Closed And a Stare or two beside (Quiarinox)

[Dariel]

The Basilika 11th Day of Winter, 512 AV Originally, it had been day. Dariel had come to the Tenten to take a closer look at Bharani Library, but the raised voices his ear had caught as he walked had waylayed him. Pushing through milling crowds in his blue silk and black that would mark him as not belonging with the local white and yellows, he homed in on the word fragments on the wind. Finding the Basilika, he had been taken aback and delighted at the same time. He'd spent what he thought were a few chimes walking around the place, soaking in the varied discussions happening everywhere and entertained participation. But for today, for a first visit, there had been too much to sample of this rich, vibrant idea exchange. There were scholars and students, matrons and maidens, debating the nature of the Gods and taking a fine comb to the differences between fate and destiny and trying to delineate morality as a divine imperative. There was a grizzled man with a chalkboard outlining his design for a means of transport between the peaks that amounted to a large kite and a group of adolescents deriding him. Two stout, bearded fellows, brothers by the look of them, about to come to blows over the exact lay of a particular island in the Suvan Sea. It was all glorious to Dariel, and he took it all in. Much to his surprise, Syna bedded herself down to rest after what seemed only short moments in this wondrous place. In truth he'd been there for bells. His curiosity not sated, he stayed on to observe the change in the scenery. The debaters filed out or lingered while the artists poured in. They brought easels and canvases and paints, sheets of copper and slender hammers, tiles of slate and blocks of wood or clay. Art was not Dariel's strength due to both a lack of exposure and a lack of access. To him, things, creations were to serve a purpose. Whittling the likeness of a small bird from a block of wood seemed to serve no purpose at all. Staining a sheet of perfectly good canvas with splotches of color at least gave the tailors an excuse to raise their prices. But he held out. Maybe he would yet understand why a man would spend bells crafting crude,naive pottery when he could buy a more appealing piece on any market for a handful of Topaz Kina. When insight failed to materialize, Dariel's mind produced an alternate instrument of observation. Stirring his Djed from his center, visualizing the rising torrent of power and channelling it towards his eyes had become easier and easier the more he had practiced. Even so, perceiving someone's aura in such a superficial manner as he did now was a very basic trick. He presumed or even knew that the true strength of his Auristics lay much deeper. Some day it would provide an even finer tool. For now, it simply lent him another layer of perception to add to his impressions. Unfortunately, it did nothing for him. Most artists were elated, even if all they produced were streaks of random paints that looked like they had been sneezed onto the canvas, another class of artist he could identify as northing short of serene. Dariel supposed they were simply so absorbed in their work that everything else fell by the wayside. They tended to be the ones whose work he could actually see liking, even if its purpose still escaped him. The last major group was some description of sad and made the least sense to the young mage. Dariel's entire train of thought fell by the wayside when the Ethaefal glid into his field of vision however. Even amongst her impressive kin, this child of Leth stood out, or so he thought. She was the tallest creature Dariel had ever beheld, a good head taller than him and towering over people of regular height, with hair even lighter than his, as white as the snow that danced through the streets. Her horns and eyes however were of the richest glossiest black, as if lacquered. In a moment of weakness, Dariel found himself staring at the divine creature as she moved about, the crowd parting for her, people stopping to bow or otherwise expressing their deference. She was radiant, he thought. Her aura was as her appearance, brilliant white like Leth shining on snow, marbled and veined with strands of black that coalesced and coagulated to a fine second skin of lacquer near her body. He had never seen anything like it. It took all the good sense Dariel had to keep his jaw from dropping. It left no means to stop him from staring however.

[Quiarinox]

When Quiarinox first entered the Basilika and beheld the domed courtyard, illuminated by star and moon in an inky sky, she loved it. There was nothing truly like the building and she could see why so many fellow artists were inspired by the sight of it under the moon. Even as Quiarinox weaved her way through the people towards her easel and canvas, having stepped out to retrieve her kit, she found herself having to return social niceties to avoid offence. Bows were given, words exchanged, and she wore a smile of gracious hospitality that only the trained could fake so well. She was certain she was doing well with it and in return for the attention given, she brushed a finger over these people when she could or shared a word or two ambiguously phrased. Seeds of corruption she cast about her, one at a time to carefully fester as the days passed. She would like to hear about what her gifts had done to these people that she would normally never touch on her own for they were unattractive to her. The curses were simple physical things that would open eyes to the grotesque honesty of humans and their faces. Once she was certain she had made it through the brunt of the crowd and could now afford to ignore the rest, her eyes settled upon another person who was watching her. Where she would have dismissed him for being a normal human, she couldn't do so for he looked like no other human she had seen yet. Like her, he was pale and wore white hair, but unlike her he was not immaculate and perfect. He was shorter and by all means nearly average if not for his lack of pigment. She made a line for him, intrigued by his appearance. "It is impolite to stare," she said, bowing in the customary Lhavitian style. She offered him a lower bow than what she was likely to give others, hoping that the implication of greater respect would provide a more receptive attitude to her attention. "Where I come from, it is proper to introduce yourself to a lady before she catches you staring at her. The women I know would likely take advantage of a poor man's rapture. You'd be so overwhelmed." She had a taunting lilt to the honey of her voice. Never one to miss an opportunity to condescend. "I'll start introductions, shall I? I am Quiarinox, daughter of Leth as you can see. And you are..?" She tapped a curved horn delicately with her nail and it clicked like glass.

[Dariel]

So that was how that felt. Caught red-handed while staring at a messenger of the divine as blatantly as possible. Of course Dariel was none too thrilled with himself. At least the shock shook the stare from his face, allowed him to regain a modicum of composure and what dignity he had not already bled into the gutter moments ago. So caught off guard was Dariel that he forgot to pull up the walls he'd neglected in a moment of rapture. There was no way he could manage cool and detached, never mind that detachment in itself would be completely at odds with the interest he had displayed before now. While his mind still raced at a speed only thoughts could achieve and which put the fastest of horses to shame, his face assumed the well-practiced mask of pleasantry. His smile was bereft of sincerity but at least subtle enough to not seem grotesque. Matching the Ethaefal's bow, even trying to bow just a smidgen lower bought him another two heartbeats. It was a finely measured bow, in as far as such motions could be measured. Whether the child of Leth noticed that he took great pains to respond to her courtesy without wanting to be seen as prostrating himself before or not was another matter entirely. It was when he straightened again that he had to speak, before he had had time to formulate a proper strategy. Before he had had time to fully regain his composure. All he had to rely on was his cockiness and what he hoped would pass for wit. "Ah, but dear lady. If one does not stare first, how is one to know whether there is a point to introducing oneself to said lady? And come to think of it, staring seems a highly efficient way to attract such ladies, if the current example counts for anything." It was far from the smoothest thing he had ever said, mediocre perhaps, but it was the best thing he could do given the circumstances. His course thus set, he decided to run with it. Maybe his quips would improve. Or maybe he'd end up with an Ethaefal's handprint on his cheek. Would that count as a blessing? "I am named Dariel. It goes without saying that it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Now that that is out of the way, please indulge my curiosity. Somehow, a woman taking advantage of a man does not sound as terrible as you seemed to make it out. Am I missing something?" Dariel did not exactly relish playing the fool. But he did relish a challenge. He would see if that was enough.

[Quiarinox]

There was formality here in their words to eachother. Carefully they skirted the edge between courtesy and the apparent ignorance of words between others. It was pleasant. "Nothing may be as simple as it seems when it comes to women and seduction. Surely you've heard this. It seems all the rage for men to discuss whether women want their bodies or their money," she took a breath. "I suppose it all depends if you'd like to be a woman's tool or her bank." A sweet smile followed the words, but the smile was anything but truly warm, even though there was a promise of charm beneath. This was another step in the dance of pleasantries. This was how people were seduced into the unknown. This was fun. She didn't wish the moment to whither and in the silence, cast about for a topic that would give her more of him. Where did he live? Why did he look the way he did? Did he have family? Friends? She wanted answers to it all. One could curse and curse and curse strangers, but the opportunity to break apart the life of someone you knew was too much to miss and too rare to come. 'Friendship' was an overrated price to pay for warming oneself into the cockles of another's heart. "I've not seen you before, of that I am sure. Is this where you are from and I've just not noticed you before now? Of course, that's not saying much. I have not been in the city for long and its fair to assume I haven't met everybody yet." She tried to keep her words paced evenly so they wouldn't sound hurried or plaintive for more of his attention. She didn't want to seem needy. However, she couldn't escape the feeling that she was being too long winded and probably was coming off as blatantly looking for firm footing and any similarity she could relate to. "Lhavit certainly is a lovely city, prettier than others I've seen, but the monochromatic flavour of it makes me homesick at times." Wistfully she spoke, turning her attention from him to look about the domed courtyard. The mix of humans and non-humans certainly did make her miss the predictable racism of Ravok. She looked back to Dariel and continued with, "I'm from Ravok, you see. Much more colourful there, both visually and mentally. Everyone here suffers some form of praised bipolarity with moods that depend on whether the sun is up or the moon is. Not at all like home. At least there you know who is happy and who is sad and nothing changes so drastically based on the sun's position in the sky." She was secretly excited to see if her words were offensive when spoken in the cool tone she had used so much so recently.

[Dariel]

A faint little chuckle rang from the confines of Dariel's throat. It had come naturally, had a sincere quality in itself but in the context might have given off an air of mockery. "That is a non-issue then. I have no money, and this body is not much to speak of. You can see why I would not be worried." And he wasn't. Of course he had some money. Of course he had a body that he wouldn't wear if he didn't approve of it. But most of all he did not worry. While smart enough to know there were smarter people than him, he was cocky enough to not actually expect to meet any. And cocky enough to assume nobody could make him do things he did not want to begin with. At least not without force of arms. Seduction of any kind seemed like a faraway thing from his concerns. So he'd been content to exchange quips with the statuesque Ethaefal before him. Not to mention that he couldn't escape feeling flattered by her attention. Not to mention that even if he had to look up at her, Dariel was quite enjoying the view. For many reasons. "In fact, it could be argued that because of this I would only stand to gain if some predator singled me out to hunt. They do say that it is better than the eventual kill, no?" He implied a lot and nothing in those words. It was hard to tell, the delivery was as laconic as he could muster, but the words themselves mostly born of his unwillingness to fall on the defensive. Quiarinox had already moved on to more civil things however. Curious. The banter, for all its lack of familiarity, had been a fun little game that developed according to a vague idea of rules and structure. Now she'd moved on to establishing an exchange of superficial information. In itself it was infinitely more boring to the young man but at least he did not have to think about answers. "I am recently returned. My... apprenticeship took me overseas, my journeyman time lead me back home. That said, Lhavit is not a small city. But I would remember seeing you." Other than the purposeful vagueness there was little in the way it was delivered. Superficial politeness, no more, no less. That changed when she mentioned Ravok. Dariel had seen little of it, but someone else had. It was a beautiful city, yes. But also a wretched one. "I have been to Ravok." he allowed, and more. "It is indeed infinitely more colorful, after a fashion. Also infinitely less safe and in its own way infinitely more conservative in as far as I have observed" They were back in a game as far as he could tell. Dariel didn't really care about Lhavit other than the freedom it allowed him. But the tall beauty seemed to care about Ravok.

[Quiarinox]

"To me, all humans have started to look alike, even one as unique in appearance as you." The words were delivered with flat tone as she refocused in on him. Looking down, always down, she found vindictive pleasure in being taller than others. There was a time when she wasn't so conceited and vain as to lavish in the attention others were forced to bestow upon someone so tall, but she had long since grown out of courtesy and thoughts of egalitarianism. "She is a dark mistress, Ravok, but beautiful for it." The Ethaefal eventually agreed in response to the man's words. Carefully chosen and placed. She loved Ravok for all its terrible glamour but that wasn't always a good thing. She paused in their conversation to consider the topic seriously. She had gathered nothing really remarkable of him other than that he was an apprentice once and a native to the city. There were only a handful of cities that touched with the Suvan and having to cross narrowed the options down. Syliras, she could only assume. The boy lived in Syliras. "Perhaps we should take a seat somewhere, become better acquainted. People are beginning to stare at us and privacy, as well as an equal height, might make things a bit more easier for us. I have my own stool and easel set up, not far into the courtyard here, and I'm sure you can talk a young man off a chair if you put yourself up to it." A careless wave of her hand directed him to where her seat was. She was changing tactics quickly, too quickly, in the hopes he would latch onto one and use it. She wasn't adept at the finer arts others employed to get information and trust from their marks. She was an Ethaefal, not some miserable human that had to wear disguises to find attention. She could just reach out and touch him right now. Just a carress, a stroke, a light prod, and he would be cursed. She had one in mind for him already, prepared to be delivered wordlessly once she had the chance. However, she couldn't resist the desire to betray him personally. If only he had looked more normal, then she might have only cursed him. Full betrayal cost a lot more of her time and patience than a basic one did. She hesitated again as something occurred to her. "I don't often pay attention once Syna is gone, but is there a break coming up or not? It may seem strange to bring up out of nowhere, but discussion with interesting people is much better done in the luxury of a few moments reprieve from work. I'm sure you can understand that." Maybe they could find something fresh and exciting to do for two bells.

[Dariel]

He looked upon this creature of black and white with a mix of curiosity and confusion. Was she merely whimsical? Bored far too quickly? Mad? Madness would be interesting. The manic often were some of the brightest minds one might find, albeit chaotic and, well, unsteady. As unsteady as the moods Leth's daughter exhibited. Dariel's head tilted to the side as he kept staring up at her. "I am certain many of them look similar. In as far as they are natives at any rate. The uniform clothing certainly helps. What I find worse is that most of them think similar. Not so much here, in as far as I can tell. Eyris be thanked for that." Head still held askew, he crooked a grin. "Artists and their ilk I mean. But even they have their castes and religions." Looking over his shoulder, he took a careful step back, flattening out the angle at which he viewed her. It didn't make her shorter but was easier on his neck. Ravok would have to wait until later, it made for a chapter all her own. "Like you." he simply commented on her view of the city and snuck in a bit of pointless flattery. The Ethaefal was likely used to it, and aware of it to begin with. Beauty was part of her condition. But it never hurt to court the mad. Once again in a score of days the meaning behind the word lunacy danced across the outskirts of Dariel's consciousness. He claimed Leth as his God, too. Again, his thoughts brought him nowhere fast. An easel, a stool, a chair. "You paint? How curious." How fitting. How well it fit into the picture that formed in his head. Watching a mad servant of the Gods paint would certainly be the high point of an otherwise already fine day. But the tall graceful creature of white and black seemed to already hatch another plan. "The Midnight Rest is not far now, no." His head rose up, then tilted to the other side. His gate remained lopsided, skipping across passers-by here and there but always returning to Quiarinox' features. From her eyes up to her forehead as if he could see her thoughts if he looked hard enough. As so often, the Djed welled up unbidden, like water in a trough fed by a steady stream of curiosity. Dariel let it while he gave his curiosity words. "What are you thinking... mistress?" The question itself was matter of fact. In the context it might even sound naive, if it weren't for that pause. Another man would have spent the next moments of waiting for an answer hoping that Leth's daughter was indulgent of her lord's wild passions. But the boy's veins ran ripe with distrust. The only thing that was bound to be petched was his head. Or hers. But to have that latter option he'd first have to know what her game was. Though he might laugh if the question lead up to a third and far more harmless option.

[Quiarinox]

There was a sinuous shrug given as reply to his words. The compliment was taken with secret pleasure, for she so did love Ravok, but the musing to her profession did little to stir her. "I paint what I can. I'm not very well, sadly, but at least I know which end of the brush touches the paper. What's amusing is that I like to paint the moon, and night scenes. I don't know why, yet." A bit of humour was offered to the conversation, followed by a twist of her lips that would have had her former husband proud. A change in her expression overtook her, the glossy black of her eyes darkening to something midnight and crystal. Her mind hadn't wandered down paths that took men to her room in many seasons, and so her reaction to his question was to immediately assume he was hinting at that. But no. He didn't seem the type of man to take a bed offer up with a strange woman, and nor was she the kind to offer. Some things were sacred, others were secret, and strangers were not bound to hold either of the two dear. "It was an innocent invitation. Perhaps I might want a cup of tea, or a bite, or maybe just a few moments alone with a charming young man in a secluded area." The curve of her lips raised again. This smile was more genuine than the others though and so was the laugh that followed, short as it was. "You look as though a bird eyeing something curious when you tilt your head like that. Is there something wrong?" She took the opportunity to reach out one spidery hand. Long, white fingers tilted his face straight insistently, but did not persist longer than a handful of ticks. The hand was cold, but soft, like polished marble but with the malleable texture of warmed clay. "You need not worry about my intentions, Dariel. It's other people that you should fear." She willed the curse into her voice as her hand was withdrawn in a caress that went against everything she had just said. For her, the touch was impersonal. He was an object to be used to further her goals and at this point, she wouldn't care whether he had the mind to translate her words and actions as conflicting or not. The smile across her face dimmed and she glanced from him to the flurry of artists and observers. Yes, the rest approached. Looking back, she tilted her own head at him. "I'm fairly certain all I want is more of your interesting company. If I want something more, I might just say it." She was easier now. When the seeds were planted to fester and grow another day, she found herself more at ease with the victims. Maybe she wanted to be there friend when life became hard for them. Maybe she wanted to be that one bright light in the cold, dark world. A curse made her feel better about spending time with lesser beings. It made her job easier. The rest was wirelessly announced with a nearly unanimous flurry of movement from all corners. The natives had learned to time their breaks well. Not everybody seemed intent on pursuing leisure, for a few did linger in their spot. There was a rise of voices as people chittered at one another. Not one to be left alone while everybody else went and had fun, Quiarinox shrugged, gestured for Dariel to join her, and followed. It didn't bother her, the idea that he might not wish to follow after all. She could find something else if the need pressed upon her. When she looked, though, she knew it would please her further if he were there.

[Quiarinox]

Quiarinox narrowed her black eyes in dislike when her questions, and responses, failed to entice the human to continue their little conversation. She tutted and gestured at him, making sure he was fully aware of her displeasure, before Sha strode away into the crowding area, cutting a line through them with the grace she was created to walk with. She was late for work and would likely be scolded for it, so when she made it to her easel she sat before it quickly, smiling at her employer, and began to paint as was her wont. She tried to not let her encounter with Dariel influence her work overmuch, but the swish of her brush and the hard, stony look of her eyes betrayed her. The stroke of her hand betrayed her. She went undisturbed as she worked, earning furtive looks every so often. She was glad Dariel seemed to disappear, so great was her ire. She would have to be glad she at least got a curse on him before she no longer wanted to wait around for him. There was work to do, and by the name of all the gods she would rather do her work than stand idle while a man ignored her. She was Ethaefal, an Agent, she deserved more than what she got. Her expression was glaringly disatisfied and it cast a pallor of something dark over her marblesque features. Nat kept glancing at her as she worked, concern in her eyes. Quiarinox noticed even though she would rather have not. The human wasn't even an acquaintance of hers. While Quiarinox didn't claim friendship with anybody, the people she interacted with daily were little more than tools. They could only be tools. She couldn't trust a tool. She managed to forget her anger gradually as she painted, but it lingered at the fringe of her thoughts and influenced her painting. Dariel was her model, this time, and she depicted him with colours to flatter him and accentuate his natural colour. His pallid appearance was a problem but was circumvented with light tones of blue, black, and grey, but when it came to his clothes and skin other than his face she tried making him out to be ugly, like she was trying to depict the way his soul looked to her. A woman scorned was not one to be kind and that was what she was. She painted without thought, almost layering on the colour until it looked like vomit: unattractive and spoiled, but it comforted her in a way she hadn't been comforted before. Painting was an outlet she could use to vent. Before long, time was up. The sun tinged the extreme eastern horizon outside of the Basilica and it was time to relocate back to Tain's Studio. She finally looked at her painting, considering it, and sighed. "So, it's not the prettiest," Nat's voice was sudden and startling. Quiarinox stiffened. "However, it speaks volumes about how you express yourself. Pack up and bring your things back to the Studio before the break." Quiarinox nodded mutely. She was glad to be done.

[Elysium]

Dariel

XP:
Observation +4
Auristics +2
Rhetoric +3
Philosophy +1

Lore:
Lhavit: The Basilika
Auristics: Reading a Room
Quiarinox, the Lethaefal

★

Quiarinox

XP:
Rhetoric +3
Observation +1
Painting +3
Seduction +1

Lore:
Dariel the Apprentice
Lhavit: The Basilika
Sewing the Seeds of Discord
Therapuetic Painting

Notes: Again, I'm sad to see a good thread cut short! If you have any questions, please PM me.

and so, the journey continues...