees in no time–swearing fealty, of course.” He tossed the paper back down on her desk as if it didn’t matter, as if it wasn’t the manifestation of everything that ever stood or grew between them.
“Ah, well.
"So. Are we prepared for this festival?”
-
She was more than willing to share privacy with the individuals who come to her now. After all, she had no debts to pay, no quarrels with the Shishigumi that she knew of - only the festival to look forward to and expect.
There’s a slow and idle sway to her tail as Eulalie welcomes her guests. She understands they are there for official business, and though her demeanor continues to suggest one of natural ease, she knows better than to let her guard down. While he mentions rumors of her beauty – which earns a saccharine smile – she is well aware of the tales surrounding the Shishigumi. She is most certain there are families who tell stories of them to misbehaving children in the hopes of corralling them into better behavior. Whether or not those tales are exaggerated could be…debatable, but less than likely. Each member was taken into careful consideration. There was Louis, obviously the head of the organization and the one in charge of the situation now - and the two Leonin. Each of them was to be considered a deadly force should it come down to it. Though there would be, and should be, no reason or cause for alarm in their meeting, she’s done business far too long not to be cautious and aware of the company she keeps. Which is precisely why, and she will never tell a soul that she prefers business with the Shishigumi over most others. They were discreet enough, formal in their own rights, powerful, and respectful. Beyond that, they honored their word, making them trustworthy.
“Despite the rumors I’ve heard of the Shishigumi, I do have to say, I’m happy to know the festival is in such strong and meticulous hands.” A compliment of her own, and it was true. Past festivals, while fun and true to their nature, had always held a certain aspect of danger. And with recent ones, loss, too. These festivities were meant to bring excitement to the participants and those they interact with. Every task was meant to leave an impression of some kind, and for days and nights, minutes and hours, Zadash would be brilliantly filled with a symphony of sounds: laughter, music, pleasure, revelry at its finest and most boisterous.
There is no need to think twice. Eulalie breaks the seal and reads the commandments. His words did not deter her in the least. She had new and old companions seeking thrills, and the House of the Golden Sun would not shy away from the Underfestival. The first paragraph leading to the commandments earns him a look. Houses who abuse their staff or allow their customers to suffer unduly are not invited to participate in the Underfestival.
Something soft etches itself into her features, a warmth bleeding into her expression that mingles with the respect she already held for him. A small nod is given in his direction before she reads the rest of the details.
By the time she reaches the end, a hearty and rich little laugh escapes. Eulalie swiftly brings a hand to her lips, murmuring an apology and rolls the parchment up. A dazzling smile blooms over perfect lips, tail swishing with joy. “Oh, you have certainly outdone yourselves this year, my friends. This is certain to be a remarkable and memorable experience for everyone involved.” Her head tilts before she sets the instructions down and steeples her fingers.
“Are there any limits to how many individuals from the House can participate? I have a handful of new friends who may or may not wish to participate in some of the quests, but perhaps not all of them. It seems silly to ask, but one can never be too cautious about the specifics.”
A gentle knock sounds on the door, a kind and uncertain face peers in. Eulalie gives a small nod to welcome them in while conversation is paused, and they proceed. A serving tray is brought to rest upon the desk. It bears a small assortment of sandwiches, a few pastries, and tea is left for them to pick at. They bow respectfully and hastily take their leave, unwilling to stay too long. Privacy is respected, after all.
Louis gave an appreciative nod about the refreshments. Maintaining that perfect poise of his, he gladly shared them with Eulalie, without hesitation or any apparent fear of poisoning. If poison had made it into this House, then things were so very wrong that no amount of caution would save him, he mused. Still, formality was maintained; although Louis ate and drank with her, the two Leonin behind him did not. They were here to guard him, and they did their job well.
“It’s not silly at all. You’re right. One can never be too cautious. And no, there’s no limit. Any of your people who wish to participate are welcome to. That actually brings us to another topic–there is one of your staff I’d be very interested in having a private conversation with. Just a conversation, nothing physical,” he added, since clarification was absolutely in order here, “and if he doesn’t wish to speak to me, there will be no repercussions. Still. If you get the chance to ask him, I’d be grateful for the chance to sit and talk with Levi Ackerman.” Since he’d had just enough of the tea service to be polite, and there were many more Houses to get to today, Louis stood up, smoothing his jacket as he did. “Whatever price you think appropriate, I’ll gladly pay it.”
While Louis spoke, Free looked over his shoulder, his cold eyes focusing hard on the Madam. The deer might be speaking casually about this meeting he wanted, but from the looks of it, the blue-eyed lion disapproved. Whether or not Louis was aware of said disapproval, he ignored it entirely, stepping back and offering a bow to Eulalie.
“Welcome to the Underfestival. I look forward to seeing how your House’s endeavors play out.
"By the way,” Louis added, as if by the way at this point in a conversation could ever actually be a casual addition, and not something of vital importance, “I heard a rumor that Archmage Trent Ikithon, may be aware of the Underfestival. Be careful. I don’t want involvement in this costing you, or any of yours, your life.” He bowed his head ever so slightly, then headed out, his bodyguards following after him.
-
Fjord watched as the pretty man and his intimidating guards left, then turned back to the others. Settling down, now that he had showed off his new outfit, he also joined in the extremely late breakfast. Was it even brunch? Or when you woke up this late in the afternoon, was everything just linner? Linner didn’t seem like a reasonably word, though… But it was sometime between lunch and dinner, and linner was better than dunch…
“You think that deer’s single?” he mused–not a question he meant to ask out loud. Blushing, Fjord cleared his throat and picked up some tea he didn’t especially want. “I mean. Just. You know. What’s it like, living the life of a hardened criminal? Do you, um, get to have romance? Relationships?”
“Nice save there, love, really.”
“Aw, Molly. I just…” Nope. Better to just glug the tea down.
Mollymauk shrugged, and ran his fingertips through Levi’s hair. “I think there’s opportunity for romance for all of us, if we’re open to it…” Although he looked relaxed, he wasn’t, not really; the tiefling was eager to see Eulalie emerge, hoping to hear about this Underfestival. It sounded terribly sordid and exciting–how could anyone not want to participate?
😍 - Do you have a specific character type that you usually find applies to your favorites?
😎 - Why did you choose your mun name? Does it mean something to you?
😍 - Do you have a specific character type that you usually find applies to your favorites?
the gentle ones with a lot of conviction - usually the last person you want to snap. but also like. as kind as they are - there seems to just be this one odd little thing about them, they usually have harmless quirks or something much more deeper goes on. kind cryptid energy basically. ( sol.omon who is a clairvoyant & unnerves people . white lily who has - accidentally - nearly doomed the world with her curiosity . va.sh who does not kill but oh. oh he can be so unnerving etc )
😎 - Why did you choose your mun name? Does it mean something to you?
I used to go by Vivi or Viv, which is still my nickname irl because I am not rlly out as NB, but it had such a feminine & overly cute-sy ring to it. which i know, i dress often in cute pastel colors but ehh. didn't want it as a name. Fuchs is just german for Fox & goes back to me adoring foxes soo much as animals. &,,,,,,, i have the meanest fox/witch cackle, especially while playing ffxiv so it just. fit. a third reason is, despite not being a natural red head, i dyed my hair red for so long my hair refuses to be anything else. even when i thought i grew it all out, when we tried dark purple it held for 2 showers until turning wine red & then brown red. I cannot escape.
Keyleth slumps against Solomon when she sits, shoulder pressing against his. The Ashari is mindful, however, of the rest of her body and tucks her legs in close, both arms wrapping around them to make herself smaller. She knew nothing about him, but he felt safer than most of the individuals she's encountered of late, and she didn't feel like being alone. "You look nice. Please be nice. Just for like...five minutes?"
he is not often touched by others. something about being a king and clairvoyant that made him generally unapproachable. it seemed whatever made others avoid him did not work on his new guest.
he blinks for a few seconds before chuckling and leaning slightly back against her.
"I'll tell you a little secret : it can be even longer than five minutes" if someone needed comfort, who was he to deny them? he slowly put an arm aroun keyleth, his hand gently rubbing over her shoulder. "...you want to talk about what got you upset?"
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@bardicarchetype sent: 🌙 for Shui (right?) and Keyleth! Snooze snooze snooze!
🍂} Now, it wasn't all that strange for the red haired cat to find himself napping outdoors. In fact, such might not be all that strange for any of the ribika. However, he didn't usually make a habit of napping when trying to socialize with others… Especially new found friends.
Be that as it may, though-- the afternoon warmth was proving all too inviting, the balance of shade from their comfortable space beneath a large tree not helping matters. And soon, before Shui had even fully realized it himself, the feline was dozing off...
Unintentionally leaning closer to the form beside his own, his shoulder was soon pressed gently against Keyleth's-- ears drooping forwards slightly, whilst his tail curled closer towards himself… And soon enough, a quiet purr could be noticed from the dozing cat. It was warm, and that surrounding warmth smelled of the lush forest… A scent that felt just as comfortable as if Shui were to be within his own home.
what kinds of emotions does your muse view as unwelcome or inconvenient?
Know thyself headcanon meme-ACCEPTING!
Jillian views guilt as an unwelcome and inconvenient emotion in all her verses and AUS.
This doesn’t apply to most regular times she messes up or hurts people-she can apologize and accept that fine enough. It specifically applies when her intuition or assumptions are proven wrong and cause harm to someone (a backfire to her common state of being a Judgy Jilly™️, if you will!)
It’s hard for her to admit she truly misjudged someone, and she finds that feeling one that leaves her both agitated and uncomfortably vulnerable.
I also think Jillian finds fear to be extremely unwelcome. Anger she can do-she can make use of anger or take that out on someone she feels wronged her. But fear is something she struggles to cope with, and it leaves her feeling small and powerless.
He was supposed to be waiting in another room for Vassago's return. In fact, he had been fast asleep, dozing in a patch of warm light in a big fluffy bed. But the sound of UNFAMILIAR voices and footfalls alerted the Growlithe to what he assumed to be an INTRUDER. Emitting a series of rough barks, he launches into motion down the corridors, suddenly hot on Vassago's heels and BITES the other person's jacket, jaw locking into place!
Vassago had been happily chatting with another goetia when he heard the sound of hurried paws from behind. Before he could reach out and stop his companion, Growlithe's teeth latched onto his guest's jacket.
