Closed Who is the Real Monster? (Evarista, Elias)

[Kayak]

Read Me First Please : Timestamp: Summer 14th, 517 AV (eligible to change if needed for consistency) Starting Location: The Temple of the Black Sun Status: Closed, Elias and Evarista only Rules: Standard post order. No post time but please keep it reasonable. "The world is dying. I know it may not be terribly obvious here within our powerful empire, but our world is dying. But it was not always this way. Back before the Valterrian, the world was being crushed by those who sought to control everything. They wanted to control nature. They wanted to control every person's very thoughts. Those heathens were the height of hubris and weakness. That is why they were destroyed when Ivak began the war of wars. They were weak. Rhysol has never been weak. Even in the days of heathens, Rhysol was amassing strength through the truth. Even when the other gods, these heathen empires, said that Rhysol wasn't worth bothering, that he was cruel and evil, he grew stronger through truth and righteousness. And he proved that when he slew Sylir. And the world descended into chaos, and the weak died. But Rhysol in his followers not only survived, they thrived. Rhysol is the shepherd, and he guided our people through the dangers and chaos of a world shattered. And in a world where the weak died, the strong began to rebuild. We built our city, the pinnacle of human civilization. We didn't attempt to conquer the planet, no. We live with it. We don't destroy the chaos, we thrive within it. And for these few hundred years, the world has been at its best. But once more, that child, Ivak, throws a tantrum. And once more, the world is dying because the weak are an infection, a poison on it. They steal strength from those who have it. Foreigners, Sylirans, beasts that think they are people, are nothing more than thieves with no strength of their own. One can only find strength through Rhysol. By knowing Rhysol, by following his example, you can find unlimited strength within yourself. Give your heart to Rhysol, give your soul, give everything. Every decision you make, ask yourself, 'How will this help our lord?" If it doesn't help him, it is clearly the wrong choice. Do not be weak. Follow our Lord, follow the truth. We need him now, more than ever, as the world once more begins to crumble." The priestess stepped away from the altar, a soft glow and comfortable smile about her face. Her dark robes swayed lightly as she moved toward the closest alcove, to begin more personal teachings of the church. This was often used as a question and answer session, one that Valdinox took much pride in. It was midday, and soon she'd have to break for lunch. But she always made time to spread The Word. Meanwhile, a Paladin opened the doors from the Vitrax, escorting the young Nitrozian woman, a scowl upon his face. The research today had involved testing the woman in a combat scenario. But he'd been ordered to take it easy on her privileged head, to let her land blows that he normally wouldn't and to not hurt her much. He didn't appreciate being a punching bag. The man began looking for her chaperone, an apprentice named Elias, as the Temple was the designated meeting place. A peon like Elias wasn't worthy enough to enter the Vitrax after all. Elias had better not be late picking up this brat, the Paladin was looking for someone to take his anger out on, and no one would bat an eye at an apprentice receiving 'training'. The congregation began to disperse, many heading into the alcoves for lessons or private reflection, others returning back to their normal day. Many had businesses to return to, or midday meals to prepare. A nice, sunny summer day meant people preferred to spend their time outdoors, in the perfect wind and sun that Lord Rhysol provided them. A small flock of children were guided past Evarista and her Paladin escort, heading to worship school, giggling and chatting like only kids can do.

[Elias Caldera]

Amidst the throngs of the devoted, the downtrodden and the desperate, Elias Caldera sat alone upon one of the temple’s pews, one recently made vacant and his alone to burden with the closing of the Druvin’s sermon. Valdinox, her form and grace as grand as her consecrated words, retreated from the altar’s rostrum at the end of her exhortation, a serene smile upon her lips even as the hordes of impassioned believers hastily began to flock towards her more secluded anteroom, eager and anxious in equal parts to hear her wisdom made more personal, more intimate.

The giant Isurian was a curiosity even among the great lord’s oft times considered ‘odd’ assembly of Ravok’s anointed hierarchy. As far as Elias knew, she was the only Isurian -hell, the only nonhuman- to have ever been ordained by Rhysol and allowed to join his near divine echelon of chosen servants. It spoke volumes of the dark god’s infinite mercy and wisdom of course, as the Isurian’s preaching’s proved as beautiful and enlightened as any other Druvin before her, even despite her pitiable race’s shortcoming. Unfortunately, today those preachings felt dolefully hollow, mundane, and devoid of the righteous sting evening mass often held for Ravok’s devout. This was not of course the Druvin’s fault in any sense, absolutely not! Unerring and unfailing in her fervent faith, she was a testament to her god’s greatness and his infallible will, as was all his handpicked servants. The fault lay instead in the wretch who sat alone upon the pew, head hung low between hands clasped and resting upon the bench in front. In his state, he seemed an almost ardent and fervid soul, one whose own personal veneration had yet to cease despite the priestess’s final word. As was usually the case with the apprentice, the truth of the matter was less sacrosanct than it seemed, as his veneer of hallowed introspection and silent prayer hid the true turbulence and turmoil that plagued his thoughts beneath.

Naturally, the libertine son of Ravok had many, many a problem to which today’s humdrum of distress and concern could be accredited to, but it was something more fresh and despicably poignant that defied him his long sought peace that morning. The trip from his home to the great cathedral had been miserably long, one filled with the rantings and diatribes of an overly keen ravasolaman who had not stopped his tirade of babbling since the scarred stryfer’s boarded his vessel. Incessant and trivial beyond reason, the Ravokian had been made to suffer a verbal storm of endless chit chat and pointless gossip, but in the midst of the mouthy maelstrom there had been a snippet that had caught pale swordsman’s attention, one whose flippant revelation had shaken the sworn son to his core.

“Ah, so you’re going to morning mass are you? Nothing like a good sermon to wake one’s soul and body on a wondrous day like today, eh. Oh, Rhysol's smiling face! You know, when I was a kid, I remember how amazing the temple looked in the morning sun. We used to go up to the City Center once every few days just to see the colors on the stone. It's a shame that it'll never get finished, though... Shame about the Voice too…”

That was how it had started, that was how he had been introduced to the truth; The Voice, champion of the Defiler and undying emissary of chaos in this world… was gone.

Admittedly, the Caldera had been absent from his sacred city for an… unfortunate amount of time, but to believe such horrors had taken place in his forlorn truancy was unimaginable, unbelievable even, but before he rounded on the ravosalaman with a fury that reflected as much, the pieces began to fit together all too perfectly for his liking. “Go on.” He had said, the words dripping from his trembling lips even before he knew he had uttered them. As requested, the giddy canal pilot recounted the troubling tale from last year’s Fall in excruciatingly detail, speaking casually of Gru’tal’s return from his quest abroad, of the Ebonlord’s admittance to a search for a new Voice with Rhysol’s aid. Of how he had offered every citizen in Ravok that day the opportunity to join his momentous task and help the Black Sun and the Ebonstryfe reclaim their god’s Voice, About how yellow lily tea prices had skyrocketed that season and-

Elias wasn’t sure which part bothered him more, the cruel and bewildering revelation that this city had been without their lord’s greatest advocate at its head for so long without anyone knowing, or how nonchalantly the petching ravosalaman had divulged such an earth-shattering and epochal epiphany. Whichever one it was, both still tormented the mage’s thoughts relentlessly, and on a day where both mind and body should have been as one in loyal union in light of the task before him, it was a problem.

The solider, as evident by the armor and appropriate weaponry he had clad himself in, tried to amend the miserable situation as best he could, determined to give his purpose center stage in order to pass through the day without anymore distractions of gloom and woe, but it hadn’t worked. His task, his so called ‘purpose’ was one of such belittling triviality its reminder served only to turn already churned waters to a froth of indignation and abject exasperation. His return to Ravok after so long a time away should have one of celebration and esteemed acknowledgement, but ever since his boot had landed on the city’s dock, nothing could have been further from the truth. That fact had culminated into today’s orders, one which left a bitter taste in the swordsman’s mouth as he wondered and waited for a paladin whose rumored cruelty and malice were nearly legendary, and the hapless girl who had somehow earned the ire and attention of the city’s shadowy masters.

A 'chaperone' they called me... He mused sourly.

A chorus of laughter, sweet and beguilingly innocent stirred the somber Ravokian from his worries. His shaven head lifted itself upright for the first time since he’d sat down, shaken from his lamentation and echoed by the creak and groan of his warrior’s attire as he rose from the pew. The children rushing playfully by to their morning lessons had alerted him to the presence of the Vitrax’s doors being opened and the two disparate souls passing under its archway. It was hard to imagine they weren’t just the two people he was meant to be looking for.

The apprentice allowed himself one final, secluded sigh, before going rigid and making his way over to the paladin and the pale girl at his heel. He may not have shaken loose this unwanted cloak of anguish, but he the least he could do was stifle its billowing for the time being. He was still a soldier after all, and a loyal one at that, no realization, no matter how big or small, could ever take that away from him again.

With a weary smile and an avid salute, Elias introduced himself cordially to his superior officer, as only a soldier could do.

Along Came a Spider

[Evarista]

It's been several weeks since Evarista arrived here, and those weeks haven't been kind to her. Although she was apprehensive what their "experiments" would entail, that turned out to be the easy part. The difficult part about this place was the social environment. She had thought her family was bad, but that was only because she never experienced anything else. Evarista had expected the government to be part of the city's polite society, but for the Black Sun and especially for the Ebonstryfe, that was simply not the case. Even putting aside her informal status as a prisoner, the militaristic atmosphere made her intensely uncomfortable. People constantly leered and sneered at each other, never held back their profanities and had no concept of personal space. Almost everyone carried weapons that they rattled and brandished at every opportunity. The soldiers apparently didn't think casually pointing their blades at people was a big deal, and didn't seem to realize how much they were scaring her. The Institute, which she had briefly attended a few years ago, was a more calm and laid-back place, but the temple proper was not an environment for someone of delicate upbringing. Coming here for a sermon, sure. But living here? A nightmare. She never thought she'd come to miss the privacy of her room so quickly, and so intensely. The real travesty was yet to come, though. When the paladin came to her that morning and told her she was supposed to fight, she thought it was a joke. But it wasn't. The best she could do was turning her arm into a chitinous glaive and lunge at him awkwardly, barely staying upright when he hit back the first time. When she started sobbing from the pain after getting hit the second time, the paladin called it quits. Happy to have the humiliation end, Evarista shuffled after him through the Vitrax, hunched over and rubbing the fresh bruises. She wasn't sure what else they expected. Maybe she was capable of dangerous feats, but she had to be in the right state of mind, which she definitely wasn't right now. The Druvin's muffled voice seeped out in the corridor as they approached the congregation hall. The concluding words of her sermon were infused with a powerful emotion that could be felt even through the thick mahogany of the door. Her voice had a magnetic quality, sticking to the mind like honey, but and Evarista was repulsed by it. Sayers of big words was always something she ran away from, not towards. This was no different. Since childhood, Rhysol has been explained to her as someone who saw and knew everything, or at least everything worth seeing and knowing. That rubbed the privacy-loving girl the wrong way. She'd be more receptive to his teachings if his methods weren't so invasive. Not least the methods of his church and his clergy. Oh, sure, they could impose on others as much as they wanted... but she wouldn't forgive them for imposing on her. A short silence, followed by many voices and the shuffling of feet marked the end of the sermon. The paladin pushed the doors open, allowing the pair to step inside the hall. Walking behind the official's wide back to avoid bumping into people as he ploughed through them, she idly wondered why she was brought here. Her gaze followed the backs of the people leaving through the door. Most of them were heading for the exit, about to return to their normal lives in the city; the sermon was just a part of the schedule. She was like them just a few weeks ago, and would much have preferred to stay just as they were: guests. Evarista didn't notice that someone had approached them before the stranger gave the paladin a salute. He looking like another soldier. Has she met him before? No clue. She wasn't great at remembering faces, even less so when she's learned to avoid the soldiers' habitually leering stares by focusing all of her attention on her own shoes. Well, their shoes worked as well. In fact, by now, she'd have an easier time recognizing these fellows by their shoes than by their faces. At least she shoes didn't perpetually scowl and look like they'd spit at you at any moment. Having given the soldier a once-over with her foggy eyes, Evarista let her gaze wander off indifferently, more interested in the carvings on the walls behind the men than in the men themselves. She stood slightly behind the paladin, hugging her elbows absent-mindedly and waiting for the soldiers to finish their conversation, so that the paladin would finally let her return to her quarters. Whatever the conversation was going to be about. Hopefully nothing related to her.

[Kayak]

The Paladin looked over Elias, not the least bit impressed by the man's gruff appearance. One could never assume that scars meant a successful career in combat, after all, this man could just be the type to piss off lowly Sunberthian whores, only to receive a steak knife to the cheek. The paladin inwardly chuckled at the thought, to the point that he almost convinced himself that such a musing must be true. But the man looked... tired. Even his salute seemed to lack a certain fervor. A weakness perhaps? The paladin smiled, "City life too tiring for one as 'accomplished' as you, Elias?" Then, to both test Elias and further antagonize him, the man eased his sword up a finger's width from its scabbard, just enough to elicit the challenge scrape to be heard. He knew the apprentice wouldn't dare to challenge him here in the temple. He'd be killed in so few ticks, most of the zealots here wouldn't notice until the head rolled down the pew. Or so he assumed. After all, Elias was just an apprentice. Set to do apprentice work. The paladin's free hand alighted between Evarista's shoulder blades, guiding her forward a bit forcefully toward Elias. "Here's your charge, chaperone. She's a very special flower with very special connections. That means should anything happen to a single hair upon her head, you'll be the one paying for it. Do as she says, within reason. Take her about town, visit her family, have some fun. Let everyone know that the Nitrozian's precious little daughter is safe and sound as she helps her city. A true patriot." Removing his hand from her back, "Bring her back sometime tonight, another paladin will be here to escort her to her chambers." With that the paladin turned away from the pair, heading back through the doors, before glancing over his shoulder one last time at Elias, further unsheathing his sword, moments before the doors shut heavily. And with that, Elias and Evarista were alone in the holiest of temples on Mizahar, surrounded by zealots, with enough possibilities for freedom, or at least the illusion of it, before the young Nitrozian lass. Outside of the temple, several Ravosalas sat waiting for the exodus of patrons. The temple was a premier destination for most, and those that exited were often much more generous with their tips. A woman in a short sundress, pole in hand, head covered by a floppy hat awaited for her boat, carved to look like a spider's head upon a crocodile's body, to attract customers. But many were turned away, preferring the more standard look for rides. Plus, everyone that visited the temple often, knew of Veaya's truly terrible affliction. She couldn't not talk when around people. It was impossible for the light haired lass. She was a prattler, chatterbox, windbag, blabbermouth. And somehow she truly seemed to know everything that was going on, and she never shut up about it. But still, the woman kept at it. Kept on trying to do good, honest work for the sake of Ravok.

[Elias Caldera]

“Service is its own thrill, ser. Regardless of where it takes me.” The apprentice responded with practiced resolve, trying to accomplish something with his teeth that one might have considered a smile if they were being generous. The banter, if it could be called that, sounded jubilant enough, but the sullen blue eyes that accompanied it insisted upon the stark truth. Elias blamed the lackluster delivery on the upsettingly distracting noise of steel sliding from leather, a familiar melody he’d enjoyed more times than he cared to recount in his years, and one he was sure he’d hear countless times again after today. He made sure the sound stayed just so however, a sound, as he kept his eyes fixated on the paladin, defiant of the nervous twitch that belied his quickly mounting apprehension.

He tried to focus on the man's words instead of the wicked grin that birthed them.

It didn’t help.

“Of course, my lord.” The pale soldier declared after the paladin was finished, adding a short bow of his head as emphases. Elias knew there were those among the ranks of the Stryfe who appreciated gusto in their subordinates, and then there were those who stomped on fools who had the audacity to display such a vile thing in their presence. He could tell this paladin was more than likely one of the latter camp, a conclusion only fortified by the troubling reputation that preceded him. As such, the humble servant decided it would be best to keep things short and sweet between the two of them as well as he could, lest that damnable sword of his find its way full and free from its sheath after one slip of the tongue or misconstrued look.

Before long the man was on his way, his orders delivered and his business curtly concluded, save of course for one last taunting gesture he kept in reserve till the end right before the heavy doors of the Vitrax slammed shut behind him. It was all Elias could do to keep his contented countenance from devolving into the snarl he’d been hiding. Instead, as the doors closed, the grin merely faded from his face like sleep washed from the eyes as the apprentice now turned his attentions fully to the girl who’d been left his charge.

The Nitrozian girl…

The family name wasn’t lost on the young man. The Nitrozians owned half the bloody ports and wharfs from the slave markets to the shipyards, not to mention almost the entirety of all the housing that Ravok so generously supplied its happy populace. They were the wealthy and the elite, pinnacles of Ravokian society even among the five high houses. Why then, was one of them standing before him, shackled by chains of threats and menace? Cowed and crestfallen as she was, it was difficult to make out any details behind the veil of long dark hair that fell about her pale features with her eyes cast down like they were. She reminded him of some of the kids he had first started the academy with back when he was still just a petitioner among the Ebonstryfe. They had been the first to die, he recalled somberly.

It was a poor and perplexing start.

“Bit of a bastard that one, isn’t he.” He announced with a bitter grin, as nonchalant in his sudden insubordination as one would be when speaking about the weather. The mage needed to find common ground he realized, and nothing seemed easier to share than a mutual distaste for the bastard that had brought the two of them together. Or at least so he hoped. Just in case he’d read the situation wrong though, he hastily made a motion with his head towards the temple exit and bid her follow before she had a chance to respond. “Well, you’ll not need to suffer such with me, my lady Nitrozian, that I assure you.” Elias continued, every once in a while turning around to make sure the timid creature was still following. “My name…” He grunted softly, pushing open the great doors of the exalted temple with some effort as Syna’s radiance bathed the two of them in her midday light. “…is Elias Caldera.”

The ghastly pallor the pair shared would have been almost haunting in its cadaverous revelation by the sun’s touch had it not been so comically blinding first and foremost. The least ivory of two stood aside with an awkward cough beneath one hand, his other swept wide and inviting the blooded heir to take the first steps outside towards her new facade of freedom. “It’s not a name with as much clout and luster behind it as yours of course,” Elias carried on carefully, “but its one that belongs to a man who understands respect and civility when its due.” He let that statement sit and simmer for a while, unexplained any further for obvious reasons, though he doubted it needed to be touched upon again in any case. In the meantime, harsh eyes scanned their surroundings, the bustle and hustle of the temple steps thankfully rather relaxed for the moment now that the sermons were concluded. Unfortunately, that meant many of the ravosalas that one could often rely upon to be waiting for them along the canals had long since been apprehended by the retiring faithful who were now returning to their businesses and homes afar.

All save but one…

“Oh god.” Elias muttered beneath a destitute sigh as he recognized the floppy straw hat bouncing lazily from afar. Veaya… The groan within his mind was made audible outside of it when the woman suddenly jumped, her blonde hair bobbing in excitement as she noticed the two making their way from the temple and towards the waters of Ravok’s placid thoroughfares.

She waved and Elias pretended desperately not to notice.

“The day is yours, my lady, ‘within reason.’ Until relieved I am your humble shadow, unless you require me to be otherwise then you merely need to say the word. Now, perhaps you’d enjoy a brisk, summer day’s stroll through the streets this evening?”

The waving intensified.

“Nothing like a proper sashay through Ravok’s wondrous solid, dependable roadways to inspire one’s spirits, I always say.”

“Oi!”

The swordsman swallowed nervously.

“Who doesn’t appreciate good, reliable cobblestone and oak beneath their boot-”

“Ravosala!”

[Evarista]

Having spaced out at the start of their conversation, Evarista stared at the paladin's suddenly retreating back in mild confusion. Shaking her head lightly, she tried to recollect what he had just said. She was free to go? That was a strange change of policy after keeping her here at knifepoint for weeks. Were they making fun of her? Trying to make sense of what just happened, she gave the soldier in front of her a point-blank stare, properly taking in his feature for the first time. He didn't look to be in a joking mood, despite the forced smile on his face, but his first comment caught her attention for a different reason. He was the first soldier she encountered to openly say something negative about a superior. Before she could nod, her new companion was already on the way towards the exit, apparently as much in a hurry to get away from here as she was. What he said next caught her even more off-guard; the humble tone reminded her more of the estate guards at home than of a government official with an inflated sense of self-importance. Which, frankly, seemed to be the standard of fine attitude here at the temple. This man was different, somehow, not quite as poisoned by the temple air as the rest of them. Maybe he was new. He certainly didn't look new. Trailing slightly behind him, she snuck a few curious glances. His worn and scarred face looked to have seen a lot more action than the average big-mouthed saber-rattler, which were a dime a dozen here. A bit too worn and scarred to be normal, actually. Well, whatever dangers he's met seemed to have beaten some manners into the man who called himself Elias Caldera, and that was a start. "Evarista." She seldom introduced herself with her last name, and in this case he'd already been told, so there was no need to append it. She also didn't say that she was pleased to meet him, since that would be an overstatement, and saying something in the style of "the pleasure is all yours" felt unnecessary. His words held a mildly sycophantic tone, also very uncharacteristic of a soldier, but all too typical of anyone coming to kowtow before a Nitrozian to get things done. She knew full well that kowtowing to blood of the family was something largely anyone had to do to get their way in this city, even if that blood of the family usually wasn't her. Usually. Despite that, he still marched in front, and she traced his footsteps, staring at his broad back blankly and momentarily forgetting where they were going. It was a habit she's acquired quickly here, following the designated broad back like cattle follows a pastor. Not much different from her time at the Institute, really. Not much different from her childhood, either. Follow, nod, do as they say, but as soon as they look away... well, perhaps it was a bit early to take her thoughts in that direction. If she made a wrong move now, she probably wouldn't get away with just a stern word and a spanking like in the good old days. Yet another time it showed that maybe adulthood was just not for her. The light of the sun and the wave of fresh air seemed to almost lift Evarista off the ground, consuming her in a momentary sense of freedom. The day had started terribly, just like every day in the last weeks, but this was a marked improvement. Simply being able to hover out downtown on a whim... only now did she realize how much she actually missed it. And, by extension, the activity that always had to accompany a good hover-out - a swig of something aromatic. The only beverage readily available at the temple was beer, as the soldiers drank it by the barrel, but since Evarista wasn't a beer-drinker herself, she's largely been in dehydration mode. The lust for real alcohol was so strong that she was about to break into a sprint, longing to get home. But, then again, she didn't feel ready for the conversation that would happen at home after all this absence, so she'd have to go to a place where she wasn't likely to meet any familiar faces. Spinning her head around looking for a ravosala, she found that they were a bit late to the party, as the temple-goers have mostly dispersed and taken all the transportation with them. Her cloudy eyes skipped past the conspicuous straw hat multiple times before finally noticing it. For reasons unknown to her, however, Elias wanted to walk. There was a strange insistence in his voice... did ravosalas make him seasick or something? Not that she would mind a stroll, now that she finally got outside, but the throbbing bruises on her arms and legs reminded her that she's already gotten an overdose of physical exercise today. If Elias was an actual servant, she'd ask him to carry her, but unfortunately, he wasn't. Whatever his gripes with ravosalas were, he'd have to endure them. The trip wasn't to be long. The enthusiastically waving straw hat driver beamed brightly when the prospective customer began shuffling towards her vessel. Evarista habitually slipped her hand into her skirt pocket to take out a coin, but her fingers met only fabric. She didn't have any money on her when they brought her to the temple, and never thought of it since then, seeing as the Black Sun didn't exactly charge her for the stay. The soldier would have to pay, then. "Café Fleurs." Stepping into the fancifully decorated ravosala gingerly, Evarista sat down with her back towards the driver and immediately spaced out, able to think only of the heavenly liquids that waited for her at the destination. Ravosalamen were nothing but faceless pole-holders to her, not worthy of an ear, let alone a reply. Veaya, of course, knew this. Like any driver worth her salt, she knew at least half the city by face, and knew that some people were... more talk-active than others. The White Neckerchief was firmly in the "others" category, so the never-closing mouther turned her fullest attention to Elias. *** As the ravosala skimmed along the canals towards the Merchant District, the black-haired girl closed her eyes, breathing deeply of the light breeze and feeling it blow her hair around. It was ecstatic, making her forget where she was for a moment. It felt like the past weeks were just a bad dream, and now, after lazily eating breakfast even later than usual, she was heading to the café to grab a midday drink, just like normal. Just like usual. Without Evarista noticing it, her hand crept into her other skirt pocket, pulling out her prayer beads and slowly counting them with her thumb, in tact with the soft lap of water against the ravosala's flanks. The driver's babble, coming from somewhere above her, melted into the city ambience seamlessly. It really was just like a normal day. *** Like all pleasant things, the ride was over too quickly. Evarista snapped out of her trance with a start when the vessel bumped into the side of a pier. Even before she opened her eyes, she knew they were at the café, since the air tasted "wetter" here, thanks to the unusual amount of greenery. Being used to staying in stuffy environments for weeks on end, be it her room or the bowels of the temple, she was something of an air connoisseur once she did get out. The ambient aromas brought back her memories of this place... which was mainly the terrible wine, but also the relative anonymity that the posh watering holes on the Noble District didn't offer. Meeting a familiar waitress' gaze, she raised a finger and nodded slightly, before sitting down at the nearest table on the terrace. That meant "the usual". You'd need perfect memory to be a waitress, remembering "the usual" for so many customers, but apparently the ones at this café did. Putting an elbow on the table and resting her chin on her hand, she made a tiny inviting gesture to the soldier, pointing to the chair across from her just in case he would put on too much gentlemanly airs and remain standing. Soldiers were strange like that sometimes. People of polarities. Waiting for the wine to arrive, she stared silently and unblinkingly at her new companion. Her eyes were empty but not absent, focused but not examining. She seemed to be just... looking. Even as her thin lips parted to speak quiet words, the uncanny stare remained unbroken. "Tell me. Do you... are you at the temple by choice..." Her intonation showed that she was about to continue, but there was a long pause following the unapologetically invasive question to someone she's barely met. After licking the corner of her lips briefly, she finished almost in a whisper. Her eyes never left him. "...or by something else?"

[Kayak]

Veaya bounced excitedly seeing the young Nitrozian woman and the rugged looking man next to her. She waved and shouted for them, offering her services, knowing that Miss Evarista tended to not be particular about who drove her. Veaya didn't know the man though. This excited her. She planned on learning as much as she could from him. Was he new to the city? He looked like a soldier. A good looking soldier at that. And Veaya knew all men loved to be doted on and praised and kept busy in conversation. Plus Miss Evarista wasn't much of a talker. So this gentleman would get the full five star Veaya treatment.

"Welcome aboard my boat Miss Eva, her name is Waterweaver. Traffic is a bit busy with Lady Valdinox's sermon wrapping up, but I'll get us to your favored cafe lickity split."

Turning toward the man, "Welcome aboard good ser. And who might you be? Aside from the man with a wonderfully delicious and smoldering gaze. Might you be a soldier?" She pushed off from the platform, and the torture and interrogation of Elias began. And as anyone who'd suffered Veaya in the past knew, she would not stop. There was even a rumor that some of the top Ebonstryfe interrogators were forced to take her boat from time to time just to see how long they could last. And supposedly Lazarin had a particular soft spot for the lass.

"Did you see that they're starting work on the old part of the Temple? Oh, Rhysol's smiling face! When I was a kid, I remember how amazing that place looked in the morning sun.
We used to go up to the City Center once every few days to see the colors on the stone. It's a shame that it'll never get finished, though..."

After much conversation and navigating the canals, Veaya brought them to Eva's watering hole. "Have a lovely time Miss Nitrozian, and you too good ser. I'll be in there area if you need me again." She gave Elias a very awkward wink, and pushed off the platform once more, tipping her hat to him as she did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many eyes watched as Eva walked in, but more landed on the stern looking man. He certainly didn't seem the type to come into their establishment, and he got more than couple of judgmental glares. But any comments were kept to themselves. A different girl from the one who took Evarista's 'usual' order approached the table, empty handed. The girl was nervous looking, and maintained the slightest of stutters. This girl was rather tall and stout, homely looking, and attempting a subservient smile.

"M-miss Nitrozian. We, um, are out of your usual. I'm s-so sorry, with Morwen ruining winter for everyone, the stores were not able to be replenished. We have a few others in the b-back. Management said we could take you in back, and pick one out for yourself, on the house. We do have some nice ones from Riverfall, they are f-famous for their wines."

The woman waved her hand toward the door in the back of the shop, giving Elias a pleading look, hoping he wouldn't cause any trouble. He certainly looked the type and many of the women in the shop shared her concern. "Anything I can g-get for you ser? Some tea perhaps? Or a snack? A friend of Miss Nitrozian is of c-course a valued customer." Her eyes would never match his, too nervous to meet his gaze. Poor girl must be new.

Code courtesy of Prophet the swagnificent

[Elias Caldera]

Elias’s groaned under his breath, defeated and destitute as he trailed behind the young mistress. In fact, he groaned all the way from the temple steps to the banks of the canal, his soul already wracked by the torment he knew was coming. It wasn’t until the overjoyed and overenthusiastic voice of his soon to be torturer shook him from his stupor did that groaning stop. He looked up to find Vaeya staring jubilantly back at him, her rich blonde hair and iconic headwear swaying gently from atop her perch upon the ravosala. The the groaning started anew, though this time it was blissfully ignored and quickly drowned out by the ravosalawoman as the first wave in her cordial assault of prattling, chattering and bantering felled the mighty mage beneath its ferocity almost immediately.

He crumpled into the boat, trying to fold himself into one of the narrow spaces the tiny vessel held host to, desperate to escape her attention.

It didn’t work.

She was done with madam Evarista -as the girl’s name turned out to be- within only ticks, shifting her devious focus instead to the swordsman who’d accompanied the girl. Jealousy struck first, then hopelessness followed when he realized the Nitrozian seemed quite content to drift off into her own little world and leave the poor chaperone on his own to fend off the exuberant beast at his heels.

“And who might you be?”

Elias looked up in surprise, eyes locked on the blonde-haired woman in search of some kind of humor in her features, but there was none aside from the giddy smile she always wielded, even when there was no bloody reason for it. She truly didn’t recognize him, he realized with a start. For a moment, the pale killer felt a genuine pang of offense at her ignorance, even something akin to disappointment as crazy as it was to believe. How could she forget m- Oh right.

The childish indignity faded in an instant as realization dawned on him. Truth be told he could hardly blame the woman now that he considered it. He and Veaya had crossed paths more times than he cared to count in the past, which was to say anything more than once, but the last time had been nearly… Gods above, three years ago now! The ravosalawoman had known Elias Caldera back then, the grinning buffoon who’d returned to Ravok to slay his treacherous father and exact his righteous revenge like storybook hero, not the pale, miserable creature who now occupied her Waverider, or Waterstrider or whatever the hell it was she’d called it.

His face a canvas of scars and gloom, his hair all but gone, and his entire demeanor itself reshaped from the ground up, of course she didn’t recognize him. There were times when Elias didn’t even recognize himself, so how could he fault her for the same. Before he had the chance to decide whether or not it was worth it to remind her, let alone utter a single word, Veaya was off again, another tangent preoccupying her thoughts and leaving the young Stryfer to his, at least so he’d hoped. Something she said caught his attention.

“You’re not the first to mention the temple’s construction...”

Oh gods… Now he’d gone and done it. The words had slipped out before he’d realized it and now Elias, ever the fool, had gone and made the worst mistake one could with one such as Veaya; he’d engaged. As he cautiously peered up, praying to any divine that would listen she hadn’t noticed, he found the blonde gawking back him, thrilled to the point of dizziness. There was no escaping her now, and they both knew it. Well petch, he thought, he’d already taken the bait, might as well try and enjoy his dinner before the line was yanked taught.

“…Go on.” The mage sighed.

And with that, he surrendered himself to the gossip.

-----------------------------------------------

The reimancer flinched visibly as Veaya winked, his body drained of all vigor and energy as he came stumbling out of the boat and back unto dry land. He reminded himself sourly that’d he asked for this, and that it had probably been worth it considering what he’d learnt, but Elias knew full well it would be a while before he fully recovered after what that woman had just subjected him to.

As he weakly waved goodbye to the fading image of the blonde menace, one of his gold coins neatly tucked into her pockets as she sailed off into the distance, he noticed for the first time the peculiar color he’d been standing amongst ever since he’d disembarked; It was… green! More green than he’d ever seen this far from the rich manors and dainty estates that littered the city’s center. It was an impressively unique sight, he had to admit, and one he’d likely never have had witnessed had it not been for his duties that day. Café Fluers, even with all its cherry foliage, was not a place a man like Elias frequented, to put it mildly. Like a good soldier however, he was willing to tolerate what he had to for the sake of his mission.

That’s right, my ‘mission’ He cautioned himself, shaking loose the cobwebs that had taken hold of his thoughts and righting his posture into one that resembled the proud servant of Rhysol he claimed to be. He had to remember why he was here, and more importantly, who he was here for.

Following without a word, the Ravokian escorted his ward into the restaurant, taking keen note of how she reacted and who she talked to. The girl seemed quite changed in her manner now that she’d been freed, and it was interesting to see how that manifested itself in everything from how she carried herself to how she addressed others. Naturally, Elias took up a position nearby, standing vigilant as she drooped herself into a chair with all the familiarity of one's favorite living room couch. She’d been here before, he noted, many times it seemed. This did come across as the kind of place her kind would enjoy after all, and she wasn’t alone among the mildly influential and wealthy. A dozen or so eyes were looking at them -or him to be more specific- judging, scowling and worrying all in disparate measures. Good, he thought, the more attention the better if he was to understand his goal correctly. Let them look, let them whisper, they were serving their purpose, just as he was. The only difference was they simply hadn't realized it yet.

A particular pair of eyes among the sea of stares caught his attention however, and Elias couldn’t help but notice that Evarista was also among those ogling her black-clad guardian. He pretended not to notice, or at least not to care in any case, leaving an air of polite discretion towards the young woman’s odd attentiveness. Who knew how long her time in the Stryfe’s care she’d been forced to endure, depraved of all of life’s simple…. necessities. It wasn’t his place to judge. Hell, even Veaya had shown a calamitously poor taste in men when he’d boarded her vessel. Perhaps such things were contagious among women?

There was no ignoring the wordless invitation that eventually followed however, and soon Elias found himself seated across from his charge, sheathed sword gracelessly propped against the table between them as he maneuvered into his chair. He was thankful for her gesture truth be told, it let him know in no uncertain terms that he had either made a good impression early on, or was at least still being given the chance to yet do so. Yet despite his unbeknownst eagerness to begin learning what secrets he could, it was the blooded heiress who spoke first, and her question quite thoroughly caught the pale soldier unaware.

Oh my… He thought, bemused and intrigued by the bold Nitrozian’s shamelessly brazen inquiry. She’s either very desperate, or very daring. I’m not sure which one I like more. Eva, as he decided he was going to refer to her from now on if only in his thoughts, had skipped all pretense and foreplay between them, opting instead to go straight for the jugular. Their little game had hardly even begun and already she was angling towards the finish line. Just like Elias had done when they’d first met, she was looking for common ground between them, but in her case, it wasn’t just to find favor and inspire a bit of conversation for future play, no, nothing so convoluted. She was already plotting her escape… and Elias’s role in it.

Either she had yet to recognize what he truly represented, or better yet, she’d sniffed out exactly what he was from the very beginning. Curiosity peaked either way, the mage was inspired. His cordial demeanor faded, replaced with the poorly hidden countenance of a worried man as he hesitated with his response. Glancing left, then right, Elias swallowed nervously, playing up this new role he was surely going to delight in. His lips worked themselves into a fuss, trying to find the words, but before he could answer, a perfectly timed and unannounced shadow darkened their doorstep.

The girl, big as she was, whimpered and apologized like a mouse a fraction her size. She pleaded and appealed, attempting to nervously navigate the ire of her betters in hopes of quickly and quietly subverting any sort of commotion over the restaurant’s lackluster service. Unfortunately for her, In the waitress’s pathetic display, Elias found opportunity and pounced without a second thought. He rose to his feet, much to the instant chagrin of everyone watching from afar, and set his cold eyes on the girl who’d drawn the short straw among the staff and been sent out as sacrifice. “You would see your lady interrupt her own comfort in an effort to make amends for your ineptitude?” He demanded, though not in a boisterous and bellowing manner as the harshness of his words might have implied. Café Fluers seemed too pristine and special a place to handle such vulgarity from its patrons. No, his tone alone was enough to convey the outrage and indignation he needed.

The swordsman raised a hand and the girl flinched, but he ignored her, pointing instead to the backroom she’d come scurrying out of earlier. “You will bring your selection to the lady Nitrozian for her convenience of choice, and then you will implore her forgiveness for suggesting anything less. Is that clear, girl?” The poor lass made a sound akin to a squeak before abruptly bowing so deeply her head nearly bounced off the finely polished floor. She darted away, out of sight and out of mind, allowing Elias to return to his seat.

Shyke… I should have gotten a crumpet or something.

His focus returned to Eva, the hard glare he’d used to send the waitress running for her life softening in lieu of hers. Taking his time to choose the words that came next, he opted to ask a question of his own instead of answering hers. Conveniently, it seemed her query had been forgotten about for the time being.

“I get the impression you've been a guest of the Ebonstryfe for a while now. You could have gone anywhere with your new found independence, yet you chose this place over all the others. Why?”

YikesThat post length... Sorry about that.

[Evarista]

Having posed her question, Evarista watched the man's reaction intently. As usual, she only realized the tactlessness of her words after speaking them, but an escaped word was not a bird and couldn't be put into the cage it came from. This unpleasant sensation of having blurted something strange and then being helpless in the face of the fallout was very familiar to her, and the main reason why she usually suppressed any desire to speak even in those rare instances where it arose. But she did want to know that about him. She didn't care who he was, or where he came from, or what his favorite time of the year was, or any other irrelevancy that would normally precede the substance of a conversation between strangers. Perhaps it would have been prudent to take the long road if she wanted a decent reply, though. People did tend to deflect questions that were asked too early. But the man in front of her gave a much more ambiguous reaction, the many muscles on his face moving to show his bewilderment and hesitation. A very unsoldierly response, to say the least. This surprised her, and she was eager to hear what would come next. However, the silence over their table was broken by a third voice, piercing Evarista with a pang of irritation. Still propping up her head with her arm, she turned towards the waitress slightly, she tried to concentrate on her babbling, which proved to be rather difficult. It reminded her of the chattering ravosalawoman and thus her brain kept tuning it out, automatically relegating it to the status of ambient noise. After the waitress finished speaking, Evarista leaned back in the chair slightly stared at her blankly, doing a double take. Did this woman really just tell her to go and rummage through the staff storage? That wasn't something she'd expect to hear even at a dockside tavern. This waitress looked unfamiliar, though. Maybe she did just get promoted from a dockside tavern. Far too early in her career, as it turned out. Completely at a loss about how to react to this nonsense, the young aristocrat continued staring wordlessly while trying to come up with a suitable insult. What dumbstruck her even more, however, was the rescue. She was startled no less than the waitress when the imposing man suddenly rose from his seat, looking like he was ready to kill. The atmosphere on the café terrace changed instantly. The unpleasant chill shooting down Evarista's spine wasn't from the soldier's action itself, but from the thickening of the very air around him. While normally oblivious to such cues, the short time at the temple taught her to read them. Here at the café, which was her long-frequented place of relaxation, she had dropped her guard without noticing it. A mistake. Why? Because this was not actually Café Fleurs. This was still the temple. She had brought the temple with her, and it would follow her wherever she went. What happened next went by in a flash. With a surprisingly well-worded rebuke, the warrior sent the servant away and returned to his seat. While the tension in the air remained for a bit longer, once it became clear that no serious scandal or violence was brewing, the other patrons soon reverted their attention. Putting her chin back onto her palm, Evarista gazed upon Elias again, now with slightly different eyes. He was definitely not like the other soldiers, but what was it exactly that set him apart? She couldn't put her finger on it. He went to the trouble of defending her, even though it wasn't his duty to do so. Sure, he was supposed to protect her from physical harm, but protecting her from boorish maids was not in any way necessary. Family servants and junior family members sometimes did similar things, but only because it was their sworn duty to do so. Maybe this was what they called friendship? She wouldn't know. The whole concept of friendship was entirely second-hand information to her. He spoke, broaching a new topic. As if nothing strange had happened. Just as well, as far as Evarista was concerned. Pursing her lips slightly, she looked to be in thought for a few moments. Finally, she encapsulated all of her thoughts and memories in one word. "Habit." Her fingers began drumming against the white sheet-covered table, quietly at first, but progressively more impatiently. A restless shift on the chair and a sideways glance towards the café entrance. Since stepping out of the ravosala, her body and mind were set in top gear in anticipation of alcohol, and the unexpected delay was starting to cause her physical discomfort. After a few ticks, while seemed like bells to the girl, a pair of waitresses finally came marching out on the terrace, one carrying a case with three wine bottles in it, the other carrying a tray with a glass. They balanced their flawlessly and looked to be rather practiced. The waitress who had messed up was not present. It looked like "the management" decided that she was done humiliating the establishment. Before either of the women could say a word, or even approach the table properly, Evarista was already done examining the bottles from afar and pointed silently at one of them. Not because she knew it was good, but because it was the only unfamiliar one, and she knew the other two to be garbage. This was the real downside with wishy-washy middle-class cafés, but at this point she'd gladly pick bad wine over no wine at all. The tray-carrying waitress, who had a mane of flaming-red hair tied up in a ponytail, put the tray down in front of Evarista. She took out the designated bottle from the case and carefully uncorked it, then pouring some of the contents into the glass. Her hand trembled only slightly, and she only briefly snuck a very nervous glance first at Evarista, then at her yet more intimidating companion. The black-haired patron watched everything with agonized impatience clearly reflected in her eyes. As soon as the bottle was no longer obstructing the glass, Evarista snatched it from the tray and lifted the long-awaited nectar to her lips. The rest of the world disappeared for a moment. Carefully leaving the wine bottle on the table, the Inarta turned to Elias with a strained smile, but composed enough to not to show any strange notes in her voice. Her dexterous hands produced a small notebook and a piece of graphite seemingly out of nowhere. "Would you like something, sir?" Taking his order, or lack thereof, both the servants retreated from the terrace. Meanwhile, having finished her first glass with startling swiftness, Evarista had already poured up a second one for herself. The blissful infusion improved her mood instantly; it was as if she was pulled out of a grey haze that the last weeks were spent in. Pressing the corner of the glass against her thin lips, she continued staring at Elias. Her flat expression was no different from usual, but her eyes had a faint glimmer that they didn't have before. "Hm..." Her tone had the slightest hint of mischief in it. "Have you ever served a Family?" Now that she could think lucidly, she realized what made him different from the other soldiers. He wasn't steam-boiled in the hot air of the Vitrax. This man had a much more subtle past. The Caldera surname didn't ring any bells, but that could just as well be because she was not updated on family politics - not even those of her own family, let alone the other ones. Evarista was about as sharp as a hammer when it came to social perception, with one exception. She could keenly recognize the trappings of a slave - a slave by any other name, and not necessarily a slave to an embodied master... but a slave none the less. She could smell it on some. She had smelled it on Hwyn, and she could smell it on this man, even though he and Hwyn were ostensibly polar opposites in every way. He had that something that made the back of her mind tingle. Was her intuition misleading her? Probably. She was aware that her intuition was worse than nothing. It fed her countless lies and only one truth. But as long as there was that one truth...

[Elias Caldera]

Watching with almost bated breath, Elias couldn’t help but crack a smile as the first glass of wine disappeared in the young woman’s ravenous clutches.

It was hastily replaced with a second sumptuous sacrifice a tick later, which seemed a tick too slow for Eva’s liking by the way she had so savagely attacked the poor thing’s predecessor and was now toying with her latest victim.

He’d been right after all it seemed, she had been a guest of the Stryfe, and she’d been one for a while now evidently. He doubted she was the kind of woman whose abstention from drink was one made by choice. He’d seen that kind of ‘lust’ for a thing like this before, felt it himself even, most fervently during his time as a mercenary down in Nyka where he’d been surrounded by the kind of men and woman who were all too versed in things like depravity and reckless dependence. It was same look those killers and cutthroats for hire got after taking a swig of something foul and fiery that they knew -right then and there- they’d regret for the rest of the day, and most of the next morning too, but couldn’t give two shykes about the consequences. It was a familiar sight back then, one made all the more unavoidable on ‘paydays’ when all that gold was just sitting around, burning a hole in one’s pockets with nothing better to be wasted upon than a good time at the nearest den of decadence.

The look the Nitrozian gave as she gulped down the sour red succor reminded him of that; She hadn’t just wanted a drink, she’d needed it.

Odd, considering how young she appeared, though not so surprising given her upbringing he mused. Yet, to have such a desperate vice and at such a young age, it was sad, if not deplorable some might say. For the Caldera however, judgement wasn’t his concern, for the confirmation of his suspicious only served to deepen what was fast becoming a near insatiable curiosity regarding this strange girl. He hadn’t realized it yet, but he’d been transfixed by the sight of her in that moment, staring in equal parts astonishment and admiration as she in turned stared right back at him. He realized it had been her lips that caught his eye in particular, slim and colorless like the rest of her, the way they’d been planted habitually upon the precipice of the wine glass, thin and teasing as they were, it began to make the soldier recognize a certain beauty he hadn’t quite taken note of during their initial introductions.

It was a delicate and genteel kind of elegance to which Elias couldn’t truthfully claim to be his ‘cup of tea’ as it were, but it was clearly hiding something more nefarious and exciting underneath, and perhaps that was why he was having such a hard time tearing his gaze away now. He was finally starting to catch a glimpse of what lay beneath the veil, and it was enticing.

As his gaze eventually crept its way upwards to match the dull blue hues quietly looking back at him, the two simply found themselves studying one another for a time, silently matching stares much like two hunters sizing up their prey.

An annoyance nervously cleared its throat nearby, shattering the silence. With a frown, Elias looked up to see the pair of waitresses waiting there uncomfortably at the edge of their table. He realized one of them had asked him something earlier and he’d all but ignored the question. Cloaking his exasperation as best he could, he moved to make a shooing motion that would see the two of them out of his sight, but upon second thought caught himself at the last moment and redirected his hand, pointing to the bottle instead. He gestured subtly for another, and with a bow, the girls were off, vanishing back into whatever void of servitude and overly practiced civility had spawned them.

Returning his attention to the raven-haired mystery sitting across from him, Elias caught the inquiry she’d so casually tossed his way, some new sense of playfulness in her tone accompanying it that almost threw him off. It appeared that wine had sparked a bit of life back in the girl, and he wondered if it would do him any good to have a taste as well.

“I have had… ‘dealings’ in the past, I suppose. Though, I wouldn’t call it service per say, and any time I may have spent in the company of the Families wasn’t nearly as cordial as this.” He smirked, silently pondering what she was trying to get at with that sort of question. Was she trying to assess whether he was accustomed to serving those of her affluent ilk? If so, it played perfectly into his own assessment of her inevitable plans for escape using his help. He chided himself then for not lying when he had to chance. He’d already planted the seed of chicanery earlier with his little act, it was best now not to forget he still needed to water it whenever the opportunity presented itself.

“Why?” He continued, eyes narrowing as his elbows planted themselves on the dainty wooden table with an audible groan of disapproval as he leaned in. “Do I strike you as the type who deals in the machinations of the elite? Or perhaps you think you recognize me from days gone by?” A gloved finger traced one of the many scars across his cheek with a vivid familiarity. “I’m often mistaken for someone else these days, you know. I’ve been told I just have… that kind of a face.”

There was a grin to accompany the eerie jest, but whatever humor may have been expected never reached the swordsman’s cold glare. He righted himself after a moment, sitting back in his chair and trying his best not reach for his blade out of habit. It was close enough for comfort, he kept trying to convince himself, but the argument wasn’t working nearly well he as he would have liked, and his fingers twitched against his leg in agitated protest.

“I’ll admit though, there’s always been a sense of wonderment for me when it came to the ‘big five.’” Elias’s gaze began to wander, distracted by the unsurprising urge to reminisce now that the memories had been touched upon. It had been inevitable really, and he’d known as much the moment he’d heard Eva’s last name. “Ever since I was a child I dreamed of belonging to something as grand and as noble as a great house. I always figured one day I’d make the Caldera name just as spectacular and synonymous with Ravok’s renown as the Lazarins or even the Nitrozians…” He swallowed, the faint smile etched unto the listless corners of his lips fading as his gaze abandoned the serenity of the canal way outside and returned to the pale girl he’d been tasked with chaperoning that day.

“Then I grew up, I suppose, and I realized the foolishness and futility of such stupid dreams… Another?”

He hefted the bottle at the heir nonchalantly, offering to refill her glass once more.

Apologies for the waitI'd planned to crank out a ton of posts this week for all my partners, but work went and delivered me a swift kick in the teeth as soon i'd finished the first.