Closed Come Into My Parlor

Yvaleth receives a visit from his neighbor, Ennisa.

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

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Come Into My Parlor

Postby Yvaleth on November 3rd, 2019, 3:34 am

31st of Fall, 519AV
The burning hearth threw a sinister shadow upon the far wall. A spindly Symenestra crouched into a predatory pose near the corner, his claws searching the floor before him. His violet eyes glimmered eagerly in the low light of the evening, fixed on the spot in front of him. His prey had eluded him thus far, but he would emerge the victor in this duel of wits.

There was a bloody rat in here.

His claws brushed over what he was searching for: tiny, compact droppings scattered over the floor along the wall. This was unnervingly close to his larder. Yvaleth drew his hand up and cautiously sniffed at his claws.

Immediately he scowled and forcefully exhaled the odor from his nostrils and wiped off his claws. Vile.

By far, this was the worst element of living on the surface. Vermin were everywhere. Mice, rats, diseased cats, flea-laden birds, and various insects infested every ground level dwelling, regardless of what part of the world he visited.

The surface world was filthy. Kalinor didn't have any godsdamned rats. Bats, occasionally, but they mostly kept to themselves. They settled in the unpopulated parts of the caverns. Most importantly: they didn't raid larders.

In a smooth motion, the Symenestra drew up to his feet. His long shadow, now splashed across the ceiling, shrank as it followed him to a cabinet of supplies. Yvaleth wrapped a length of string around his fingers, which would serve as part of a simple snare. He needed something to act as the trigger, and something to provide the snapping mechanism for the trap.

Yvaleth stared at his mostly empty cabinet, waiting for something to leap out at him and volunteer. Several moments passed uneventfully. He frowned deeply.

Knock. Knock-knock-knock.

The Symenestra was stirred out of his thoughts. He turned to look over his shoulder at the door, feeling his hackles raise. A visitor? This couldn’t be promising. Yvaleth had gone through great pains to square everything away with the city’s clerks about his residency. Nothing could be waiting on the other side of that door except one more headache.

Pocketing the string, Yvaleth shut the cabinet and moved noiselessly to the door. Although he reached for the latch, he hesitated. It wasn’t until his unexpected guest knocked one more time that he finally pulled the door open.

There stood a young girl. Yvaleth felt his pupils widen with interest. The rest of him froze in confusion. He remembered her from the Cosmos Center, and he’d seen her within the vicinity of the Solar Winds more than once. The Symenestra had made it a point to avoid interacting with her. His sort were typically not trusted around young women. For some reason.

Yet here she had appeared. She was pleasing to the eye. Pale, wispy hair. Fair skin. A healthy height. Guileless, blue eyes. Perfect prey.

After taking in the sight of her, Yvaleth looked beyond her to one side, then the other. Was this a trap? Were the Shinya testing him? His stern, violet eyes settled on her again. He remained quiet. She would explain herself before he had anything to say to her. This was the last thing he expected.

He was unencumbered by his usual form-obscuring cloak. The Symenestra was in full, lanky form. The girl seemed unbothered.

“Sorry to bother you, but do you have a spare flint?” the girl asked meekly. “It’s getting chilly and I can’t get my hearth started.”*

Yvaleth stood in place for a beat longer. Finally, he stepped aside and swept an arm out to invite the girl into his parlor. A bad idea perhaps. It would have been safest to turn her away. He wasn’t certain whether it was curiosity or loneliness that overrode his better judgement.

“Sure.” He cast one more look beyond the girl’s slender frame, searching for spying eyes. He found none. “Please, have a seat while I look.”


*Placeholder :
This dialogue is subject to change; Ennisa wished to be surprised as to the purpose of her visit.
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Come Into My Parlor

Postby Ennisa on November 4th, 2019, 4:21 pm

31st Autumn 519 AV
"speech"
"others"


"I wonder who he is..." Ennisa grinned at her friend conspiratorially, and nabbed a portion of corn from the plate they were sharing. "I wonder indeed. You saw him the other day, right Itz?" The red-headed woman nodded thoughtfully. "I heard one of those tiresome woman living downstairs complaining. She said something about him being untrustworthy. I wonder why?" Itzi laid back on the bed and sighed as she closed her eyes. "Maybe we should go and introduce ourselves. He is our neighbour now, after all."

Ennisa shrugged, nibbled the now stone-cold corn, and brightened. "I dare you to go and ask him round here. It'd be fun, to get a stranger round. We haven't done that before." She looked over at her friend, playfully devilish, but Itzi's eyes were closed. Ennisa slumped a little, but then the resting woman said, "I dare you to ask him. I dare you to go over and get yourself invited in. You love being nosy, after all."

This was true. Ennisa grinned, mused for a moment, and then agreed. "I accept that dare. Though you'll get help if he does turn out to be untrustworthy, like the gossip says, right?" At this, Itzi opened her eyes and smiled reassuringly. "Of course." She lay back down again, clearly exhausted. This worried Ennisa. Itzi had been getting more and more tired lately, for no particular reason. She was just glad that they had been able to spend some time together, for Itzi hadn't been home for the past three days.

She hadn't asked why, and Itzi hadn't ventured an explanation. Happy as she was that they were up to their usual fun and games, she decided to set aside any interrogation for a later date, and instead follow up on the light-hearted dare. Besides, Ennisa was intrigued about their new neighbour just as much as the gossiping, ear-ache causing ladies that lived downstairs. She rolled off the bed, wriggled her toes into her boots, and conjured up an excuse to have a nose.

"See you in a bit, Itzi." The red-head mmhm'ed softly, and Ennisa left the apartment to knock on the door of their neighbour. Rat-tat-tat. She waited in the quiet corridor and hoped that there was someone in. Her excuse for the visit would be to borrow a flint for the hearth. Not that she really needed such a thing, as her own was somewhere at the bottom of her backpack, but she could safely pretend that was something she needed.

When the door was answered, she gazed at the figure in front of her, and kept her face as carefully still as possible. Ennisa, who hadn't paid much attention to class when she was younger, had a vague recollection that a person that looked like this was dangerous, somehow or other. She couldn't place the reason, though, so she ventured ahead with her vague spiel about needing a flint for the fire.

They stood there quietly for a moment. The long-limbed man seemed to be evaluating her, or perhaps the situation. She waited patiently, wondering what kind of being he was. Certainly not a human, but not an Ethaefal, who were the only other strange-looking race she could think of. Syn... Sim... Synes? What was his race? Gods, that would irk her until she found out. She stepped in at his invitation and smiled as charmingly as she could in his direction.

"Thank you." She sat on the chair he indicated and looked around his room. It was, unsurprisingly, relatively similar to her own. His fire was already lit, and the shapes of the shadows flickered against the walls. As he searched for the flint, and as she had already completed the dare, she decided she would find out a little more about the man, now that she was here. "Sooo..." She tailed off, and restarted. "Have you travelled from very far away? My name's Ennisa, by the way. I live next to you with my friend, Itzi. You're obviously not from around here anyway, not with those..." Nails? Claws? Limbs? "... Fingers!" She laughed, a little nervously, but mostly because she was making a fool of herself. She let her questions float in the air, and wondered if it was a little too much to be asking on their first encounter.

Too late now.

WC : 722

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Come Into My Parlor

Postby Yvaleth on November 5th, 2019, 7:17 am

The door latched, and for the first time since he'd taken that Zeltivan girl as his captive, Yvaleth found himself alone in a room with a woman.

“Please, pardon the mess,” he murmured while she took her seat. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

In truth, the apartment was almost barren except for the furniture that was included with every apartment. There was almost no trace of a person living here. There was no hanging art, no throw rugs, forgotten dishes, houseplants, or any indication that Yvaleth possessed a personality of any sort. The only thing that might pass for a “mess” was his cloak draped over the arm of one of his chairs.

There was one item. A coiled whip hung from a hook near the door. Decorative? Functional? It was anyone’s guess.

Finished studying the back of the girl’s head, Yvaleth moved to cross the room. His race moved in a bizarre, tip-toed sort of way. His footsteps made scarcely a sound as he glided over to his cabinet, as if he merely chose to obey gravity and could have flown there instead. The cabinet door creaked open, and delicately Yvaleth bent to search inside.

The air felt thick, he thought. Unnatural. Why was this girl so at ease around him? Something in Yvaleth felt coiled and tense. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this girl was the precursor to an ambush.

But gods, he was so hungry for company.

“Yvaleth,” the Symenestra replied to the girl’s, Ennisa’s, polite attempt at conversation. She was tense too. For a number of reasons, this seemed to put Yvaleth at ease. “My friends call me Val.”

There was a mention of a friend, ‘Itzi’. So Ennisa had an alibi. Smart.

Yvaleth straightened, spare flint in hand, as he considered her other question. Judging by the vague nature of her interrogation, she was unfamiliar with the Symenestra. Well, he wouldn’t be quick to educate her. Kalinor was not worth a mention. Few surfaceborn creatures knew it existed, let alone where it was. Yvaleth was feeling evasive, which was perhaps rude, but an honest answer wouldn’t have helped Ennisa anyway.

At the mention of—he smirked privately—fingers, he lifted one arm to admire the shine of his claws.

“I’m from the south.” Yvaleth’s violet eyes flitted sideways. “May I offer you something? A drink?”

In a moment, the Symenestra produced two clay cups and a bottle of dark red. The wax seal upon the bottle was a Lhavitian crest. He’d bought this recently. After pouring a modest portion in each cup, he left the bottle uncorked, and then brought Ennisa her cup. With one hand, he set both the cup and the requested flint on the table near her chair.

“Please do not take this the wrong way,” Yvaleth eased into his chair, holding his cup between both hands, “but you don’t seem terribly put off by the company of a Symenestra. Are you not worried I’ll gobble you up?”

Yvaleth felt his eyes drawn to the circumference of Ennisa’s wrists. The string in his pocket could neatly wrap around them both, up to the elbow. She would be most disabled if the limbs were bound behind her back, limiting further movement of her arms at the shoulder.

He sipped at his cup.

“I am pleased to meet you, Neighbor Ennisa,” he continued in silken tones. “Though I must admit, I am surprised to receive a visitor. Are you and your friend from abroad as well?”
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Come Into My Parlor

Postby Ennisa on November 6th, 2019, 11:01 pm

Date
"speech"
"others"


As Ennisa entered the room more fully, she used the opportunity to stare at the man's apartment. Though the furniture and layout was roughly similar to her own room, the lack of any things gave the air a cold and impersonal feel. She snorted quietly at the mention of mess. He should see her apartment. That was the true definition of mess.

"No problem. Your room is... lovely." Her eyes wandered to where a coiled whip hung from a hook near the doorway. Her eyebrows raised. "That's an interesting weapon you have there. How would you use such a thing?"

Ennisa was always happy to accept a drink. She took the proffered cup gratefully and took a sip of the alcohol found inside. She nodded to herself as she listened to the man as he spoke. His answers weren't exactly overflowing with information, but that wasn't a problem. She had plenty of time. He seemed friendly enough, although he did exude a somewhat creepy air.

Ennisa mused, then as soon as he mentioned what race he was, she couldn't help but exclaim, "Aha!" Immediately she apologised. "Sorry. I suppose I'm not that put off because, well, I don't know you." She shrugged, but the statement was a true one. Ennisa would withhold judgement, for now. That was not to say she was hasty to trust him, and she certainly wasn't stupid, but she continued, "Besides, if you were dangerous, I somehow doubt the Shinya would'a let you in."

She winked conspiratorially, and took a polite sip of the drink. The flint lay nearby, but it seemed clear that both she and Yvaleth knew the item wasn't the real reason she'd come to visit. She decided that didn't matter too much. Let him think whatever he liked.

"No, I have lived in Lhavit all my life. Itzi, too. It must be quite fascinating to have travelled. I can only wonder about the exciting things you must have seen." She was a little envious. "What's the wildest adventure you've had, Yvaleth?"

She leaned forward eagerly to listen, and would be disappointed if he refused. Yet, she also took this time to study him further. She was mildly perturbed by his mention of gobbling her up, so it was probably a good thing that she'd missed his gaze falling on her exposed wrists. Nevertheless, his soft movements and odd limb proportions were disconcerting. She wondered many things, but she knew she would need to remember a little more of her lessons. What was it about Symnestra that was so dangerous; surely he was just joking about eating her. Wasn't he?

WC : 427

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Last edited by Ennisa on November 7th, 2019, 3:47 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Come Into My Parlor

Postby Yvaleth on November 7th, 2019, 4:06 am

The wine was bitter and young, but possessed a sweet aftertaste that felt warm and soothing on his tongue. Combined with the fire and quiet conversation, Yvaleth was reminded of old times spent with friends. Nanisa had always sat affectionately at his feet while he absently toyed with her black hair.

Gods, he missed home.

"How would you use such a thing?"

"The whip?" Yvaleth looked lazily toward the door. "You aim with your wrist."

Balancing his cup in his lap, the Symenestra held out one long arm, his fingers closed loosely around an imaginary whip handle with his thumb pointed outward. Slowly, he mimed the motion of throwing out a whip. It didn't look very impressive without the real implement.

"That one was my father's. My family are leatherworkers by trade. Whips were…" Yvaleth paused, struggling for the proper word in Common. "Our symbol. What we were known for."

That felt so long ago now. Far away and forever out of reach. Yvaleth sipped his wine pensively.

"Besides, if you were dangerous, I somehow doubt the Shinya would'a let you in."

"If I were dangerous…" The Symenestra scoffed lightly. "It was certainly an effort to convince them I wasn't. There is much misinformation about my people. We travel often. We look strange to the sunborn races. Like beasts, we possess claws, fangs, and venom. We don't eat the same foods. Naturally, when something goes amiss, the suspicious foreigner is the first person to blame."

Yvaleth frowned. He'd used this sort of rhetoric before to put women at ease. It was all rot. Carefully chosen words that he'd been taught to frame Symenestra as the victims of a cruel misunderstanding. He hated the way it sounded. Wormish, manipulative, slimy.

"I appreciate your open mindedness."

Even though Yvaleth had no intention of harming Ennisa, it felt natural to lie to her. What could she possibly understand, anyway?

Her next question caught him off guard.

"What's the wildest adventure you've had, Yvaleth?"

"My… wildest…?" Yvaleth stared at Ennisa, confused. He'd never bothered to catalogue his experiences as wild or not, let alone think of any of them as "adventures". His jewel toned eyes angled away and trailed over the floor as he tried to recollect.

"Please let me go, please. I won't tell anyone! I promise, I promise. I'll just go home, I'll stay quiet—ahh!”

Yvaleth grabbed a fistful of the human's long hair and jerked her head back. With all her limbs bound, her weight fell helplessly against him. Fresh streams of tears surged down her already wet cheeks. The Symenestra picked up a cup and forced it against her lips. The liquid inside smelled intensely herbal.

"Drink."

She forcefully shook her head, pressing her lips tightly together. Hours of crying had stuffed her nose, so she couldn't resist for long.

"Drink, or you'll choke on it."

Yvaleth released her hair and tightly grasped her jaw. She fought, violently shaking her head, but he began to snake his claws into her mouth to force her jaw apart. She bit down, but his long claws were strong and impervious.

"No! Nngbllghh—"


Yvaleth blinked after a long, quiet moment, then lifted his head again.

"I went to Ahnatep once as a child," he answered finally. "We attended a parade for the royalty. It was an extravagant occasion. There were a lot of animals. Dancers. Arms."

He crossed one leg over the other

"I've been enjoying your fair city, though. I've never seen anything like it before. Is there truly an Alvina that resides here?" He paused to drink from his cup. "What is the significance of the okomo animal? I see it mentioned often."
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Come Into My Parlor

Postby Ennisa on November 7th, 2019, 6:00 pm

Date
"speech"
"others"


Ennisa pulled a face as the man mimed flicking the whip. She couldn't see how that could be an effective weapon, even with Yvaleth's demonstration, yet the whip was one of the Symnestra's only belongings. It must have some special significance, especially with the mention of it being connected to his father. For once, Ennisa decided to have a bit of tact, and refrained from making any smart comments. Instead, she arranged her face into a polite smile, said, "That's fascinating," and took a little sip of the wine. "Do your family live far from here then?"

Her thoughts turned briefly to her own father, a petching Svefra, presumably having a petching lovely time out on the ocean somewhere. The corner of her mouth turned inwards at the thought of the man she hated, but the drink and the conversation soon drew her out of the temporary distraction.

"I'm glad to hear you like my open-mindedness. Though, now that you mention it... fangs? Poison? You sound scary after all!" She recoiled, but the action was mildly mocking, and she burst out with a short peal of laughter that was vibrant as it was brief. "Sorry, it's just that you look so frail. Fangs and venom, huh..." That bit of information she stored away, and endeavoured to peek at his mouth as he spoke, just in case she saw some barbed teeth within. That would be quite something to tell Itzi, later.

Yvaleth's description of the royalty of what she presumed was a city, somewhere, was disappointingly sparse in detail. She had been hoping for a grand tale which she could relate back. The mention of arms confused her, but apart from that, the tale was short. She mentioned as such. "That's a short story! Did anything else happen, at this parade? You can get dancers anywhere, you know." She didn't seem to notice how her knowing tone could be portrayed as rude. Hopefully, Yvaleth didn't think that of her, otherwise their neighbourly relationship would be off to a rocky start already.

When Yvaleth moved the topic over to Lhavit, Ennisa opened up a little, her face lit up as now she could impart some of her own knowledge. "Right! I'm glad to hear you've been enjoying Lhavit. There is a lot to enjoy. There in an Alvina here! That would be our lovely Zintila, Goddess of Stars. You may even see her, sometimes. Our goddess is a beauty, of course, to match our city." She was bragging now. "And the okomo. I'm sure you've probably seen them around. They are a sacred animal. Don't ever harm one, or you'll get a Lhavitian's wrath." She broke off as she had suddenly thought of something.

"Gods, do you know, I don't even know why the okomo are sacred!" She rolled her eyes, and blushed at her own foolishness. "I'll get back to you on that one." Now was time for her investigations. Her expression took on an edge of gentle cunning as she leaned forwards to address the man more fully. "Now. Yvaleth. Why are you here in Lhavit?"

WC : 517

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Come Into My Parlor

Postby Yvaleth on November 9th, 2019, 2:56 pm

Date 519 AV
"Do your family live far from here then?"

Yvaleth narrowed his eyes. His family. By now, they were probably worried about him. Yvaleth had plans to be home in Summer, and now that Fall was well underway, his was significantly overdue. He had sent no letters, nothing to assure them of his well-being. Many years ago, his father had died while abroad. It was likely they were beginning to fear the worst for Yvaleth, too.

Good.

“Yes.” He sipped his wine.

Yvaleth glanced the girl over as she squirmed over the thought of fangs and venom. She truly was unfamiliar with the Symenestra, or perhaps, did not expect them to look more humanlike than beastly. It was a familiar refrain, but she responded with more curiosity than fear. Girls like this were so easy to lure. She would not be an unfit target for Harvest.

Gods. He shut his eyes for a moment. His hand around squeezed around the arm of his chair at the unwelcome thought, snagging two of his claws in the fabric.

“My ancestors were victims of the Valterrian.” Yvaleth pulled gently at the stuck claws, carefully trying to dislodge them without fraying the chair’s fabric. “There are stories passed down through generations from when our people lived in jungles, among the trees. We still had claws, but we were very different from our current selves. We weren’t quite so… pallid and toothy.”

Pulling his claws loose, he vainly tried to smooth the ruined spot of fabric.

“So it’s believed. It’s nothing to fear. We have culture, music, and art like everyone else.”

Ennisa prodded at the Ahnatep story, but Yvaleth’s expression hardened. He hadn’t been watching the parade from the road with everyone else. He’d been with his cousins, crouched on a rooftop, focused on the movements of one particular Eypharian girl. She later died in Kalinor. Probably.

“Not dancers like these. Eypharians have four arms. Sometimes six.” He batted a hand as he attempted a joke. “Three or five if something catastrophic happened to them.”

He listened contently as Ennisa went on enthusiastically about Lhavit. It was good to see her light up on the subject. He wasn’t very good at answering prodding questions. At least, not when he wasn’t lying. As she went on, he got up and refilled his cup of wine, then relaxed back down in his seat, quietly watching her while he sipped with both hands.

His eyes were like a cat’s, wide and unblinking. Curiously he studied the contours of her face, listened to the timbre of her voice as she spoke. With her high cheekbones, like a Symenestra, she was passably attractive. A bit too solid of build, however. And her voice needed more velvet.

Unexpectedly, she turned the subject around on him again. Yvaleth lifted his eyebrows, surprised and unprepared.

“I…” The answer hitched in his throat. Because he was running away. He had nowhere else to go. It was as close to home as he could be without allowing anyone to know he was still alive. “I wanted to live sunside for awhile. Get to know the races. Ply my wares.”

He waved his fingers at her.

“You’ve asked so much about me. Tell me about yourself. You’ve grown up here.” He set his cup down in his lap. “Do you have family here? Did your friend Itzi have reservations about me as a neighbor?” He tilted his head. “Do you have a betrothed who should know your whereabouts?”

Were these appropriate questions? He wasn’t certain. These were simply things a Symenestra asked a girl to ascertain what sort of connections she had in the city. Whether anyone would come looking for her if she went suddenly missing.

However she was backing him into a corner with her curiosity. He had to push back before she realized his answers were shallow, and he was trying to conceal how inappropriate he felt being in her company this way.
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Come Into My Parlor

Postby Ennisa on November 9th, 2019, 6:47 pm

"speech"
"others"


Ennisa decided that it was frustrating attempting to draw information from Yvaleth. It was like trying to milk a stone. Or rather, not quite a stone. She had to give him that. Yvaleth's emotions didn't readily show on his curious face, and nor did his voice pitch overly dramatically when talking, but his quietness was telling in a different kind of way. As time progressed, Ennisa's initial readiness to chat and get comfortable with the stranger withdrew into herself as she began to feel a little out of her depth.

His description of his race was quite something. She pictured Yvaleth, lurking in a tree, and although the image should have been amusing, she couldn't help but imagine those violet eyes looking down from the darkness. Nevertheless, she took a further sip of wine and mulled over his words. Ennisa, who was mostly all plain human except for a small part of her connected (unwillingly in her case) to the sea and to the Svefra, found the man's knowledge of his race's origins fascinating. What did she know of the origins of humanity? Nothing, really. As far as she was aware, humans were all across Mizahar. Had they not come from somewhere, like Yvaleth and the Symnestra?

"More than two arms, huh. I suppose that would be a sight to see. Where did you say the race was from - Ahnatep? It sounds a strange kind of place. You'll have to tell me more, sometime." She tilted her glass towards him in a small toast, yet the gesture was minute and she softly rested the glass down again.

The conversation was slow and still. Almost languid. Ennisa didn't really understand why, but when he turned her questions back at her, she couldn't help feeling a little disconcerted. Yet she pushed those feelings down, putting the reaction down to the still atmosphere, the as-of-yet unfounded rumours, and the beginnings of the effect of the alcohol warming her blood.

Instead, she cheerfully replied, "Well, Yvaleth. I don't think there's much to tell about me. My life's been decidedly simple. I do have family here, my mum and my younger brother Seth." She narrowed her eyes as she thought. "I've probably got family elsewhere too, though I won't include them."

She laughed at his mention of Itzi. "No, she dared me to come round here..-!" She broke off and whipped her hand up to her mouth to try and push the blunder back into her big gob. Yet, what did it matter? She smiled, and continued, "Well, that's busted me, hasn't it? I don't really need that flint you got for me there. Itzi and I dared each other, and I accepted. But you're not as bad as some people made out. Hope you don't mind."

She grinned impishly, and folded one leg over the other. His gaze was a little uncomfortable, yet oddly pleasing too. It wasn't often that she garnered such fascinated, one-on-one attention. She laughed again as he mentioned a betrothed. "Nope! I've not got a man in my life. Why, are you offering?" She winked playfully, but it was only in jest. She realised too late that she probably shouldn't be flirting with someone she'd only just met, and a Symnestra at that, but by now it was too late to take the words back.

She swallowed the last of the wine with one deep gulp, and stood up. "Hey, Yvaleth? Do you want to come round and meet Itzi? You can get to know the human race a bit more if you get a second friend. I think I need to get you a house-warming gift too. We've got a potted plant that would brighten up the place nicely, if you want." She left the invitation hanging. If the man wanted to, she would lead him out and bring him round to her own apartment, but if he refused she would sit back down, and wonder how to make her exit.

WC : 662

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Come Into My Parlor

Postby Yvaleth on November 11th, 2019, 3:44 pm

Date 519 AV
“It sounds a strange kind of place. You'll have to tell me more, sometime.”

Yvaleth shrugged. That was unlikely.

“It’s a city in a desert. The sun is blinding. It’s nothing compared to Lhavit.” The sight royalty had been passingly interesting. But like any sunborn city, Yvaleth had been led to believe their society was crime-ridden, self-cannibalizing, and good for only their exports of fine perfumes and easy access to vulnerable women.

As sweet and innocent as Ennisa seemed to be, Yvaleth couldn’t help but sense hesitance when asked about her family. It was all too familiar. Between his own tyrant grandfather and the damnable rumors about his mother after his father’s death, he recognized family tension when he saw it. The Symenestra half wondered if she had come to his apartment only to draw their concern and attention.

He sipped his wine. She’d be disappointed.

“No, she dared me to come round here..-!”

Yvaleth paused lifting his cup, then set it back down. He lifted a single eyebrow at the human who’d only come by to “borrow a flint” and introduce herself.

“But you're not as bad as some people made out. Hope you don't mind.”

“I’m flattered.” The more people who thought Yvaleth was boring and harmless, the better. It was easy to forgive Ennisa for her dishonest incursion. She was helping him as much as he was amusing her and her friend. “I commend your bravery. Alas, I’m only a simple leatherworker.”

For a moment, he thought Ennisa had tried flirting with him. At a loss for how to react, Yvaleth pretended he hadn’t heard her. He just finished his wine.

“Hey, Yvaleth? Do you want to come round and meet Itzi?”

“Please. ‘Val’ is fine.” He hadn’t been called ‘Val’ since Varien had gone home. He missed it terribly. And ‘Yvaleth’ was a mouthful at any rate. “And, actually, I’d be delighted. If she dared you to come round, she likely isn’t expecting a visit from the resident Widow. It might stick in her craw in a satisfying way.” Yvaleth dared at a shadow of a smile. “I can come by and say hello. Watch her go sheet white. After that, I think I’ll retire for a bit.”

He nodded to her.

“It’s been a pleasure.” Yvaleth set his cup aside and pushed himself up to his clawed feet. He’d finish the bottle on his own once he was finished visiting with the neighbors. “Do lead the way, Ennisa.”
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Code credit : Ennisa
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Come Into My Parlor

Postby Ennisa on November 12th, 2019, 12:26 pm

Date
"speech"
"others"


Ennisa enjoyed every new scrap of information that came her way. A city in the desert sounded so utterly, devastatingly different from anything she had ever encountered. She could barely even fathom what a desert was. The closest thing she could think of was the ocean, that stretched out from the shore to the horizon, a seemingly dead, flat plain. If the water was sand instead, if the beaches spread out in front of the mountains of Lhavit and the Unforgiving... what would that be like?

So it was strange to see Yvaleth's apparent lack of fascination with Ahnatep. Perhaps for a traveller, talk of such places was boring. Ennisa abruptly felt rather plain and stupid. There was much to love about Lhavit, and indeed, she doubted she would ever leave her home. Yet, whenever she spoke to strangers, their tales of travel ignited such rabid fascination within her that she did sometimes question if she was missing out on something.

With her blunder easily set aside, to her relief, the man agreed to come round to her own apartment. She was pleased. The man seemed... lonely. Perhaps it was the quietness, and the empty room. Ennisa functioned on organised chaos. It was her preferred state of being, and her flat definitely reflected that. The Symnestra was in for a shock.

"Do lead the way." Ennisa left the man's apartment and crossed the short distance over to her flat. The front door was unlocked, as Itzi was inside, but Ennisa knocked out of courtesy anyway. As she pushed the door open, she called out, "Hey. Itz! I've brought a friend over. You decent?" The woman inside was silent. Ennisa cast a look over her shoulder at Val.

"She's probably gone to sleep." She rolled her eyes to herself, but entered the room anyway. The inside of the apartment was as if a miniature tornado had whirled through it. The bed sheets were twisted and lay half-off, half-on the bed. A crumpled bed roll lay sprawled across the floor. There was a pile of dirty dishes beside the hearth, and the desk beside that was strewn with clothes and other scrumpled detritus. The aforementioned potted plant, however, sat next to the window, and it flourished as well as it ever did.

Yet of Itzi there was no sign. Ennisa frowned minutely. What the petch? Itzi was supposed to have been keeping an ear out, just in case. Obviously, she'd got bored or something. Ennisa sighed. "Sorry, Val. It looks like you'll have to meet her another day. Looks like she's petched off. Anyway, I promised you a house-warming gift. Please, make yourself at home." She gestured loosely around the room. If Yvaleth found himself a place to sit, that would be an achievement in itself. She stepped over the junk on the floor in the practised way of someone who did that a lot, and picked up the houseplant.

"It's nothing special, but for some reason it seems to be indestructible. Please, take it. You'll probably look after it better than me or Itzi could anyway. Just remember it needs water every so often." She handed the potted plant over. It was surprisingly light. A quick look at the soil would indicate it hadn't been watered in weeks.

"This was fun Val. Perhaps I'll see you around, yeah?" It was neither an invitation to stay or to leave. Ennisa was happy to play at being a competent host, but she had nothing to offer the strange, spindly man. It would be up to Yvaleth to see himself out, if that was what he wished.

WC : 603

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Sharai | Shinyama | Zintia (home) | Tenten | Sartu (work)
4-6, Dawn Rest | 10-12, Noon Rest | 16-18, Dusk Rest | 22-24, Midnight Rest

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