The Governor's Return

Re: The Governor's Return

Postby Cherny » Tue Jun 25, 2013 11:12 am

The new Ser Elliot Gahald, in common with Elliot Brown of old, is fond of his own voice - of words a touch grander than really belong in the mouth of a farmer's son. To Cherny's mind, though, they've tended more to the complimentary of late - kinder, more generous than the uncouth bragging of before, spoken with a sentiment far nobler than I take what I want. So the boy offers a gracious little bow for the young knight's assessment of his character, delivered with such a fine speech.

Perhaps it's the bubbling wine that fills his head with fizz and renders him a touch more garrulous - by no means drunk, but the colour in his cheeks is not entirely down to Ser Elliot's kind words; perhaps it's the closeness of his friend Ser Catch, his mirth contagious, that makes the boy bold. Whatever the case he nods in agreement with the addled man's correction, hurriedly swallowing another biscuit of blackberry-fish-jam.

"S-ser Catch is, is right. You've f-forgot, but it's b-been a, a y-year, or about th-that." Offered amiably enough, in this particular moment the mill-boy feeling rather benevolent towards a youth he might've quite recently wished to see fall flat on his smug face. "You g-gave me th-this for, for M-midwinter." His thin hand pats the sturdy shortsword at his hip, turning it so the older boy might inspect it for a moment, while Cherny in turn inspects him. It's only once the addled man has wandered off that he speaks again, glancing to either side as if watchful of being overheard by undesirables.

"Y-you've changed s-since, and p-people have been c-complaining about w-what happened t-to Elliot, he's d-different!" A shrug of thin shoulders and a dismissive wave of his hand indicate what he thinks of such concerns. He leans in, almost conspiratorial, and lowers his voice to speak in quiet and apologetic tones as if drawing attention to some regrettably delicate matter. "You were a, an ass m-most of the t-time, and I d-didn't like you m-much. You w-were learning th-thieving and kn-knives, you th-threatened to c-cut out my t-tongue, and you f-fought a C-constable."

He pauses a moment to let the knight take in this litany of sins, a dismayed shake of his head at the antics of the old Elliot. He brightens a moment later, though, offering an encouraging grin.

"I l-like you more n-now. Y-you smile more, and y-you're polite and w-want to, to h-help people ins-stead of, of r-robbing them. S-so if, if you w-want to b-be friends--"

And then there's Catch's voice, deep and clear as a temple bell, saying that. The boy's eyes widen, and his head snaps round to where the addled man is accosting Sera Olwak.

"'Scuse m-me." Hastily muttered to the knight as he ducks a vague approximation of a bow and hurries across the floor to the addled man's side as quickly as decorum permits.
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Re: The Governor's Return

Postby Dulcie » Tue Jun 25, 2013 12:39 pm

The innkeeper arrived later to the ball than some of the others, due to the sheer amount of work involved in getting ready. She was a completely different version of herself tonight, wearing a borrowed gown from Rhaena that was a soft dusty pink in color with gold embroidered patterns across the bodice and along the sleeves. Her skirt was full of many puffy ruffles and a slight train that swished and swayed as she walked into the gathering area, her hazel eyes surveying the people that had gathered while she carefully fanned herself with a white feather fan.

It was a shame she hadn't come with an escort, but it didn't seem to matter too horribly, she'd simply sashay over to Councilor Berdini's side to strike up a winning conversation. The pair of them chattered over glasses of wine and the innkeeper beamed with pride as he complimented her on the extravagance of her braided and curled hairstyle, her own hand touching at the locks with an aire of vanity as she pointed out the little gems that she had also borrowed from Rhaena that had been pinned into those soft curls as well.

She sighed with happiness as she regarded the crowd for the evening. So many beautiful people, even all that noise from Catch couldn't spoil it.
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Re: The Governor's Return

Postby channe » Wed Jun 26, 2013 3:46 am

"My dear Dulcie!"

Petronela practically swans over from her spot by where the wine is being distributed and goes to Dulcie's and Berdini's side, looking like she's gliding under those long skirts. "You look absolutely beautiful. Hello, Councilor; splendid party." She turns, and watches the girls as they start disseminating through the crowd, giggling with men and flirting from behind their fans.
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Re: The Governor's Return

Postby Dulcie » Wed Jun 26, 2013 4:18 am

"Nela!" How the girl from Dulcie's childhood had changed. She'd beg her excuses from Berdini who accepted the compliments with his usual grace before stepping away to attend to his other guests, leaving Dulcie in the good hands of one of his favorite business owners.

Dulcie smiled to Nela and moved to loop her arm in the other woman's.

"Isn't it just a wonderful party? And your girls look so lovely. Not that I approve of their profession in particular mind you, but oh do they look beautiful. The twins are ever so jealous of you, do you know that? They haven't even found husbands yet and here you are, the envy of so many with a business all of your own." She sighed contentedly. Nela all grown up and successful, now if only her younger sisters would follow suit.
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Re: The Governor's Return

Postby breeevil » Wed Jun 26, 2013 6:27 am

Parties like this were always the best places to go for Clayton. The people had spent so long to get ready for this.. every hair on their head perfectly placed, their faces done up with stains on their lips and cheeks and liners on their eyes, their clothes planned for days or even weeks in advance.

He could feel them, those girls. Some of them ebbing with jealousy over the others.. thinking back on how they had spent time staring at their dress as it hung on a door or over a chair in their rooms, taunting them. They had, most of them, tried on their shoes.. walked around in them to make sure the way their hips moved was was going to match that of any music. Planning how they would speak, practicing their giggles. Customizing their glares.
They would be proud of themselves.. more and more as the night wore on. As the most lovely of the women continued to dance and flirt into the long hours of the night, the lesser women would not. They would feel bad.. and they would leave. And that would leave him with only the most confident and self-satisfied women in the room.
As for the men? They were much more simple. They dressed, they attended with women on their arms or courted them there on the dance floor, they flaunted their haughtyness, they went home.
At least the was usually how great affairs like this worked. He hadn't paid much attention during the last one he attended because he was too busy laughing at Gloria and Snowy.
It was hard to decide which was more enjoyable.


It was rather convenient, in an off way, that almost everyone he was trying to see was turning up here. Timing was everything, he had said before, and this just proved it.
As he spots Dulcie, his glass is lifted to her and he smiles, head tilting in her direction. Cheers. Have a good night.. he does not make a move towards her for any more social a greeting.
Treadwell and his wife, the lovely Alice, get a wave from him. It is nice to see the Glutton out and about, healed.. moving without wincing. Not sleeping.
He was only guessing, really, at which one was Rhaena.. but he was pretty confident in his assumption given her attire. The way she flitted about.
And then there was this boy. There is a big difference in the him.. Elliot. Clayton had been told that something was off, so he was not blindsided by the change. Not as confused as he could have been by it, but it was -intriguing- to say the least. Elliot does not lack devotion, dedication, or the urge to protect. He is not a coward by any means.. but it's not the same as it was before. The pride.. the confidence.. it's warped. But it's also very true.
Hmm.
The wall is a very nice place to be tonight.
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Re: The Governor's Return

Postby Jirai » Thu Jun 27, 2013 2:26 am

"Ser Catch. You look quite dashing tonight. Are those new clothes? They suit you quite admirably." She smiled at him, despite those words, despite his rudeness. This was Catch, after all.

"Now, Catch, do you recall that there are some things that Good Citizens do not say or do? Good Citizens do not say what you just said, Catch. That is very rude. You don't want to be rude, do you?"
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Re: The Governor's Return

Postby Glenn » Thu Jun 27, 2013 2:42 am

"Oh, Cherny," his voice was only a little exasperated, for Elliot Gahald had the patience of long-lodged rock with moss ever growing upon it. It was a knightly virtue and one of the most important. He didn't want to go into the explanation again. He would save all of them but here it might just muddy things. "You are a good and true lad. I'm sure of it, and I think we shall be fast friends. Let's just focus on the future though, right? That we can decide upon and together. The past is beyond our grasp." He was about to say something else when Catch bounded across the room and made his statement. He watched and for a moment, the world seemed to pause.

You are fourteen years old, sitting around the campfire with Sir Gahald. The giant beasts that inhabit Lothaine were terrible threats, incredible dangers, but they were also a bounty as well. No matter what they might have been once, they were now pure bestial creatures and they provide the substance that would allow you and your knight to survive in this wilderness. It in in the midst of these repasts that Sir Gahald explains to you the importance of hierarchy, of a proper order to live. You learn to understand that being a hedge knight, of rushing about the countryside with a sword and good intentions actually does more harm than good. It is only through serving a Lord or a Lady who is concerned for the betterment of all of society that one can truly help his fellow man. One vision guiding all is the only successful way to ensure the happiness of all. In this, though, you know you are fortunate. As you are learning to be a knight, you know that your Lady-to-be Rhaena Olwak is in Myrken learning to guide and foster the hearts of all those before her.

Elliot blinked and looked out to the crowd, to the large man most of all. This would just not do. So he followed, a little frown on his face. He should have been bright red but in a situation like this, his code took over, and he followed it,"I think, if I may, my Lady, Mister Catch is confused because he doesn't understand the idea behind fealty. It's true. It's an idea that is quite rare here in Myrken Wood. I've pledged myself to the Lady Olwak, so that she is my Lady and I am her vassal. It is through a level of mutual..." and he'd look to Rhaena for a moment before pushing past his momentary hesitation, "admiration, but it is an agreement of obligations. She guides and protects my vision, my well-being, my soul, my grander moral needs, and I in turn serve as her most loyal knight." He would be close to Catch now, would try to put a hand upon his arm, kindly. There was a warm smile on his face. "It's alright to be confused, Mister Catch. It is a very foreign concept, but one shouldn't just blurt out such things rudely. If you had taken either of us aside and asked, we would have been most glad to explain."
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Re: The Governor's Return

Postby Treadwell » Thu Jun 27, 2013 2:55 am

Two songs. Two lazy, large spins on the ballroom floor. That's about all the Treadwells--particular the Councilor--have in them before they both agree that, at their sixty-eight years, they are getting far too old for such.

That, and Aloisius is already grumbling to Alice that he's hungry.

"That isn't anything new. If you go over to that buffet, Aloisius, there won't be any left for anyone else! I saw what you did to your toy shop's kitchen when you left the hospital. Not a bit left in it!"

"But Alice. . . ."

Beady eyes squint longingly for the spread on a table just a few feet away. Potatoey snout wriggles and sniffs, picking up the faintest of scents despite being deadened considerably by years of Treadwell's pipe smoking.

"Well, if I can't eat, mmph mmph, can I at least sit somewhere, love?"

"There isn't a couch here big enough for the both of us, and there aren't any chairs that look sturdy enough. You don't want to be dumped to the floor, do you?"

"It's happened often enough."

"Besides, the children are at home, and I still need to feed the babies before we go to bed."

The Councilor sighs and nods. Alice is a mother many times over at his doing. He knows quite well that she needs to feed the twin babies; even in a night of merriment and excess, he can't help feeling phantom bumps in the middle and slight ghostly tugs at the breasts of mothers all around Amasynia and Myrken Wood, or struggling to keep hidden a gleeful pride in the feasting and mating of the pigs at the distant Church of Tubbius across the town, or simply wanting to slump into his seat in his carriage and sleepily attend to gently urging plants to continue their slow growth.

But for now, and forever, he hungers, and his beloved, mortal wife is keeping the Glutton well clear of the buffet table, its existence and overabundance teasing and tantalizing him, even as Alice Treadwell leads her husband one wobbly, cane-aided step at a time for the front exit and out to their carriage and waiting horse and driver, excusing themselves for the night.
"Looks like a table to me. Do you think it could hold up someone as bulbous as Treadwell?" -- Dr. Brennan, Myrken Wood Rememdium Edificium
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Re: The Governor's Return

Postby Guppy » Thu Jun 27, 2013 3:40 am

The girl found herself captured within a net and she had deep concerns about just how fathomless she would find it. The creature at the back of her thoughts did not seem remotely worried, however. The invitation to the gala had given her the freedom to come or go as she wished, but she felt Rhaena's noose around her neck and knew that it was best to attend. The woman would want, no doubt, to show off her newest collared pet. She found herself among the nicely-dressed, smoldering with such anger that made It sigh with pleasure. The girl stood by her lonesome near the food and glared at the others gathered to celebrate the return of the Governor. Annoyance pricking at her belly, she longed for a hole to open in the middle of the floor to swallow them all. The brooding wildling looked on, dismay tugging at her. All was lost in this gilded cage and she felt so powerless.

Greta, who had come to dress her again, had informed her that she looked best in blue. A message that she presumed was passed on from her Lady. In a rather small show of rebellion, she had chosen instead a lovely gown of deep red that nicely complimented her fair features. Of course, of course there were ruffles. Why did the Lady think that she liked ruffles, anyway? The neckline was a little lower than she was accustomed, but Greta said that it was not improper. Not that the whelp cared much for propriety. Her hair was curled, worn up and away from her neck so that the rune that had been cut and clawed into the skin with her own nails would be readily visible to onlookers. Proud of the mark. Another small rebellion. How dare they seek to change her?

Once she found herself alone and Greta had taken her leave, she had affixed her hunting dagger to her thigh - high within the confines of the cloth of her dress. One never knew. The final act of defiance was small bracelet made of small creatures' bones that she had strung together as if they were pearls. An entire spine of some small mammal stood upon her wrist; the skull at its center.

She watched the interactions silently, feeling more along among all of these people than she ever had before.
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Re: The Governor's Return

Postby catch » Thu Jun 27, 2013 4:26 am

It was not a thing that a Good Citizen should say. It was not proper. It was rude. But Catch did not flush. He did not stammer an apology. His eyes are almost keen, almost an intelligence, a lurking bit of something in colors that were pinpricked in excitement, in overwhelming stimuli. Dashing and admirable. Smart. There is a Cherny at his elbow, a Ser Elliot by his Lady, a Ser Kals glaring from across the way.

"I'll say what I wish," Catch will tell them, archly, pulling himself together so that he may be taller than them both. He informs them of this with all the pomp of a toddler-child, a spoiled toddler-child, one of the tow-headed darlings of the bigger houses who may order the servants. He had the words of a toddler, as well, and Ser Elliot's words had set his mind to spinning by the sheer number of them, so that he was doubly-cross, both by Rhaena's gentle tone and all of Elliot's words-and-tone.

"I've been in you, too, you know. I've been inside," he says, and he dares to reach out, his strong, scarred fingers gripping for her hand - the beautiful, shimmering hand that he had created.

a birthday, with puppets of a Fat Man and a many-mouthed Thing

"I'm Whole, now, and I d-d-d-don't need you. Or you, Ser Elliot. I'm Whole, and I'll - I'll do whatever I wish." And despite the glibness, the confidence and rude mastery of which he spoke, it took more than a mort of courage, and his limbs are prevented from shaking by the feel of the great horn at his back.
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Outside, the Boot-Blacker

Postby Rance » Thu Jun 27, 2013 4:57 am

Outside, the boot-blacker
blackened boots, he blackened boots
(it must not be forgotten the vanity of men and their wives
wherewith their lives have scarcely a cheer
except this: a ball, here, in Myrkentown!
Where music chimes in the air and wine
The wine!
One man:"--Down, drink it down, a Derry red!"
And his friend:
"A white from who knows where, but
drink it, fool."
"And where has he been?" they ask on the avenue.
"To Xanth Grange, to the lands beyond."
And another: "No, that's not quite right."
"Then where?"
To Raza-son!
To Raza-son!
"So let us dance until our brains are full with drink
and our bellies belch a song,
and we stagger our way back home, back home,
for we'll return to our haggard ways, our farming ways!"
Stagger, fall, lay down, stumble, stall--
laymen and poor men, impoverished, all)

The streets were lit with crackling torches, an invitation,
For in the night, a journey--
Celebrate the return of our beloved Glenn Burnie!

Traders, jewelers, entrepreneurs of every shade
Lined the way to sell their wares,
for where expensive tastes intersected
and gave birth to balls and dances,
purses wanted for emptying, vices wanted for
satisfying.
"A necklace for you, lady, before you enter the ball!"
"A fine new blouse, good ser, the finest of them all!"
"Discounted snuff, but a pinch, half-priced!"
"A bouquet for to match your dress, sera--?"
And one fine-gowned girl turned her head
once, then twice.

And he, one of them,
in saggy-brimmed hat and peculiar veil,
he blackened boots for passers-by.

With boot-black hands
he stank sickly-sweet of dubbin and tallow.
Shallow task, the blacking of boots,
asking naught for a favor returned
except a shilling or two
for the finest polished boots,
"The trickery exists not in the substance,
but the filling," he told one willing ball-goer
who'd given two pence from white hand
into boot-blackened black-palm
for a quick snap of rag and clever shine.
"Mine," the boot-blacker told, "is to use a dash of ash,
mix it right in with the wax, and you ask
just how I can ascertain so smooth a sheen,
gain so clear a gleam?
"Many years I've seen, never kneeling like this
in the front of a man, but making men kneel to me
that they might shine my boots
with a kiss or two to the tips of my toes,
and who knows, who's to say
I only blacken boots today, and tomorrow--

"Why, tomorrow is another day."

And he, one of them,
in saggy-brimmed hat and peculiar veil
outside
he blackened boots for passers-by.
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Re: The Governor's Return

Postby Cherny » Thu Jun 27, 2013 6:14 am

Despite his childish attempts at fine clothes and fancy airs Cherny is a mere mill-boy, spending his days hauling sacks of grain amid the creaking rumble of turning wheels and stones; this room, meanwhile, is filled with Myrken Wood's great and good, lords and ladies garbed in outfits that he'd never afford if he toiled for a full year. Now they are turning to Catch and the Governor's lady, brows raised and lips a-murmur at the things said, and the tickling wine sours in the boy's belly as he begins to understand that he is entirely out of his depth.

"S-ser Catch." He is an errant inkblot amid a sea of radiant colour and shining silk, a hoarse little voice and insistent little touch at the madman's wrist, plucking at his cuff in the keen desire to draw his friend away before he says any more.

Sera Olwak chides her accuser with smiling questions of Good Citizenry; Elliot Brown-Gahald says much more, a tide of words delivered in a tone of patient explanation, and the boy winces inwardly at both of them, for he recognises Catch's mood, the haughtiness, the clarity, the defiance stated without stutter or stammer. His manner is lofty, petulant, dangerous, and they speak to him like an idiot child to be cajoled with sugared voice and honeyed smile. They condescend, and in so doing only provoke him further. It might have been better if they'd taken umbrage at his words rather than dismissing them as childish babble, as at least that might show the man that he is taken seriously.

"Ser C-catch, Milord." Raising his voice more insistently, ducking his head politely to Sera Olwak and her knight before his attention returns to his friend; the boy's tone and bearing are of one who respectfully addresses a peer, politely alerting him to a matter of interest. "S-ser Catch. There are c-cakes that, that r-request your attention." A meaningful lift of brows and tilt of his head to where a plate of delicate honey-pastries await, demurely veiled in sugar-dust and spices.
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Re: The Governor's Return

Postby Jirai » Thu Jun 27, 2013 10:40 am

"Whole, are you? I am sure you are quite happy in that case, is that right?"

He reached out and she was moving, drawing that gloved hand back. A beautiful hand, yes, one that he had created - a memory, along with that of the birthday, that she prefers to not be reminded of. Cherny's arrival is greeted with a careful nod, appreciative of the millboy's attempt to distract the madman.
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Re: The Governor's Return

Postby Glenn » Thu Jun 27, 2013 11:43 am

The Lady Olwak deferred to young Cherny here and Elliot did as well, smiling a little to the lad for his inventiveness and expertise in this situation. He could have gone on with more words and an attempt to placate the madman, but instead he moved in towards Miss Whelp, trying to guide her closer to the center of the room so that he wouldn't have to go too far from his Lady if something were to happen. "Blue suits you, Miss Whelp," he said with a polite smile, holding out a hand to the caged wildling. She was no Miss Dhrin, of course, but she cleaned up well, much as he once had. Another week or two and Greta might have her looking more than just pleasant. "I was wondering if you might want to dance?" She was his to look after and to show the wonders of a new, better world that she could have only brushed against before. He would perform his task with an honest, enjoying smile.
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Re: The Governor's Return

Postby Guppy » Thu Jun 27, 2013 1:25 pm

She stood, glaring out at the world, and suddenly there was a Knight at her elbow. She may have looked the part of a lovely lady, but her expression was dark and her stance was slightly cowed. Both of which ruined the effect a little. His hand came to gently guide her towards the center of the room so that he could be closer to Lady Olwak. For just a moment, her heels dug into the floor and she narrowed her eyes in obstinate fashion. Then, his gentle pressure and the warmth of his touch made her relent with slumped shoulders. His compliment was noted and disregarded as mere politeness on his part.

"How do you deal with this?," she asked as she peered around the room at the others. If Elliot took care to notice such things, he would see that his mere presence at her side had resolved some of her unladylike mannerisms. She was not scowling darkly at everyone any longer. She was not hunched over as if she wanted very much to vanish into thin air. Whatever history they shared (or the Witch enchanted between them, depending on who you asked), seemed to make her feel very much at ease with him. "It is as if we are favored pets, trotted out to do tricks," she complained, shooting him a pointed look. "You much more so than I."

He asked her to dance and her cheeks immediately colored. He had embarrassed the young woman, quite thoroughly. Her mouth gaped and worked like a fish's for a moment as she stared at him. Until finally, she managed to choke out some words. "Dance? Do you honestly believe that I know how to dance?," she asked, her tone incredulous. "It does. Do you want me to ask her to join us?" Of course she knew the answer to that question. "Anyway, why would you want to dance with me?"
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