Snide and Prejudice (Duvalyon)

by **Navisya Curare** on October 16th, 2012, 3:36 am

"Oh—" He drew her in again and Navisya's heart began to race, but she didn't try to shrug him off as he led her through the crowd. Of course, she had hoped tonight would be at least little interesting, but she hadn't expected Duvalyon to be so forward.

Rather, she hadn't expected Duvalyon at all. She still remembered him from lessons when they were children. Never would she have guessed their paths would converge again in this way. He was so different now. A physician, an uncle, and evidently when he chose to be, a gentleman. He was grown.

"Sibea" again. She tried not blush this time.

Navisya graciously accepted her drink from Duvalyon, passing him a polite thankyou. When he sat beside her, she realized the space was a little more enclosed than she had expected. It kept her nervous, but she didn't mind. Her personal space was in danger, but the aggressor presumably had good intentions. Again, it was an exciting brand of vulnerability.

Asked personal questions about his family and travels, Duvalyon deflected both gracefully. There was a certain, uneasy hesitance in mentioning other cities; some of them must have been trips for the Harvest. Navisya glanced downward, sipping at her drink as she suffered a mild pang of guilt. Although she had a deep respect for firstborns, given the duty of preserving the race, she had to remember that they carried the weight of dark memories. In many ways, they were like veterans of a silent war.

She made an internal note to be more careful about what she asked.

It struck a chord in her when Duvalyon mentioned relief at finally returning home. It was news to her that he had gone to Lhavit, where her nephew's birth-mother had been from. Though she didn't exactly keep tabs on the Hellebores, she did feel a bit ignorant for being uninformed.

"I will drink to that." She did, and then sipped her drink again when Duvalyon expressed surprise at Navisya's own profession. Of course Kelswyn had grazed over that bit. Navisya had been afraid of that, the likelihood that her elder sister speak of her like a dainty glass sculpture.

Navisya did think of herself as a glass sculpture in many ways—just one who knew how to shoot. "I suppose I like it. I consider it more of a duty. It's a family tradition. Even the name Curare refers to a poison once used for tipping arrows. Paralytic, less virulent than venom."

She cleared her throat. Just as Duvalyon had likely decided, it might be best to steer the conversation from the topic of killing.

"My father had no sons, so I took up a bow." She leaned back in the nook, cradling her drink delicately in both hands. She glanced at Duvalyon's face again, reminding herself who she was talking to. She could still remember his eyes from the Purging, down-turned and rimmed with dark circles. She was the focus of their attention now—positive attention—and found this to be pleasant. "We usually go in a party, with my father, his brother, and my cousin. They do most of the dirty work. I tend to stay in the trees."

Navisya cast her eyes away modestly, not wanting to stare too long at the man. She caught Aessila's eyes on the far side of the room and suddenly grinned. Her little sister waved to her excitedly, but someone clutched her hand and yanked it down. It was Kelswyn, her tall form mostly hidden behind her husband. The hunter laughed and tightened her grip on the glass.

"Ah." She momentarily lost her place. "Father says that hunting is good for catharsis and getting in touch with ancestral roots. Really though my favorite part about it is just the way the air smells. And the rain."

She was strange, wasn't she? Navisya felt a portion of her confidence drain away. "Where were you in Eyktol? I did my Gleaning in Ahnatep. Brought home a fascinating human—a fugitive scholar from the Ravokian aristocracy, if what he says is true. For now though he's a fabulous dogsitter."

Even if Duvalyon's trips abroad had likely been for darker reasons, Navisya refused to believe they had been entirely unpleasant. She had heard too many stories from her mother and from Kelswyn about odd foreign customs, the pains of travel by ship, and clever tricks of stealth and charisma to deflect racial prejudice. "Did you ever hear about the Symenestra there who calls himself the Golden Spider? Odd sounding fellow, but though I was curious I never did meet him."

by **Duvalyon Hellebore** on October 16th, 2012, 7:10 am

Duvalyon's burgundy eyes rested on Navisya with quiet attention. He let her tell her stories without interruption. When he felt the situation warranted it, the medic could be easy company. There was something in him that resembled paternal patience. It was difficult for him to curb judgment in any scenario, but nothing in their vignette provoked his usual biting commentary.

"My time in Eyktol was spent mostly in the Burning Lands with Benshira. I didn't get to enjoy the pomp of Ahnatep. I managed to get a tent to tolerate me for a time and traveled with them."
Duvalyon looked across the room at Navisya's siblings who were now attempting to be discrete after the initial outburst. A bit late for that. Duvalyon lifted his cup toward them with a wry but polite smile.
"I think your friend is about to explode with inner conflict," he said sidelong, "She doesn't know whether to acknowledge or ignore me."
He lowered his cup to take a drink then said, "I'd like to meet your prize. A little more hospitality never hurt the cause." Suspecting a particular reaction, he gave a rakish look, "I'll be on good behavior with the Azo. I'm capable of it. I swear."
He allowed another span of silence, no stranger to the element. In the small space, even quiet had an intimate air to it.
"My father took me to the Purging instead of the mountains as a child. Our family profession. It required a certain amount of cunning and stubbornness to join my cousin in trips above Kalinor."
A sudden idea of being taken on a hunt by her then shown to be mildly incompetent made his intestines recoil violently. If this was going to go anywhere, he'd have to learn something apart from how to gut an animal, and quickly.
Duvalyon tried to drown this humiliating thought, only to find a single draught left. He smirked at the empty cup and leaned over his knees in a suddenly casual posture.
"Well, Sibeasya. That was one drink. How did I do?"

by **Navisya Curare** on October 17th, 2012, 8:40 pm

Across the way, Navisya heard Aessila's embarrassed laugh when Duvalyon tilted his cup toward her. Navisya herself let out a surprised chuckle, quickly lifting one hand to her mouth. Her face felt warm again, so she glanced away from Duvalyon, her other hand tangling its fingers in her free lock of white.

Her golden eyes lifted curiously when Duvalyon suggesting meeting her human. The initial reaction was astonishment, but it dimmed to thoughtfulness. It would provide a good setting for spending another evening with Duvalyon, if the prospect became enticing to both of them. Vhast would provide a good buffer between them as well, and made excellent conversation fodder.

His utility for Navisya was broadening—she hadn't expected him to become so convenient.

Finally smiling, she nodded. "I believe you. And that might even be a good idea. He's very curious about our society, but I worry what he'll come to think of us if I'm the sole representative of Kalinor to him. My aptitude for diplomacy is not always shining." Her smile grew a little sharper as she looked down. "As I'm sure you remember."

Duvalyon would have had more experience as an ambassador for the Symenestra. Perhaps he would better know what to say to Vhast to appease his curiosity and put rest to difficult questions. Even Navisya was aware that her own judgment was not always the best in every given situation, but she hardly ever trusted anyone else's.

Kelswyn had touted Duvalyon as "reliable", and Navisya liked the idea of being able to ask someone else advice without being skeptical. He mentioned being cunning, and she tipped her head toward him in good-humored recognition, casually impressed. Somewhere in her thoughts, Navisya felt the first hints of genuine personal interest take root. It wasn't just the drinks and the dancing anymore.

Navisya turned to check on her sisters out of wary curiosity, and found Kelswyn herding Aessila somewhere deeper into the back. She smirked, lifting an eyebrow.

"That's my younger sister, Aessila," Navisya clarified in response. She took a drink, using the brief moment to go over what information she was comfortable revealing about the energetic teenager. There were some very remarkable traits about her, but only a few weren't immediately off-putting or disrespectful. "She's… she's a handful. Precocious, but opinionated. You may want to keep your distance. She'll talk until you're deaf."

She turned her head when Duvalyon finished his drink and then asked her for her assessment. For a moment , her heart fluttered and she was speechless, but she tried to mask it in nonchalant deliberation. She tilted her head cattily to one side, hoping the pluck the right words from the air.

They didn't come, and she laughed in spite of herself, looking down at her glass. She traced around its rim with one nail. "Well, I must say I'm impressed, Dovna Hellebore. And I'd rather like a refill. That is, if you don't still want to forget this ever happened."

by **Duvalyon Hellebore** on October 21st, 2012, 7:38 pm

Duvalyon 's gratified look was the only answer he gave. Though genuine, it felt like a rare expression for him.
The medic straightened out of his casual posture and stood. Mindful of courtesy, he offered an unnecessary hand to help her to her feet. No one said gallantry was useful, just complimentary to its object.
"I have to make the rounds. Can I bring you with me?"

It was a little soon to start showing her off, but Duvalyon didn't have many opportunities to be seen. If something would help shut his family up, he'd do it twice and quickly.
Duvalyon scanned the room, making sure they wouldn’t run into anyone who worked at the Purging on their path to his friends. His bedside manner left something to be desired and he knew a few would leap at the chance to embarrass him. With a woman beside him to impress, he was vulnerable and they knew it. Mounting an internal defense, he reasoned he wasn't at the Purging to make small talk. It was distracting and detracted from the real purpose of his presence: making Symenestra well.

Choosing the safest route, Duvalyon began to weave through the busy crowd. Aessila was so slight, he almost ran over her when she crossed his path. Evidently she had broken free of the other sister. This was the "opinionated" one. Something warned him to not make eye contact and press on.

by **Navisya Curare** on October 22nd, 2012, 9:21 am

"Of course." Navisya slipped her hand into Duvalyon's and rose up next to him. As he began to lead her through the dining and conversations, she neatly hooked her hand in Duvalyon's arm without noticeable reluctance. The taste of her sweet flavored drink lingered pleasantly on her tongue, mingling with a burgeoning sense of proud satisfaction in his company. Despite the earlier friction, he was proving to be an absolute gentleman.

And she rather liked being a lady on display at the side of an accomplished physician.

Together they were an interesting pair. Duvalyon was tall and dark, carrying a shadow in his burgundy eyes that was as intimidating as it was captivating. Waves of his loose black hair framed his face pleasingly, enhancing his air of mystery. Navisya on the other hand was willowy by comparison, the curves of her thin neck and narrow shoulders tastefully on display. Her vibrant dress, amber colored eyes, and pale hair gave her a much lighter appeal. They had the essence of balance, or contrast, depending on who was looking.

Aessila appeared with the grace and subtlety of a feline on the prowl. After an initial moment of surprise, Navisya regarded her younger sister with a carefully placed smile.

"Good evening, you two. You look like you're having fun." The delicate young woman looked between them with too much interest welling in her large eyes, hinting at an ulterior motive. A ploy for attention, probably. This was Navisya's night, and the younger Curare often struggled with envy when the spotlight was removed from her.

"We are," Navisya replied with a curt nod and a glance to the man at her side. "Where is Kelswyn?"

"Talking to Reverin's mother." That explained it. Kelswyn's garrulous mother-in-law could trap an unsuspecting victim like the horizon pulling in the sun. Aessila put her hands together, smiling politely at Duvalyon. "So, you're Duvalyon Hellebore?"

Navisya barely succeeded in suppressing an open glare. She had known.

"You work at the Place of Purging."

"Aessila." This was going nowhere good.

"I remember you from when Father hurt his knee. He's doing better, thanks to you." She smiled graciously. Navisya shook her head at Aessila. Evidenced by the gleam in her eye, the hunter could see exactly where this was going. This was not the time nor the place to be asking about the Purging, or anything related. Did she really lack this much decency? "It can't be easy, doing what you do."

by **Duvalyon Hellebore** on October 25th, 2012, 12:06 am

When Navisya slipped her fine-fingered hand under his arm, Duvalyon dampened his surprise. This was what was supposed to happen, was it not? Then why did he feel this strange sense of grace being afforded to him? It gave him motivation to tolerate the sister in front of him.

Duvalyon nodded when his name was spoken and bore the compliment regarding their father with a fraction of happy pride. Navisya could feel him straighten a little beside her. Aessila's mild praise did not alert his state of mind to what might follow. His cynicism was robust on any other day, but he had been lulled by the way a gown fell from shoulders and the perfume that rose from silvery hair. In retrospect, he might swear to never be so pleased with himself he forgot his lash.

"The hours can be strange, but I am proud of my work..."
Duvlayon thought he had responded to the comment, but the tone of Navisya's voice implied he had missed the direction of Aessila'a conversation. He trailed off. For the first time in a very long while, he was a little uncertain as to what would be the most appropriate reply.
This was Navisya's sister, and if their relationship was anything like his and Melia's, it was imperative he earn her good opinion.
"Are you interested in the medic profession?"

by **Navisya Curare** on October 25th, 2012, 5:58 pm

"Me? Oh, never. I wouldn't have the heart." Lying in wait beneath the light, innocent features of Aessila's young face was a quick, ruthless mind. She could have the sweetest smile and the most daft look in her pretty eyes, but like every Curare, she was sharp and calculating beneath her veneer. A born predator who lived for the hunt.

Beating down a sense of panic, Navisya never thought her little sister would stoop this low at a dinner party, interrupting the precarious tryst that Kelswyn had gone out of her way to set up for her benefit, just to vindicate her selfish agenda and juvenile ideals. Aessila was too old for these stunts.

This could still be avoided. Navisya tugged gently on Duvalyon's arm, trying to coax him away. "Weren't we going to meet with your friends, Versda?"

"It takes a special kind of person, I think, to look at the faces of those women every day and feel nothing." There it was. Aessila had unsheathed her claws. Her older sister stared at her, dumbfounded, then sighed and buried her face in her free hand. No wonder Aessila had kept quiet. She wanted a chance at Duvalyon's ear.

"Aessila!" Navisya hissed.

"Not sure how someone like that could end up at the end of my sister's arm, but there you have it." She scoffed, crossing her arms.

It took a great deal of restraint for Navisya to keep herself from slapping her younger sister on the spot, or at least snatching up her arm to properly yell at her. Instead, she tightened her hold on Duvalyon's arm. "Aessila, stop this at once! This is not dinner conversation. You are being extremely rude."

"It's not any sort of conversation, Sya!" Aessila raised her voice enough to turn someone's head nearby. Navisya futilely gestured and smiled nervously in a feeble attempt to dissuade the onlooker. "No one ever talks about it, but we're all thinking about it. Or we avoid thinking about it, but murder by any other name is still vile." She turned her attention back to Duvalyon. "You know, I've heard they even have names for you. Your father too. Those poor women, they're more afraid of the Hellebores than anyone. Why is that, Duvalyon?"

by **Duvalyon Hellebore** on November 8th, 2012, 8:56 am

This was not what he had hoped for tonight. Duvalyon colored with offense then paled at the edges with fury, as he listened to the voice of one of his bitter surrogates in the once welcome vessel in front of him. He had been warned, but he had underestimated the scope of Navisya's caution.
Duvalyon managed to be wise and say nothing for a time, but each phrase built upon the other until the insult was monstrous. His jaw was clenched to keep the anger in his gut-- until the girl turned over truths he'd prefer dormant. Shyke-eater, petcher, vagik, he never stopped when surrogates brandished the usual assortment, but he remembered the first time he heard the one name made especially for him, and it infuriated him that this girl knew it.
Navisya's pleading voice and insistent tugs could have been a gnat's flap for all it influenced the medic. They were about to know just why the surrogates hated him.
"Because I'm good at what I do, Dra. All that I do." It was a calm answer, more unnerving than the signs of feeling he had briefly betrayed.
"You live and breathe because of people like me. If you're so moved, you can die on the table instead."
He gave a quick harsh laugh, "Or that's just something you want others to do for the race? Like your elder sister?" Duvalyon tilted his head to indicate Navisya.
Mock curiosity brought a slight animation to his cool derision. "Is it the nieces and nephews you didn't want? Our race as a whole? Enlighten me, Dra." Duvalyon's expression transmuted to metal, "Because it looks to me like you haven't made one difficult decision in your entire life save what dress to wear."

by **Navisya Curare** on November 8th, 2012, 9:20 am

"Stop this, both of you." Navisya detached herself from Duvalyon's side and made an effort to step in between them. She placed a slender hand on Aessila's shoulder, trying to pull her away from this battle before it got worse.

Usually the peacemaker between two wildly different sisters, this was a familiar motion, marked by familiar words, but Duvalyon was filling in the role of Kelswyn. The trouble was, Navisya knew the spectrum of her elder sister's arsenal of angry retorts. She did not know how far this man would go.

"Dra? That's cute, Dovna." Aessila assumed a venomous, arrogant smile, designed to provoke indignance. Her usual front when clashing with Kelswyn, one that veiled the hurt, fear, and the insecurity that ate at her insides. Navisya was familiar with that expression, as well as the tears that would follow afterward. "Firstly, I don't care who you are. Don't you dare presume to know a petching thing about me or my life."

"Bittala!" Oh, now she was swearing.

"Second, I will have children and I will die on your damn table—"

Navisya sighed, but no one heard her. "No you won't, Aessila." She was spoken over.

"—because we're so busy kidnapping and murdering, no one is even trying to come up with an antidote for our venom to stop mothers dying." Aessila pointed a claw at Duvalyon. "It's people like you who make the outside world hate us. You know what? We deserve that. Every last drop. We're are evil. That's what our race is now. Corrupted."

"You're talking about our mother!" Navisya squeezed Aessila's shoulder viciously. "Kelswyn too. Duvalyon—" She turned to the medic. Briefly she thought about taking his arm again, but worried he'd rip away and turn his frustration toward her. "Just walk away. Please."

"Yes, Duv. Why don't you just leave?"

by **Duvalyon Hellebore** on November 8th, 2012, 9:31 am

Navisya inserted her body between them, jarring Duvalyon from a fog of temper. The purpose of the evening was not to correct a child, but to seduce a woman, he reminded himself. His pride and his desire were grinding their horns against another. For now, desire was winning.
The medic managed to keep his jaw clenched despite the buffeting waves of stupidity that rolled from Aessila. The protective moat Navisya was trying to create with her body was not wide enough for her sister's final volley though. This sheltered, pampered product of death and wretchedness was wishing damnation on the blood. Duvalyon opened his mouth to break her, but Navisya's plea beat him to it.

"Please."

She was begging him to let it lie, to see Aessila's ignorance for just that. Duvalyon aggressively reclaimed Navisya's hand and turned away from the whelp. Aessila's final taunt was to his back, and it had precisely the effect she had hoped. Duvalyon slowed his retreat and calmly faced her again. His voice lacked the fury she would hope. It was mild and almost didactic, summoning more of the medic than the young man.
"If you want a cure for venom, give me volunteers to experiment on. I'll need more than one. You? Your daughter?" There was a terrible pause for her to digest the cruel honesty in his proposition. When Aessila failed to muster even a look of embarrassment, he told her precisely what he thought in the same, steady tone.
"You shame your mother's memory and the sacrifices made to make you whole."