[The Garden of Concubines] Festival of Dira

[Hirem]

Hirem smiled at Liviya. "I'm tempted to say I came just to hear the story. It was a very good one, or at least, from what I heard. You told it masterfully. It's comforting to hear a Benshiran story here." He chuckled, unfolding his arms. He wasn't lying; he really did enjoy the tale. Stories of love and faith spoke to him on a very spiritual level. However, he was also suger-coating his words.

Hirem sighed, and nodded slowly. "But you're right, I'm not here to listen to tales. I..." He chuckled uncomfortably, looking around. Let's hope this works. "I have a favour to ask of you... it's harmless, really. It's just..." He rubbed his arms carefully, laying on the impression of a pathetic man heavy.

"It's just that so much rests on how well I do my job here to become a Gardener... it really means a lot to me..." He sighed again, letting his head hang. "Someone asked me to get a message to a man named Osahar, and told me that this Osahar had a butterfly mask. Trouble is..." He nervously laughed. "There's two men standing together with the masks I was told to look for. I know it seems trivial... but I can't bring myself to ask them." He tapped his forehead. "Bad nerves, I guess. I want to be as efficent as I can today, and I can't make myself ask them like a fool." It didn't matter if any of the concubines or Zulo think he was unfit for the job, he just needed them for tonight.

"Could you ask for Osahar and give him the message?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he immediately cursed himself for saying them. This was probably the stupidest lie he could have come up with. However, he at least had leverage. "If you do this and keep this our little secret, I'll... I'll try to talk to you more. Let you hear Shiber more, like you wanted." He flashed a grin. "See? I remembered that. What do you say Liviya?"

[Akuaysun]

Aku watched stoically, his cobalt eyes curious to the events but not anxious to intervene. It seemed that his dancing partner could have been the cause of death after all or at least saw such things as trifling. Whatever the case she intended to have very little to do with the situation at this point, first stepping back, and then at the most convenient of times disappearing all together. The entire matter was quite a display and whoever Odessa was, she most definitely had talents beyond himself. As the girl flopped and blued the Ethaefal again stepped back, distancing himself from the commotion that was at last garnering attention.

Slowly he moved through the crowd, gently slipping between the occupants attempting not to disturb any in attendance. His hands softly guided those blocking his path aside, all the while keeping the girl, the woman, and their attendant in his peripheral vision. Aku was curious, overly so, but nothing would come from him joining them, he knew nothing of medicine, or these people that had such a supreme attitude held over others. In a way Aku thought it almost deserving, for how often the child had to pay for the sins of their blood. This time however, it would be the elders that suffered all the more.

As he passed by his attention turned however. Now his eyes scanned those that danced and rejoiced in the celebration. He looked for Odessa and her distinguished form; if she were in fact a mortal she couldn’t have wandered far and perhaps would still be visible. He had no love for these people and simply did not plan to intervene but he was curious as to what had happened, the only people that could tell him was his former dance partner and the girl that was now on her way to Dira less the man pulled her back from its grasp.

[Chaelnomyl]

Chaelnomyl was not the type to be able to read body language very well. After all, the Akvatari were notably stoic and inexpressive, and she was no exception to that rule. She had, however, been out of Akvatar for awhile and so she picked up a little on the fact that he was receptive of their handshake.

Making a mental note about Eypharians, Chaelnomyl cursed the fact that she had not manipulated herself to look like one of them as of yet. Perhaps they could find something in that room to use then.

”It is good to know that some beauty can still come from what I hear was the worst tragedy this world has seen.” In truth the Akvatari had not lived through the Valterrian and thus had very little knowledge of what actually happened, unlike some of the surviving races.

Again the opportunity for someone who was more experienced with the inflection of language and the body to pick up on Sel’s uncomfortableness with the situation slipped past the Akvatari. She took very little notice that he was a little flustered by her question and gave a nod in response.

”That would be most lovely, Sel. Although if we could find anything in here to cover me up appropriately like any other lady of your race, I could probably get away with mimicking them fairly well.” The Akvatari offered, but wasn’t about to walk around stark naked. Especially since her understanding of the actual hip joints was a little… sketch at best.

”No matter. If you’d like to join me, I’d appreciate the company.” She asked, but took off at a leisurely pace on her own, taking in the darkened colors in the room around them. The designs seemed quite beautiful and it was something the Akvatari could admire. She lingered about the room, examining the benches a little and feeling over the head of the jackals softly with an artist’s caress before slowly making her way across the room and presumably deeper into the chamber of the concubines.

Unless of course, Sel decided to take off back out into the party, in which case well. It would give her pause and more reason to look for something to cover up with before she made some attempt to pass as an Eypharian.

[Colombina]

Akuasyun

While the immediate crowd began to constrict and still, there was enough movement in the rest of the feast to cover a departing figure. After Akuasyun stepped past the panicked mother and curious people, the room seemed as if nothing had transpired.

Across the courtyard, a dash of familiar claret fabric swung between bodies before slipping into the shadows of the hypostyles. Moving through the crowd to where the shape dissipated required a certain agility.

The path she had taken led to the eastern stairs that cascaded down the side of the structure. Like the main western entrance, the stairs were the breadth of the structure's side. The stairs sloped gradually, making a ziggurat like base for the main building. A few Gardener's patrolled in-between the hypostyle's, slowly pacing the hall, their eyes towards the city.

Cast between the base of two hypostyles was a claret dress. A black mask had been dropped on top of it, broken in half by its fall. Rising from her dress was a fragrance he could recognize as her perfume. It could only be articulated in her absence: hyacinth, lily of the valley, cedar, all warmed by the heat of her body. The dress was still warm to the touch, and the scent wove down the steps before being lost in the open air.

_________
Hirem

Liviya smiled at Hirem. She was all indulgence with a touch of a tease to her voice.
"A bold Benshira intimidated?"

The concubine took his arm, leaning against him as she began to guide them out of the garden.
"Perhaps with good reason, Osahar is a Jibade. Kindred to the Pressorah. If not for the equality the masks and feast renders we would not be allowed to look him in the eye without a great deal of pomp."

Liviya straightened as she continued.
"Osahar is a hard Jibade to find. Keeps to himself. Very eligible from what I last heard, but we concubines just like to talk. We know our place. No concubine ever actually weds royalty." A quick smile, "But maybe their is hope with this Pressorah's batch of Jibade. She doesn't come from pristine stock and neither do they."

By now she had gracefully led them from the garden, walking a shortcut the concubines were privy to. Cautious of Zulo's looks, she released Hirem before stepping out.

Turning this way and that, she looked for the cluster of monarch masked guests. With Hirem's direction she discovered the group.
"Ah, which is which? If I get close, I will know. I'll touch him with my feathered fan."

She smiled at him, "I can't do everything for you if you want a future here."
Liviya rolled her shoulders back, "Ahnatep favors the bold."

The concubine approached the group, inquiring after their enjoyment of the feast. After playing hostess for a few moments she unfurled her fan and subtly brushed it against the tallest partygoer's arm. A pretty smile and she was gone, joining the crowd.

_________

Chaelnomyl

Sel wasn't expecting Chaelnomyl to head straight into forbidden territory. He was thinking maybe a tour of the outer edges or some local structures, but the Akvatari had an eye for where the real artistry would be. Trying to not appear a coward, Sel gingerly followed after Chaelnomyl deeper into the harem baths.

Her question about garments was met with surprise.
"Eypharian clothes? Can you shapeshift? I didn't know Akvatari could do that."
Sel looked around the room, "If ever there was a place to find clothes, the Garden is it. I hear the concubines change clothes five times a day."

Trying to be helpful, the urchin Eypharian began to search the room, looking in corners, piles of pillows and baskets. He found a basket of folded garnets for after the bath and was faced with the puzzling problem of picking one from many. Like most men, this wasn't his strong suit. However, he did have an idea of what was generally "pretty". The Eypharian glanced back at Chaelnomyl as she wandered the tiled chamber. After considering her he decided on an indigo colored gown of crinkled linen.

He approached with it suspended between two arms.
"This probably belongs to a Benshira one, not enough arm holes for us."
With a shrug he lifted it up, "I think it will look nice with your eyes and wings."

After hastily passing the garment to her he mumbled, "But you're fine the way you are."
While Akvatari likely didn't ponder it, they were a wonder to behold.

Sel began to grow as curious as Chaelnomyl about exploring the Garden chambers. He started to lead instead of follow, cautioning over his shoulder,
"We just have to be real careful. Getting caught here is trouble, like lose your fingers trouble."

At the back of the bathing chamber there was a line of smooth columns of Eypharian marble, a distinct purple found only in Eyktol. Behind the marble columns was solid wall. There was a mosaic on the wall, but the dim light made it hard to discern. The columns passed from the bathing chamber cutting into two different rooms. Sel chose the chamber to the left.

The following chamber was smaller than the bathing room, but more furnished. Painted screens divided the space into even smaller sections, each one hosting a musical instrument on a woven rug. Pillows and ottomans circled the instruments and there were forgotten drinking goblets and tall colored tea glasses strewn about.

On the wall opposite the columns, there was a tall arched window. It was tightly shuttered but sounds and shadows from the party still filtered through. Propped in front of the window was an easel holding a blank canvas. On a table beside it were brushes of horse hair and alabaster jars of paint.

"Oya," Sel exclaimed, "The concubines sure are talented."

[Colombina]

(OOC = Hullos? Anyone still want to go on? It won't hurt my feelings if you all got too busy. Just let me know if there are any stragglers.)

[Hirem]

Hirem couldn't help but find a smile as he watched Liviya pick out Osahar for him, then dissolve into the crowd. Ahnatep favours the bold... He chuckled, shifting his gaze to Osahar. "It'll be interesting to see how much it favours me..." He quietly whispered the words to himself, and then quickly turned his face to an impassionate, blank stone. My target is picked out... now I wait.

He found the nearest pillar, one a little ways away from Osahar, and leaned against it, keeping his gaze half focused on the Jibade and half focused on the general party. He was content to sit and wait for hours if need be. Patience helped a man to survive the desert, and patience was on Hirem's side. Still, he did like some amusement and entertainment during long periods of time.

As such, he let his thoughts wander, caught up in the extravagance of the Eypharian festival. For all he loathed about the Eypharians, they did have lavish splendour as a positive side. Sometimes, Hirem liked to simply forget all his troubles and enjoy himself, though duty, in the end, always called him to attention when it needed to.

His thoughts also reached the topic of the concubine Liviya, and Hirem frowned a bit. She had so far proven playful and warm to him, but that was a definite problem with Zulo and the other Gardeners watching him. She also seemed a little flirtatious, and, Zulo or not, he wasn't going to stand for that. As a general rule he let his sense of duty overcome any physical lusts, and Liviya, lioness she may be, would find it a tough task to whittle away at Hirem's true identity. Still, she was useful, and a comforting face in a sea of Eypharian masks.

[Colombina]

Tragedies, comedies and pleasure were blooming from all corners of the festival. Despite the courtyard's ceiling of stars, heat was beginning to build from the press of fevered bodies.

Only the Pressorah enjoyed cool elevation in her throne. She watched her subjects with a mother's pleasure and a monarch's severity. She smiled under her mask, but did not laugh.
It was all for them, her gestures seemed to say. Her family's treasures doled out and displayed for their enjoyment and to please the lady of the shadowed gates.

The cast in front of Hirem changed as the hours went on. Osahar was never alone. Women walked past him purposefully, admiring his handsome shape. In Yahebah, only harlots stared wantonly at men. A good Benshira woman was bold, yes, but virtuous, proud of her hard won purity.
Jibade Osahar, laughed at women's brazen comments, but seemed a little shy. He was polite but would smoothly excuse himself after a time.

The closes the Jibade came to being alone was during one escape that sent him to the food tables. Servers floated near the food, but there was no especial notice for Osahar.

[Hirem]

Hirem suddenly stood to attention as Osahar left the latest group of flirtatious women and scurried over to the food table, alone with the servers. Anticipation suddenly clawed over Hirem like a rabid wolf, tearing up his insides with excitement. This was it. This was the moment he was waiting for. He unconciously knotted his hands together, and then freed them again, considering his plan of attack. Truth be told, he considered it a marvel that he had gotten even close to this point, this moment of truth. Hirem took a deep breath, trying to expel all his anxious thoughts and replace them with grim duty.

Slowly, he took a step towards Osahar, and then another. The area was too open, Hirem realized. He couldn't be so hasty just yet. He stared at Osahar in a state of quick thought before Hirem smiled with the realization of a plan. He approached the drinking table, and let out a single hand. Tentatively, he lightly tapped the man's shoulder.

"Excuse me, sir. I don't mean to be a bother but somebody asked me to bring a man in a butterfly mask over to him. He looked real important like, and was keen on talking to you in private." Hirem shrugged, assuming the role of a docile servant. If this didn't work he could always just attempt to kill Osahar here, but that would surely bring peril and great risk.

[Colombina]

Osahar stepped back graciously when tapped, assuming Hirem was trying to squeeze by. When addressed, the Jibade put his cup on the table. With a quick glance he discerned Hirem's position as a Gardener for the festival.

"In private?"

That didn't bode well for the topic. If something really urgent was afoot the palace guard would be at his side and key words would be used. This description meant someone noble enough to discern him in a crowd was keen on cornering him for a special audience. He couldn't take another bout with an ambitious mother and forward daughter, or a second son intent on becoming his constant companion.

Osahar smiled politely under his mask out of habit.
"I thank you for the message. Please be so kind as to relay that such affairs can wait for another time."

The untouched cup of beer was passed to Hirem.
"Bring him this," the Jibade clapped Hirem's shoulder, "And tell him to enjoy good things while they are with us."

Osahar loathed the intrigues of court. If someone was bent on engaging him in some sort of clandestine discussion, he was going to avoid them like a leper. Chances were the petty content wouldn't matter and would only help to sour an otherwise pleasant evening.

[Hirem]

Hirem nodded, and his insides took a cold turn. Osahar wasn't going to follow him. Smarter than what Hirem was aiming for, but he was aiming for moronic. Still, he could still achieve this. Yahal believes in me... I must do this. I will kill this man. He smiled at Osahar, setting the beer down. "Thank you sir, for hearing me out.

A blow to the neck. That will do it. Hirem quickly debated the option. With enough force, he could kill Osahar with a single punch to the throat, or at the very least make him suffocate to death... but it would very obvious as to his intent. He intended to leave this place free and ready to strike again, not in shackles. I will make it look like an accident then.

His stomach curled with anticipation as he turned about, and with Osahar to his side, he pretended to notice someone on the other side of the Garden. His face lit up, and he raised his arm. Put enough force into the blow. He bent his elbow and moved his hand to the side in a waving action, and in the same motion rammed into Osahar, driving the elbow roughly into his neck. Yahal, give me strength!