Life is Precious

Fina watched the mirth fade from his eyes in the shadow of memories long past. She so relished the pallor of avaricious faces as she undermined their accomplishments and safeguards. It was a hollow feeling as empty as the porcelain shell across her features. The joy was fleeting if it could even be called such. Maurice’s emotions had a depth that she did without, sensitivity clear in the soft thrum of his fingers about ceramic or through his dark tresses. The word to describe her was controlled or attentive. Words were just that, descriptors, never enough to contain meaning of substance. His words and gentle unease spoke beneath the view of her two, golden eyes. They ran over those same thoughts innumerable times before. How would they meet their end? How would they wish it? A soldier’s constant. No hesitation in Maurice’s spoken word. He was empty too.

Maurice spoke of masks and spoke his truth, their truth. He amused her with his similarity. In his eyes now, Fina saw the shifting of his thoughts with a celerity unmatched by the tongue of physical being. It was only now that their game would begin with the dropped truths and half-lies.

Fina enjoyed these convolutions perhaps because they were imitations as she was of some grander happening. In her games, the rules were neat and clearly defined, but the execution was muddled. That was how she imagined life to be when she caught her thoughts leaning towards the grand and theatrical.

She played out her short laugh, drole and disinterested as always, at his comments. “My, my! How keen you are. You think too much about the faces we wear; but then again, who am I to reprimand? My mask is my face in the literal sense as your mask is yours. When others see me, they see a part of themselves. I give no meaning to my face, others must. So I wonder what you see...

“And as for what I would change? My early life. If I were not me? Well, that’d be quite alright. Our lives are ever building diversions from one path to another. To change the earliest is to change the whole.” For one, another. Maurice’s answers were vague, obviously so in her eyes, and she would return them in kind. Fina allowed him the pace of their exchanges to see the nature of his character. The game was simple and easy to win, but that wasn’t quite the goal.

“Now... for a change of pace, hm? What would you trust me with, Maurice? Your life? Less? Not even your purse mayhap? I, for one, would trust you with the care of me and mine. You would aid us should we fall ill even in spite of our nature, but I believe you would hesitate one day. Wouldn’t it be better to let those like mine pass on? One less trouble in the world. Should murder be common in my tale, what then?”

“And of course I have heard good things about you.” She laughed softly. “Are there many aiming towards salvation of this city? Not in my experience. Your zeal is as your air, refreshing amidst the fog.

“I would rather you take my business and gold than some Zaunite magnate. To be brief, I have several offices, a warehouse, and a special project that require retrofitting. I can provide the necessary paperwork, materials, and labour if you require but simply need your expertise. You may soon discover my own reputation is not so... pleasant for lack of better words, yet know that I share your goals.

“If you accept my requests, I will discuss the planning for my pet project--of which you will play an integral part. I can say unequivocally that it will benefit the present and future of Zaun.”

Four Word Prompts

The Queen gives a look that is somewhere between innocence and curiosity, her brows raised as she tilts her head and regards the masked figured before her.

“And what makes you say that, hmm?”

She rose to stand easily a respectful distance away from the smaller woman and steepled her fingers lazily before her chest. Her words were easy with honeyed tones as her golden eyes roved Valentina’s form with half-lidded eyes. 

“I am Fina Reid, founder and proprietress of the Sable Sails Trading Company. Curiosity brought me to you, greetings from a new neighbor as you will. I thought to myself that it was time I met the... ‘Whore Queen of Zaun’ herself. What an interesting individual I’d thought she’d be. If you had the time, I would invite you to a meal or refreshments. Or... say the word and I will away.”

So much honey. Vayne didn’t even know what to do with all that honey of ‘’compliments’’ and ‘’kind words’’. Vayne was getting quite entertained and amused yet she couldn’t help but take a liking to the Seraph. Then again she always seems to ‘’like’’ masked personalities. Aren’t they fascinating?

The aristocrat tilted her head as she was taking another small bite of her lamb, steeping the fork behind her velvet cherry-colored lips. She would then ask in amusement after swallowing. ‘’Fallen Angel? Isn’t that the title a peculiar woman from Noxus has? And I do believe she is an actual Angel.’’ the Hunter would chuckle.

‘’So a Bounty Hunter of sorts, no? Well, I do believe I can tell you a few things, then you can say a few about yourself in return. Sounds about the correct way of exchange.’’ the crossbow-wielder would say. ‘’I come here only if necessary. Monsters like that creature could be quite pests for cities like Zaun and Piltover.’’ she lied of course, she knew the Seraph didn’t really deserve the whole truth. She had to learn her first, she had to see what she wants from Vayne. 

‘’There is nothing interesting about Shauna. Just business and Demacian politics – unless those are topics that interest you, though I doubt it.’’ 

Fina hummed as she tasted her meal and considered the woman’s statements. She was fond of the game of exchange, but it was one that depended on reliability and honest. The Seraph considered Vayne’s words. Necessity was at the heart of the hunter’s presence here? The monsters were troublesome, yes, but not for fortified cities such as Zaun and Piltover. It was for publicity and a quick profit that Fina herself was trudging through these parts.

“I do have an interest in the political affairs of Demacian nobility but more as business matters than of personal interest. You say that necessity brings you out here? Then this beast was quite the danger then. If this is danger, perhaps I should arm myself and a number of mine with fine silver and join the hunt, hm? Safety in numbers...

“If you must think something of me, consider me like yourself. I was not born into this trade but made for it. Aristocracy is unbecoming, like children with pointless regulations, but they fund my endeavors and shape my behavior. More wine?”

Roman chuckles, following Fina inside.  Closing the door, he strides over to the kitchenette of the former Doktor’s laboratory.   The inside of the building, it’s like a complete change.  Gone are the various machines, bubbling liquids, the various drapes that close off sections of the room.  Instead a large crystal screen dominates the space, displaying the time, the weather, a scroll of news stories, and the trading information between the various city states, with all on screen aside from Demacia.  The addition of Shurima stands out from the rest, with only three question marks where the numbers indicating monetary exchange would be.   Brian enters through a side door, the one that used to state “Caution: Restricted Area”, but it now says “Garage” above the door.  His clothing is as plain as his appearance, a white shirt and black pants, accentuating his musculature.  His gaze moves from Reid to Reigns before he gives a one-armed shrug, going to the kitchenette was well, and starting to brew coffee on a different, simple looking machine.  While that begins to filter, he heads to the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of cream.   Reigns gets a mug, placing a tea bag into it, and pours the boiling water into it, turning his head to Fina, saying, “Sorry, we only have green tea.  Johann’s on a bit of a health kick.”  He saunters over to the small table in the middle of the dining area close to the kitchenette, pulling a seat out for her, and placing the cup down.  He glances to the crystal screen, before nodding.  “Our illustrious leader should be arriving at any moment.” “He doesn’t like being called a leader,” Brian interjects.  “He considers himself just a partner in our arrangement,” he says, adding cream and sugar to his coffee.  Joining Fina at the table, he takes a sip of his coffee, while Roman arrives with two cups of tea.  He places one in front of their guest, smiling that bright smile of his, before he glances at the clock on the screen again.  He gives a soft chuckle, then nods to Brian.  The dark-skinned young man merely smirks, before turning to the Seraph, saying, “What you’re about to witness is somewhat cringe-y, and completely hilarious.  He doesn’t know you’re here, so you’re about to witness…Johann at his most relaxed.” Just then, the door opens once more, as a young man in a well maintained suit saunters in.  His feet seem to move to a beat, as do his lips as he appears to be quietly singing along to a song.  Two small cords come from his ears, trailing down to his pocket.  He bobs his head as the song appears to pick up, his whole body getting into the song.  He quickly pours himself a cup of coffee. And he promptly freezes when he sees the three people sitting at the coffee table.  He reaches a hand into the pocket, and then takes the cord ends from his ears, taking a small breath, before finally speaking. “Uhm…I’m going to ask you to forget you saw that.”

“Unlikely.” She chuckled as she loosened her mask in preparation for her drink once it had a chance to steep and cool.

Already, she found herself taking more to Roman than either Brian or Johann. Scarcely had she met a collection of individuals with such proclivities towards the dark, with light dispositions, yet who were undoubtedly genuine and good-natured. Natalie Millsey immediately came to mind.

If she had learned anything from naming herself, glad her young self had not come up with anything worse, it was that such outrageous names showed signs of mentally defective parents or a sense of ego. Maybe it was both with Johann. 

Before his momentous entrance and complete lack of awareness, perhaps a deceptive ploy, Fina had taken a quick gander at the goings on within the former doktor’s former home. Gone were the ineffable devices, replaced with mundane designs and a central monitor that screamed ‘I’m an important front! Look at me! Someone feels powerful enough to let me be!’ She took a glance at the information approvingly. It would hep her with her own side enterprise. 

Now that Johann had arrived, he contextualized the comments of the other two. Once more, she found herself favoring Romans brevity. She guessed his unique trait was as contrast to the inanities of the other two. At least, her act was only for public eyes. If she fell for her own illusions, Maker help her.

“I assume that you are the host of this manor, my... limber friend?” Fina chuckled again as she eyed his kept suit and strange, music funneling device. His appearance was deceptive in the context of his actions. What made him special and deserving of the teasing moniker, ‘leader,’ from Brian? Brian was magic of some sort, that much Fina could tell. Roman was the ‘hired muscle’ if not more from conventional understanding. What made Johann, Johann she wondered?

Fingers absently traced imaginings against the table, eyes focused on those golden hues behind that mask. A mask meant a lot of things, hiding–be it from identification, everyone else, or disfigurement, it meant something and he couldn’t help but to be caught on the fact she insisted on covering her face. Of course, he could theoretically find a way to ask her without being inherently direct, but then the question would leave infinite space for maneuvering around.

He smiled, this time with less caution. The veteran had always had the softness in him that allowed for chances with even the most unsavory seeming types unless his gut instinct and empathic ability told him otherwise. He seemed rather interested as she explained her first venture into work and curiosity prickled in his gut. There was so much more than he knew then, but he did not want to appear to thirst for information.

“How intriguing. I’m afraid my youth was not so eventful.” he chuckled and the force of his personality made him seem so lively and relaxed even with all that caution lying just beneath the surface. Only a keen eye could tell there was so much more than an ordinary man sitting there.

“Ah…” he hummed, considering her question. What a question it was. And it was relatively easy to answer. “I’m…no. I’m not. I’m a man who has lived such a life that he cannot fathom the idea of domesticity, which is how I now live. To live an ordinary life is not something I can comprehend. I feel restless in my bones and have forgotten the sense of normality and comfort that most live their daily lives in; working, marrying, bearing children and growing old. I don’t fit the mold I used to idolize any more. How sad it is when you finally grasp your childhood dream only to find it is no longer the dream you want.”

He gave a soft laugh and a shake of his head that was just enough to toss some of his dark tresses around. Then he thought over what to ask Fina.

“Well…hm. I suppose bouncing off of your question…if you are unsatisfied with what you have, then what is your ideal life? I used to think my ideal was marriage and children, but I believe now that I wish to do something that is more impactful to the world and the way of things as a whole. In a positive way, of course.”

The rigidity of her composure belied the ease she felt before him. She enjoyed their bout of wit like a rousing match of chess, letting her see beyond appearance and into cognition. The fire that lit his eyes was the subject of her interests and the reason for her sudden introduction. Naturally, he kept his calm as any soldier should she supposed.

Fina wondered if his expressions were honest or whether they were completely honest more rather. He appeared to her a guardian of sorts, protective of ideals or those precious to him. She fed him the crumbs of her tale and watched the way he reacted or failed to do so. Every motion of one’s body was telling, so she always kept hers guarded. It was better to appear constrained than let one’s heart lie open for all to see. If they wished her heart, one sat embroidered on her sleeve.

His smile was bright, genuine. It was not an expression she often saw directed at her these days. What did he find so intriguing as to do so when he had such notes of reticence beforehand? Perhaps he held pity for her, or was the preferred word sympathy? Tragedy itself may yet be uncommon in these parts or times. Maybe, he simply held an unyielding compassion as she expected.

Her lids fell further still as he recounted his response, half meditating on his life and partly on her own. The sense of belonging, she suspected, was what he had lost. Normalcy, a word that meant something similar to many and yet differed for her and him. After what their lives brought, what was their sense of the everyday, their milieu? Death lingered as a shadow to every living thing. The commonplace became transient and infinitely more valuable, more distant. Yet, here Maurice was, with what he dreamed only to find that he was what had changed. She’d liked to say she knew the same, but she did not of course. Domesticity waited for her beyond the grave or might as well have.

“The colors of fantasy and night terrors differ vastly from that which we see. When one has been more alive than another man who has never known death, what is that man’s normal life to him? I believe you at once closer yet farther from life than the common citizen of this city; and for that, you have my condolences. Still, is it not better than the alternative? More frightening still are the moments the idea comes to question.” Fina pauses to yet again drink from her cup. The soft sound of ceramic ended her drought, and the woman hummed in consideration of his next inquiry.

“My ideal life? I find myself asking that question time and again. With the wealth I’ve accrued, what can I do? To every hammer, a nail. To every rogue, a lock. To me? Enterprise. I can see no ideal life, only the shadow within my grave. Like you, I can’t entertain ideas of domesticity. I am far too acquainted with the dangers others ignore. I know the sounds of the night, and would I not be guilty to feign innocence? No... not sleep but death. Some long peace after my work is done, that is what I seek. Simple silence.”

Fina chuckled softly. “Forgive my words... more honest than perhaps I should admit. From the past, present, to the hypothetical now. If you were to choose your death, what would it be like? I find such somber questions quite telling. It shows how one views life. If you imagine yourself loved and surrounded by those precious to you, whose name comes to mind first? The next few? Don’t tell me you’ve never had such thoughts in your work.

“As for myself? With a quiet suddenness. When no goings on or other matters bother me, when my work is complete, I wish to leave without a sound or struggle. Clean and quiet without knowing. But I don’t deserve such kindness now do I? You must ask, why else do I wear a mask if there is not something to hide?”

Listen on Spotify or Spotify Web Player

     Music to write, roleplay, or study to! These playlists are works in progress and are continuously growing and improving. Titled after like-themed action movie and game music, the playlists each have their own personality, and encourage different moods or activity levels. Most music is from soundtracks. The calmest playlists, Temple Ruins and Party Camp, are useful for getting into the mood. This music is less distracting. Once your pace is set, or if you want to get in the mood for an action scene, Underworld or Boss Fight are the playlists for you. Tavern Nights is what it sounds like, full of highs and lows but can be distracting. Field Music is right in the middle, with lots of color.

     All playlists are available to follow on Spotify, and can also be accessed via the web player with a free Spotify account. Just click on the [listen] for the link. Please do not hesitate to suggest music/changes to me, either here or on Spotify.

Update - 28 July 2016

Thank you to those who have liked, reblogged and shared this post, as well as those who follow me and the playlists on Spotify. I figured someone would find these useful, but I never thought the post would reach 23k+ notes and the playlists about 1,000 followers each (aside from the newer Underworld playlist). I’m thrilled so many of you are finding the playlists useful for roleplaying, writing, etc.

Title: Temple Ruins Mood: tense, eerie, dark and scary Volume: quiet, few musical swells Action: creeping through a dark ruin and avoiding spiders Instruments: minimal orchestral Lyrics: few (non-English)

[listen]

Title: Party Camp Mood: calm, mysterious, romantic Volume: soft, somewhat dynamic Action: resting after a long day of travel Instruments: minimal orchestral Lyrics: few (mostly non-English)

[listen]

Title: Field Music Mood: cheerful, adventurous, vigilant Volume: low to medium, dynamic Action: adventuring with your companions Instruments: orchestral Lyrics: few (non-English)

[listen]

Title: Tavern Nights Mood: cheerful as well as sombre Volume: medium to high, dynamic Action: eating and drinking with the locals Instruments: mainly guitar and fiddle, some harp Lyrics: yes (including English)

[listen]

Title: Underworld Mood: terra incognita, on the hunt, betrayal Volume: mid-low with many dynamic moments Action: venturing into the land of demons and the undead Instruments: orchestral Lyrics: yes (non-English)

[listen]

Title: Boss Fight Mood: angry, dangerous, violent Volume: mainly loud, dynamic Action: slaying armies and dragons Instruments: full orchestral Lyrics: few (non-English)

Again with the compliments. She really likes the Night Hunter, doesn’t she? Maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t, Vayne knows how cloaked figures like the Seraph think and she would be as far as assuming that her intention still remained the same; to beat an alliance around the bush. It could be a trap - How exciting!

‘’Oh, there’s no need for that, though it’s most likely you will find me in Piltover and Bilgewater more often I suppose. Then I guess I could give you a chance to redeem yourself.’’ pointed out the purger with one last smirk, as she delicately took fork and knife in hands and started cutting the lamb in many little pieces, fitting to her personal liking of doing so with meat. ‘’So, tell me a few things about yourself Seraph.’’

“I must insist on being a hospitable host.” She continued without dropping a beat. “For your services during the Harrowing and throughout these years? Though not a direct service to me and mine, many of those that I call partners and associates owe their safe livelihoods to those like yourself. Call it dues for a heroine if you are bold enough to accept the title. “Yet, honey words aside. I am more curious about what beast or another brings you through my territories. Knowing one’s enemy is a necessary precaution.” The Seraph paused to take small cuts of her dinner, fork vanishing intermittently behind the coy, porcelain smile. Despite obstructions, the woman maintained an elegance and quiet efficiency throughout her meal that was only won through years practice, a lifetime in Fina’s mind.  “As to details about myself? My, my, Shauna, so forward. Information is worth more than gold, about oneself? Quite a numbers more. “What I am is as I say. I am a businesswoman and generalist extraordinaire. My motto is ‘never no.’ I offer the services of my company and person for any task at a given price, and I need no redeeming.” Fina chuckled softly. “I have been called a... ‘Fallen Angel’ and the... ‘Black Angel’ for most of my winters. I am adept at taking life, but I prefer civility and proper procedure. Thought and culture is all that separates us from beasts. “Now... would you care to share something about Shauna the human being rather than the night stalker I’ve heard so much about, or am I to wait with bated breath until another time?”