The Pit of All Evil (Valerius)

[Amatus]

Summer 12, 512AV
The Pit


They slithered through the crowd of jousting elbows, Amatus and a petite female with a rubicund ribbon tangled in her strawberry waves. Hallow steps thumped beneath their soles, creaking beneath the crowd’s weight packed in the descending isles. He tugged her behind him, her grip squeezing a white manacle about his wrist. "Slow down!" she squeaked her foot catching between wooden cracks.

"What?!" the chatter had drowned her out, he barely heard her mousy yelp prickle his earlobes.

"SLOW DOWN!" her footing failed her, flopping her over on the blonde’s slender side.

His laugh floated over the crowd, as they tumbled to the bottom of the stairs and caught themselves. Metal pikes driven into the hard floor towered over them, skeletal digits uncurling from beneath the floor boards, ending in sharpened talons. "It looks a lot bigger from down here." His chin tilted upward, catching an eyeful of the setting sun that brought a waft of cool air from the docks through the baking city.

"I don't like it here." it was quieter near the bars, there was no need to shout, but her stammer was nearly too reserved to ensnare. She screwed a gold ring across her slender finger as she peered across the rods.

"You're the one that wanted to come here in the first place." Amatus chided with skeptical brow arched.

Her lips pursed forcing a lungful of air through the narrow chasm, a buzz trembling across her rosy buds. "I know. I heard a Nitrozian would be here." She released a distracted sigh between them.

"Ugh, really? You had me bring you all the way down here so you could catch a glimpse of another man?" Amatus slumped, eyes rolling in his skull. "How distasteful. You should have gone by yourself then. I’m not an escort." it was bruising to be outshone by a noble without having even met the man. Some Rovokain women, no most Rovokian women were easily as vicious as he, out for a handful of Mizas and nothing more.

"Who says it's a man?" she protested, hand perched atop her hip.

His eyes sketched over her, cleavage rising like fresh baked bread over lace ridges, and a corset drawn so her lips were parted and moist with her tortured breaths. He shook his head and locked his fingers along the bars. "A guess."

"Why don't you go find a seat then?" he added leaned against the iron center, a boot scraped over the fine layer of dust.

"Come now, Amatus, don't sulk. I doubt you even remember my name."

He shrugged, gazing over the crown. "Probably not."

The moment she turned to ascend the steps he slipped along the rounded path and edged himself in an altered route, up a different set of steps. There was no way he was going to waste a night with her, better to enjoy the sport alone. After all it was a headliner, a fight between Malfus the Blood, the ugly bastard, and some poor Kelvic slave. The night still had the potential to be interesting. If luck had its way he would run into this Nitrozian before that girl did.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Valerius Nitrozian had never had any interest in engaging in activities that led to bruises or broken bones himself, but he quite enjoyed watching strangers beat each other to a bloody pulp and had become a regular at the Pit since he had returned from his studies at the University of Zeltiva. Even though it didn't belong to his family anymore, he showed up every couple of days and watched the fights. Despite their inherent brutality they were quite entertaining, and the conversations with his fellow spectators were almost as good. He'd made a number of useful business contacts by just talking to the people next to him after the fight. Everybody who mattered in Ravok eventually found his or her way here to watch this utterly Ravokian form of entertainment. Unlike Amatus and his companion he didn't have to fight his way through the crowd. A slave walked in front of him, urging people to step aside for his master so that Valerius had more than enough room to move. The Nitrozian took a seat in one of the front rows. He preferred to be very close to the fighters so that he could hear and see everything. Unlike the majority of the spectators he didn't drink beer or ale - those drinks were much too ordinary for his taste - but had brought some fine wine with him. Instead of the meat and bread that the rest enjoyed or pretended to enjoy, he had a box of cookies that he had bought at Yae Varone's bakery. His taste in food was quite exquisite, and he was dressed elegantly, as if he were the king that Ravok had never had. While the slave opened the wine for him and did what he could to make sure that his master would be as comfortable as possible, Valerius let his gaze sweep across the people around him, wondering if there was anybody that was worth talking to. His watched Amatus as he ascended the steps and furrowed his brow, puzzled. Definitely pretty, maybe even beautiful, but he couldn't figure out whether he was looking at a man or a woman which irritated him. "Do you know who this is?" he whispered to his slave, but the man shook his head. "Unfortunately not, master, but I am certain that they do not belong to any of the Houses." Valerius nodded. He thought the same. A person with such looks, belonging to one of Ravok's most important families, would not go unnoticed. He cast another glance at Amatus, and then he abruptly pulled his gaze away and focused his attention on the pit in front of him, hoping that the fighters would show up soon. It was taking for too long for his taste.

[Amatus]

Amatus had found Valerius easily enough, as most would in a crowd of seeming serfs in comparison. A pop of cork from a select glass bottle had snatched his attention. He nearly stumbled up the steps as he passed and he ducked away to avoid an immediate clasping of their observations. Weaving a few paces farther, he settled along the edge of a full isle. From there he could spot the Nitrozian, the channel of his efficiently ironed collar. He inclined to a man next to him. "Excuse me," a bony finger aimed toward Valerius' finely combed locks, when he was sure the other man was following his pointed line. "Who is that?"

The man snorted as if his query was a sidesplitting pun. "Right, as if a Nitrozian could walk into the Pit unnoticed." he patted Amatus across the back and shook away his dying laugh, commending him on his humor.

He failed to indulge in a shared laugh, and scooted away from the stoolpigeon as quickly as he had scurried up the steps. He had yet to think it through, any way to naturally approach the man. His mind was set on his good fortune and the fact that he had indeed beat his would-be date to the object of her aspiration. The sweet taste of it coated his gums.

Valerius' slave stood between the isle and his seat, with open bottle in hand. A silent breath of his laugh steamed from his nostrils as he approached the back of the slave. He decisively stole in too close, his slim figure shadowed behind the servant. "Excuse me." he murmured as if simply trying to pass through. As the slave turned, he found Amatus' chest and a collision that would knock them both back enough to tip the tinted glass. Fountained maroon rivulets slopped across his silvery top, a bespatter that bloodied him from shoulder to navel in the stringent liquor.

Amatus stumbled back, looking over his falsely sullied garment with a well preformed sense of outrage. "Petch! It's not bad enough you can be so ham-fisted, but you squandered perfectly fine wine in staining my clothing." he reprimanded. He caught sight of Valerius from behind the panicking help gathering his composure. "I apologize for the trouble. I hope this is not your only company to keep." He daubed a handkerchief at the blotched fabric of his shirt with a disheartening chuckle. "I'd be compelled to offer myself for the night, to put my conscience at ease that such drink and company would not be wasted by such gauche hands." A sideways glance further scorned the faultless man at his side. He found no fault in treating slaves as tools, his methods only happened to be impromptu and imaginative.

"492, correct?" he glanced over the liquid churning in the crystal glass. He could smell it wafting from his fibers. "The wine’s year." he clarified. "Older than I and better-quality I'm sure." he smiled, locking eyes with the fine features of Valerius Nitrozian.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Valerius made a face as the slave spilled his precious wine and subsequently covered the androgynous looking creature he had been wondering about with it. It never once occured to him that Amatus might have done it on purpose, no, it was the slave’s fault. The man was too clumsy and too slow. He would need to be replaced. It would reflect badly on House Nitrozian if he were seen surrounding himself with such fools. „Go“, he ordered the slave who looked shocked and uncomfortable. „Get out of my sight, and pray to Rhysol that this …“ There was the hint of a pause. „… man doesn’t demand to see you punished.“ The slave didn’t say anything, but nearly ran, leaving the seat next to Valerius empty. Once the clumsy fool was gone, the Nitrozian turned to Amatus. „You didn’t cause any trouble. It was my slave’s fault. And I’m afraid he was my only company, at least for the duration of the fight. My dear sister despises such violent events, and our parents are too busy. If you really want to keep me company, it would be appreciated. I was already getting tired of the slave before he spilled my drink.“ He gestured towards the seat next to him. As Amatus guessed the wine’s year, he arched an eyebrow. „That is correct. It was an especially good year. Although whether it is really better quality than you remains to be seen. Not many people here would be able to tell a wine’s year exactly.“ He handed the glass to Amatus. „I will get a second glass for myself later on. But please tell me, is there anything else I can do to make up for my slave’s misbehaviour? Your clothes are probably ruined now.“

[Amatus]

"It would be my pleasure." Amatus accommodated himself upon the proposition, his spine tugged straight in assiduous posture. He had not missed the pause that alluded to his easily dismissed gender. It carved an arch through his porcelain jaw. He was well aware of his appearance, it never bothered him, and in fact he used it to his advantage when he could.

He smiled, accepting the glass with the promptness of its offer. "I can generally recognize exceptional effects." he explained. His hand cradled the crystal of the rounded base, fingers strung between the fragile stem, as he sloshed the maroon fluid about. It drew the aroma into the air between them and let the vibrant tint gleam as its swells dipped before the brim. "It's sort of a talent of mine." his glance lingered over Valerius, falling across his silk threads. He chuckled pleasantly as the glass drew near his lips. "Not a very impressive one mind you."

Pale lips tinged a darker shade as the wine rolled into his moist cavern with unhurried sips. His ankle thrown across his knee gave shape to the limber arrangement of shapely limbs. "Enjoying the match with good company is quite enough." He glanced down to his own staining shirt, a waft of air chilling his damp chest. “Attire is easy enough to replace, though I would have brought a jacket had I thought there was a possibility of such an-" Amatus paused, and shook his head in the disillusionment of his public appearance "accident."

Amatus followed the crowd with his watch "It's a shame you should have to come here alone." he began his eyes still casting between the metal bars. "My cousin is the same though, she can hardly stand to watch a nose bloodied of its own accord, much less attend a match." he tilted toward the noble. "I hardly see the harm." another pour passed whitened incisors and fell for his wrists to lie across the curve of his knee. "They're all animals, some more than others. Why shouldn't we enjoy what little they have to offer?"

A single chime rang, the signal the impending fight was a few sweaty inhales away, and for a long moment his sights remained steadied on the Nitrozian until coiling away and following the oncoming cheers. The pit was darkening. Lights centered the ring in a lavish spotlight of true showmanship. It would be a few minutes of announcements to come and then the first round would begin. He hardly acted as interested as most around, eager to see the appearance of the challenger. His interests fell elsewhere, in a way that still eluded him of its purpose. “I can get you a fresh glass if you like before the match begins.” He offered. “Unless you don’t mind sharing the glass you’ve offered me.” The glass rose as a languished offering from casual fingertips. He looked down upon his darkened reflection “Either option is fine by me. Neither would offend me, I assure you.”

[Valerius Nitrozian]

„Impressive enough“, Valerius disagreed. „You wouldn’t believe how many of the so called important people in this city can’t tell wine from vinegar.“ He watched Amatus closely as he drank from his glass. The man’s manners were exquisite, his movements graceful. He wouldn’t have been out of place at a ball, among all those self proclaimed nobles. Was he a native Ravokian? He seemed to be familiar enough with Rhysol’s city, but still, Valerius found it irritating that he could have missed such a person all the time. He prided himself on knowing everybody that mattered or could matter one day. „I will replace your clothes“, he insisted. „It’s the least I can do. And I’m glad that you consider my company good.“ Because you should, he added mentally. Despite the circumstances under which they had met, Valerius was well aware how beneficial it could be for anybody to be seen in a Nitrozian’s company. Without a doubt some of the people here were already looking at them while they were waiting for the fight to begin. „Your cousin and my sister could keep each other company while we watch the fight“, he suggested with a small smile. „They sound as if they would get along well. As for animals, the real animals are in my aunt’s care, but I agree, why shouldn’t we enjoy what they have to offer?“ As he heard the chime, he pulled his gaze away from Amatus for the briefest of moments and looked at the pit, but the fighters still were nowhere to be seen. He turned to the androgynous creature next to him again who was much more interesting than the announcements that were being made, at least for the time being. „Let us share then“, he decided. „I don’t want you to play the part of a servant right now. I’m fairly tired of servants and slaves.“

[Amatus]

A whirr of humming amusement tickled in his gorge. He was sure Valerius was free to have many play any role he pleased, by eminence or by charm, it was still undecided. Amatus was not beneath bending, twirling himself into an encompassing corkscrew, an inclination of any proper serpent. His intentions were not always so poisonous. He craved no ill-treatment upon the noble. He would have risen to procure a new wineglass with as effortless a whim as he had seated himself in his company. Consumer service was not so very altered a competition than what most expected to enact with one another.

"Let's." he returned a rounded smile. His elbow sloped along the armrest that was fashioning the obstruction of their somatic separation. The glinting crystal teetered on his clinging fingertips toward the other until it was accepted with a final tremor of tart burgundy. “Feasibly there is another role I may be in accordance with. Events such as this merit approved guests, not the timorous and dull care of vassalage alone. I'm sure your sister and my cousin could certainly entertain themselves enough in some shared company of their own. At least long enough to keep ourselves contented, and away from uninvited skirmish by selection of event." his nails curled around the nape of his neck, dragging fair whitened cords over his shoulder, his neck craning in time to watch the opposing contender enter the ring to an onslaught of applaud and hecklings.

The curious bearing of the man in the iron bordered hoop held his arctic rings. In every way he wore the flesh suit of a textbook human, but his bottoms dragged along the floor, tossing up billows of soil as he went. His toes were crimping into the dirt, arms suspended rigidly at his side, fingers flexed, so with each step his bare back rippled with protruding shoulder blades. His lips curled around a fawn mane bearing massive canines. Amatus' finger rested along his temple as he scrutinized the pacing beast in subtle fascination. "I suppose this would be some kind of feline Kelvic." He easily pivoted toward Valerius again with a lopsided grin. “A male lion, perhaps?” he merely guessed as conversation easily sustained. "You said your aunt works with them, the Kelvics? Are you reasonably conversant on the subject as well? What do you suppose of the newest challenger?"

“They are quite thought-provoking by simple definition, the simple idea of them alone as a species.” His fingers caressed smooth flat laying tresses as he absently spoke. “I find them rather piteous. Their purpose is only to be what man would want them to be. They are damned beings that are no more human than the average mongrel, but were suddenly granted operational thumbs and the gift of language.” His head shook with a chuckle, whatever gravity of his topics was always absent in the tender tenor he spoke them with. It was rather challenging to offend on any subject with such a tendency, one well practiced. “It’s astounding to see them cavorting about, believing they can blend into society unnoticed, or that they would be treated as equals with any civil liberties at all.”


OOCI apologize for the awful wait, I was out of town

[Valerius Nitrozian]

„Thank you.“ Valerius accepted the offered glass with the hint of a smile and the nod of his head. Truth to be told, had the person next to him been a little less interesting, a little less fascinating, a little more like that madwoman Tock he had once met he would rather have died than shared, but as it was he could live with that small inconvenience. He wanted to find out more about Amatus. „We should really introduce our female relatives to each other“, he decided after he had taken a sip. „Do you know what my dear sister’s favourite pastime is? Mathematics!“ His sister was an accountant for the Nitrozian family. She was dull, unattractive and old-fashioned – and she thought that there was something wrong with him! Why, she had even sent him to a so called psychiatrist recently! „Ah, but I see that the first fighter has arrived“, he remarked. The man that had entered the ring looked more like a beast, dirty, half naked, with unkempt hair and huge teeth. Valerius frowned slightly. He enjoyed studying Kelvic, but in a fight he preferred humans. Those creatures just lacked finesse. „I agree, this is most likely a lion Kelvic. Kelvic sometimes have animalistic features even in their human form, and this man definitely looks like a lion. And yes, my aunt works with such creatures. She is the head researcher of the Kelvic Research Institute.“ He said that with no small amount of pride even though his aunt and he had had their disagreements. „As for what I think of him …“ Another light frown as he studied the creature in the ring. „Kelvic tend to be rather straightforward in a fight, brute strength, but no complicated tactics. I hope they’ll at least allow him to shift, otherwise it will be boring.“ He turned to Amatus again. „Nobody treats them as equals in Ravok. Here we use them the way they are meant to be used. It’s good to meet a man who shares me views.“ „May I ask you who I’m talking to?“

[Amatus]

The boney apex of Amatus' chin rocked in the support of his palms. His fingers dribbled soundlessly across his mouth’s pricked moistened fringe, bringing the rivets of affiliated tendons rippling to his marbled exterior. He drowned in the droll of their unremitting chat, the backdrop of clomping riding boot and gruff growls, best described as beastly, seemed inappropriate for the finely primed man at his side. His flicking glances were divided evenly throughout the ring and to his acquaintance's side through the sideward pleat of shielding platinum threads. He wandered across many inner inquiries: The age of this suitor, the price tag that once hung from the crisp trims of his dressings and by what means his amusements could be borrowed. The bitter taste in his mouth washed clean the longer he sought to gain his answers. Patience it seemed was a fortune he was well designed to handle.

"Really?" he mused with arching brows. "You have family that works at the Kelvic Research Institute?" He straightened in his seat, an eyeful of Valerius he had been denying himself reflected in his dilated pupils. "I can't say I've found one that is as entertaining as some claim them to be." a sigh swept him back toward the rigid wooden back of his seat. "It's a shame really. I do enjoy 'entertaining company'." his tongue scrapped its raw edges across the turnings of grinding molars. His objectives were lazily masked. A Kelvic, the bartender had decided, would make a curious plaything, one worth at least a night’s undertaking. For what more they could such beings really be utilized for? Lingering unclean thoughts roused in less active regions of thought, causing him to draw in a lofty wedge of lip between razor edges without becoming conscious of the deed. Though his heart hardly lingered a moment longer on the impoverished gain of such an endeavor. Instead he narrowed upon Valerius. A smile crept over the damp wine tinged leaflets of his lip and a roar of cheers, as if egging on their exchange, rung in his ears and widened the edges of his mouth.

His stare was impervious to the exhilaration, though the ping of vibrating metal rods and a disgruntled whimper gave up enough clues to the transpiring that seemed miles below them. "My apologies, I was so taken I forgot to introduce myself." His stance swiveled so his leg overlapped his knee and pivoted his front toward the other. "I am Amatus De Gauther." The syllables flowed with practiced grace, and his eyes crinkled in a generous smile. "A pleasure to meet you-" he paused his fingers buckling the armrest in the middle of them as he waited for the returned courtesy of an introduction.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

„My aunt doesn’t just work at the Kelvic Research Institute“, Valerius corrected Amatus. He rather enjoyed the man’s company and his interest in the things he said, no matter whether said interest was fake or genuine. It provided a strange contrast to the primitive creature in the ring in front of them. „She more or less owns the place. Nothing would function without her. The things she has done have even attracted Rhysol’s attention.“ That was not entirely true. Amanda Nitrozian did bear Rhysol’s mark, but Valerius had no idea whether that was because of her work with Kelvic or whether she had done something else for their god. He felt like bragging about his family to this platinum haired stranger though. There was just something about him that made him feel slightly sociable … “No, the creatures aren’t as entertaining as people sometimes claim”, he agreed and took another sip from his wine before he handed the glass to Amatus, to share it with him as they had decided. “They are simple minded and not particularly appealing, but at the same time their ability to change forms within the matter of seconds is fascinating.” “I mean to research that ability and find out if it can be controlled”, he remarked, but he didn’t elaborate on his plans. This was hardly the right time or place for a scientific discussions. “Define ‘entertaining company’ though. What does somebody like you find entertaining – besides watching people hit each other until one of them is either dead or unconscious?” He gestured towards the ring. Unlike the rest of the spectators Valerius didn’t cheer for the fighters. In his opinion such behaviour didn’t have style. He just clapped his hands and smiled briefly before he focused his attention on Amatus again, furrowing his brow slightly as he did so. “De Gauther”, he repeated. “I’ve never heard of your family. What do they do? As for myself, I’m Valerius, Valerius Nitrozian, and I’m pleased to make your acquaintance as well.”