Igraine

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

Galina laughed, nodding her head slowly with approval. She watched the young man's gaze, assessing her nursemaid and old friend with new eyes. This was a thing she liked to see, this thoughtfulness. If she must leave Klara with this man, he should know the elder woman was no shrinking violet herself. There had been no lie to her earlier words, when she said the Baron Demidov had a always had a way with the vicious and intractable. Not even the family's nursemaids were entirely without teeth and claws of their own. Let him beware...

... Because neither Goemon's apologetic words nor demeanor were true, of course. Oh this young man was a consummate professional, without a single, solitary doubt. For the space of no more than a moment, she had let her guard down, and Goemon had pressed - as, of course, he should.

Only a complete fool would not.

His was an agile mind, armed with deftly-wielded words and a nimble voice. Galina had been inexcusably stupid, and she knew this all too well. There was no good excuse for this lapse in judgment though there were, of course, many reasons she could easily enumerate: unrelieved loneliness, with neither mother nor sister nor trustworthy lady friend in whom to confide; a ridiculous, girlish fantasy left to run amok in the otherwise orderly, pristine halls of her mind; a man whose conversation she genuinely enjoyed, whose face held the vaguest resemblance, to the one she would truly prefer to see this night...

Not a one of these "reasons" was sufficient to keep the self-disgust tamped down in her gut, the bitter taste like bile in the back of her throat.

She was absolutely ridiculous. She was an idiot. Galina was done with this dinner.

"No need for apologies, Mr. Goemon," she replied, returning his seated bow politely and gracefully, "Quite the opposite, actually."

"And I am sure Klara will be glad to remind you to coordinate with the ship's chef, and order your fish left uncooked for the remainder of this ocean voyage." Galina glanced to Klara with a sweet smile that never reached her dark eyes. In turn, Klara nodded her agreement with the young lady's reassurances that Goemon's fish dishes at least, for the rest of this cruise, would be as unspeakably rare as he could possibly wish, if she had a single thing to say on the matter.

"But if you give me the choice?" Galina continued, with a small apologetic shrug of her shoulders, as if she were helpless to stop the words that followed. "I hope you do not think me too rude of course, or forward, but I would prefer to meet with Mr. Selvin this very moment."

Galina dabbed lightly at her lips with her napkin, even though there was hardly a need when she'd eaten precious little of this meal at any rate. Still, there were appearances to be preserved, before both the diners aboard the Empress and, of course, her fellow spy. Laying the napkin down lightly alongside her still-full plate, she rose to her feet, pushing her chair back.

"I must return to my rooms and retrieve a few items before we meet with our mutual friend," she said, holding the back of Klara's chair as she rose before turning back to Goemon, still smiling. "Would you care to accompany us, or shall I meet you elsewhere before we finally speak with Mr. Slevin?"

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

XD Not getting into it either, but... In 1947... ;) Natural, but not fun at all I imagine *hugs gently, grabs a fan and a tall cool drink of something with lots of ice cubes for Hellis*

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Hellis said
I mean. 1st world problems.But scandinavia with 37 degrees celcius is Heinus. Explain that climate change deniers x.x

It's just called "weather," hon. For example, here in the U.S. last winter, we had record high snowfalls and low temps in several locations: http://www.weather.com/news/weather-winter/winter-weather-watch-2013-2014-20131002?pageno=1 Throughout the history of the planet, weather just kinda happens *shrugs*

Doesn't make it any less of a pain in the arse though, when it's not all lovely and comfortable outside! :( Stay cool, Hellis!

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Lovely post Heroes, really - and it was just this kind of twist that makes me glad I didn't go into details on anyone's characters, where they might be or how they appeared (I promise, it wasn't neglect!)

Oh Hellis that sounds awful - but at least there is a beach to go enjoy (or maybe at least sweat a little less at?)

So sorry about your week Derren. I know we've chatted about it before, but... Wow >< Hope you catch your moment to breath soon hon.

Loki's Laugh

So long as it's not

this ring

we should be fine...

A post will be wonderful Idle, but far more important is that you're feeling some better. Be good to yourself hon, and the posts will come when they do.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

A most fantastic day was had today, thank you for asking Heroes. Visiting the Marine Corps museum with family, and then we decided to go see the movie "Lucy." I have to admit, it wasn't really what I expected at all (not really sure what I expected actually) but it was a fun bit of sci fi - and yes, for the guys, there is always Scarlet Johannson! *grins*

So how has your day been, hmm? And all the rest of our folks at the beautiful start of this weekend? Plans, anyone?

World of Darkness (Boston)

Similarly to most everyone's situation, I'm waiting on something from the Archbishop to do anything with my character. Granted, I left off with Brigid to interact with Idle's Vasile a bit before stepping into his "office," but that can be just as easily fixed as needed. Obviously Idle's not feeling well and lack of time certainly can't be helped (so sad she had to go - her characters were amazing, as is the lady who created them :( ), but my writing can be edited.

Tides of Dusk: A Piratical Tale of Fantasy

"Nothing you have not already given, Mademoiselle Beauchamp," Antonia quipped in her perfect Parisian French, silken and warm. She wore that same, sweet grin, and maintained her upside down perch for some moments longer. Of course the rogue realized that she had startled the First Mate, and of course she heard that soft, near inaudible gasp. That was her job, after all, to see and hear what might be otherwise missed - or even dismissed - in the course of every exchange.

But it was also a rather intrinsic part of the rogue's job, to use discretion and delicacy, and even a touch of wisdom when sifting through such tidbits of information. And so Antonia remained just as she was, smiling brightly, her view of the Dusk Skate's deck topsy-turvy of course though not the least disconcerting from a spider's perspective. Besides, what could possibly be more innocuous, more childishly harmless, than the grinning, vaguely silly sight of a woman swaying upside down from the ropes of the rigging, the thick cables twisted about her legs, with that long ebony braid swinging side-to-side like the pendulum of some strange clock.

The rogue had not forgotten the events of the night past. Far, far from it, in truth. But Antonia had thousands of masks, where Nicolette had only the one - the very one she presented to her now. No one understood better than she, that a mask was more than a mere costume, an ephemeral disguise. A mask was armor, and the rogue would do nothing intentionally to strip Nicolette's from her.

"In truth, I have a gift for you. A small token of my gratitude for what you did yesterday, for our Captain." Antonia winced with yet another remembrance though, also involving the Captain and the First Mate and the matter of a certain embrace, and a small bark of laughter bubbled past her lips.

"Obviously, I mean on the Skate's deck, and not... Well, below deck? I do apologize for that... Ah... Misunderstanding, I suppose we might generously call it? Still, I should not have barged into your quarters, no matter the business that seemed so urgent in the moment." There was naught but the light of sincerity in Antonia's grey eyes and her tender smile as she peered into Nicolette's lovely face. Whatever else the First Mate might have read there, was entirely her own doing.

Antonia leaned upward, her long, agile hands reaching for the rope she twined her legs about, grasping its length to pull herself up and then drop lightly to the deck beside the First Mate. She looked up to Nicolette now, the timbre of her voice gentle and true. "Thomas Lightfoot's life is... Priceless. To me it is - and I do not imagine I have hidden such a thing from you, Mademoiselle Beauchamp?"

The rogue looked away for a moment, loosening the leather tie gathers of a dark velvet bag bound to her belt. It was not terribly large, no longer than the length of her hand, and her gaze returned to Nicolette's face as she offered her the bag. Easily seen through the confines of the velvet, was the rectangular shape of a box.

"Thank you, nonetheless. We will never know what that dog Cooper might have done, if he would have pulled the trigger... " The rogue's voice trailed off, filled with the desperate, helpless emotion of that horrific moment. Antonia took a deep breath, smiling resolutely as she steadied herself once more.

"But I know what you did," she finished softly, meaningfully. Her grey eyes peered about them, over the deck. The sight of the two women aboard the Skate speaking to one another was new, a thing unheard of to this moment, and the rogue could feel curious stares turned their way.

She did not imagine Nicolette would enjoy becoming a spectacle.

"Please do accept this and - if you like - feel free to open it in the privacy of your quarters. Or not, as you will. It is a delicate, exquisite thing, this small token. Even the layers that hold this gift are beautiful, but what lies within is uniquely lovely - as you are."

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Good morning Inuyasha, and thank you for looking in on us! I'm only the co-GM, AmongHeroes is the GM of course. Just to let you know, this RP is actually approaching the ending of this particular 'chapter,' though there may be others come along later into the future. (Still, this is Advanced and a group RP at that, so 'wrapping up' may still take some time).

But by all means, contact AmongHeroes to talk with him if you're still interested, or have an idea that might fit in toward the end of this 'episode' of Pieces :)

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

[[Nyet.]]

The single word was spoken simply, calmly, without the musicality of Galina's matchless voice or the silken charm of Goemon's. But that one word cut through the mutual spell woven by these two spies like a white hot blade through butter.

The elder woman sat up a touch straighter in her chair, gathering all the dignity of her many years about her like regal robes as she smiled kindly to the young Japanese man. "This is no reflection on your most kind offer Mr. Goemon," Klara began almost gently, her fork perched lightly between fingers and thumb, "But I am afraid my dear Galina did not provide you with a proper introduction when you joined us."

Our dear Galina seems to have left out quite a bit more than a right introduction tonight. Far, far more that she confided in neither family nor friends...

"Galina Demidova is, after all, the Baronessa Demidova." Klara reached over the table to playfully tap at one of the young woman's hands, as if the old nursemaid lovingly chastised a wayward child. Merciful heaven, but she had not grown so old or insensate as to miss the signs, even in a child grown so apt at deception as the precious babe she once cradled in her arms.

Something dark, something vicious and eminently dangerous flared in the younger woman's eyes, an unreasoning fury almost immediately tamped down - a rage that could only have been extinguished by the loving touch of her dear, wise friend. Rather, a wide and lovely smile spread across her face as she turned toward Goemon with a small nod of her head, quietly and respectfully affirming all that the elder woman spoke.

"Our beloved Galina often leaves off her title, thinking it might seem... Well... Pretentious, I imagine," Klara continued, as if she had not noticed in the least the bared fangs of the wolf sitting beside her. "Even so, you may be unfamiliar with the ways of Russian nobility. I fear it would be most... Unseemly, for a noblewoman to go searching after some strange man she only just met in passing. Even by proxy."

And the storm unleashed by Galina's brothers... Oh God have mercy on us all - by her father! Klara shuddered imperceptibly, though she still managed to keep that same sweet smile on her lips. The towering rage of the Baron Demidov, to discover his beloved Galina's first affections may have been given to a foreigner - and to a man of no particular birth or note at that? After the endless slew of noble sons she had spurned with no more than a dismissive toss of her head? After the platoons of fine Don Cossack officers Galina insisted she would only embrace as brothers-in-arms?

No, it simply did not bear thinking on.

The young woman squeezed Klara's hand lightly, unspoken gratitude combined easily with a reassurance she no longer needed her beloved nursemaid to set her right. Whatever madness might have let her be seduced by Goemon's sweetly tempting words had passed, and the spy was herself once more.

"I meant no deception, Mr. Goemon, but I fear my dear friend has the right of our circumstances. Your offer is most kind and at the very least, I certainly do accept the spirit in which it was given. You do your country no disservice at all. You do tempt me of course - the company of Takahiro Souma was a genuine joy."

"But no, it would be most inappropriate and, I imagine, he would remember precious little of me at any rate. His society was far more memorable than my poor efforts, of course."

Besides, the drug she had spiked his champagne with was very well-known for its short-term amnesiac properties.

Galina sighed softly, nodding to the waiter who appeared at her elbow to clear her half-eaten meal away. "So Mr. Goemon, shall we enjoy dessert and coffee, or should we be on to meet with our soon-to-be mutual friend, Mr. Slevin? I admit, I have little enough appetite tonight, but I would not dream of dragging anyone from all the courses of such a delicious meal."

"Or, perhaps, will Mr. Slevin be joining us then? That should be a pleasant enough way to end a wonderful dinner, and the start of an equally productive night."