A Few Small Things..

A Few Small Things..

Postby SinVraal » Mon May 21, 2007 4:16 pm

Vraal sat within his room at the Broken Dagger. Tapered, long fingers toyed with the length of a quil as it hovered just above the small pot of ink. The occasional spring breeze carressed his pale, angular countenance of harsh, calculating lines and angles. He allowed himself a small smile at these simple, fleshly pleasures: the feel of the quil, the lively scent of the air, the sound of chirping birds and the wind amongst the trees.

"Dear Madame Swinton," he began in a slow, elegantly curved hand. The calligraphy came to him at but a moment's recollection as he dryly scratched his message upon the virgin parchment.

"Rumors of those dreadful remaining inhabitants, who have taken advantage of your goodwill and hospitality, has reached my ears. I find the whole matter apalling and you have my sympathies.

I have some news, however, that might cheer you.

A small shipment of rather exotic teas has reached me here in Myrkenwood and I would be delighted if you would showcase them in your tea house. They are of a particular blend that, unless I am mistaken, you do not currently serve. The particular ingredients are unknown to me. Perhaps in the future we might share a cup and puzzle out the mixture between the two of us?

I also took the liberty of acquiring more of those delightful red candles that you used to keep in your windows.

You should find both in the small box accompanying this message and messenger. If there is anything else I mgiht do for you, Madame, do not hesitate to ask.

Sincerely,
Sin'Vraal"

He included his full name with a flourish. With any luck she might conclude the appelation "Sin" to be merely some form of foreign title. And if she didn't, he considered as he drew back from the desk and shut the window so as to prevent the parchment from blowing about the room, then it would make no difference regardless.

He slipped the package, message and a pair of coins to a young lad and bid him to make haste to Swinton's tea house.
If you are near to the dark
I will tell you about the sun
You are here, no escape
From my visions of the world
You will cry, all alone
But it does not mean a thing to me...
SinVraal
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Posts: 74
Joined: Sat Apr 28, 2007 10:29 am

received.

Postby Wendy » Thu May 24, 2007 5:31 pm

"Dear Madame Swinton," it began in a slow, elegantly curved hand.

Cambree Swinton's eyes trained on the script and followed it. She moved through a crowd of people who also suffered from the hot afternoon.

The constables were doing their best to escort the lazy, shiftless people from the tearoom. A concerned brow curved higher as she read that news of the unfortunate circumstance had spread.

"I have some news, however, that might cheer you."

Squinting out the sunlight, she had a look around. Seeta was safely outside, but Lavender had marched right in, insisting that she would have a bath and a change of clothes, longing for her bed. The Madame hadn't time to stop her from disappearing into the sea of uniformed men. She was at least fifteen feet from the others who were waiting outdoors. The mouth of the Teahouse was open, coughing up "assisted" scoundrels. A scowl spoiled the appearance of dignity on her face.

"I have some news, however, that might cheer you." she read. Strained shoulders were ready for good news. The letter drew her attention away from the ruckus at her suffering business.

A small smile formed at the suggestion of receiving reinforcements. Tea and candles were of avail, but was there payback? The small box of essentials was tucked beneath her arm, and cued by the letter, she arranged her hold on it so that she could look inside.

It was a considerate gift to have sent. Of course, she had no way of penning a reply. His chosen courier was waiting around by the teahouse, seemingly engrossed in attempting to catch Seeta's eye. Seeing Seeta was a reminder that Lavender was still inside the building. The girl would have found a locked door and probably assume the worst. The Madame touched at the place of her clothes where the room key was hidden.

Only recently had her residency in Myrken Wood seen such enduring chaos. Is this what living away from the islands was going to be like? The Madame looked into the box again. Tickling scents of loose, white leaves and ...was it blue lotus? penetrated her senses. She closed the box to preserve these things, but would later find the candles.

"Messenger," she called across the way, utterly willing to upset the antics he was choosing in order to gain Seeta's approval, "I need you to do me the favor of returning a verbal reply."

The courier ambled forth and she told his ear that Vraal could be a first among guests received at the tearoom once it had been cleared of. She balanced a box of tea and candles, as well the letter, so that she could offer coins for this delivery. It took some managing, but he was paid and ...walking back to Seeta.

If Vraal's courier was any good, he would soon hear her response.
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Wendy
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Postby SinVraal » Tue May 29, 2007 4:46 am

The simple things, Sin'Vraal considered, were occasionally the most pleasurable. It was conceivable, he mused, to blanket all of his infernal home with the thunderous roar of some unearthly voice bellowing commands. It was more than possible to unleash a taste of that home when challenged here by some pitiful, snivelling worm possessed of nothing more than a bit of pointed steel and an overinflated sense of one's own courage. SUch thoughts reminded him of his errant servant. Even this coup had taken place through a thunderous stampeding of cattle.

There was also the whisper in the night that enslaved hearts to fear, passion and ill intent. There was a soft wind that brought a scent of spring, or autumn, that inspired more than mere rhetoric ever could. There was power in silence, and stillness, that did not echo and bleed but only struck straight and true into the heart.

The pen, he agreed, was mightier than the sword. Taking up the pen, he tasted the ink with its tip and began to scratch out another letter to the beleagured Madame Swinton.

-

Dear Madame Swinton,

I am glad that my present was delivered in an undisturbed state. I would also be most pleased to accept your invitation and enjoy your hospitality.

Word has reached me of there being a distinct lack of certain necessities for life amongst some of the populace. Mutterings, to be sure, but isn't that how such things begin?

Before we face another potential crisis, I intend to bend my will and resources towards countering what I can of this great suffering that may loom upon the horizon. If I prove difficult to reach in the near future it will only be due to my zealousness to alleviate what discomfort the gods allow me to.

You may still reach me at this address. I hope that our fine constabulary has been effective enough to remove the ungrateful swine from your parlors.

Sincerely,

Sin'Vraal

-

He set the letter aside and placed one of his ornamentations upon the parchment to prevent it from curling upon itself or submitting to the occasional gust of wind that might ruin his correspondance. He scanned the letter with obsidian eyes and, pleased that he had included enough small details, and allowed the smile to slither over his lips. There were other letters to write, he considered as he drew away from the table to stretch his legs, as well as other plans to lay and other problems to consider given the failure of one of his servants.

He regarded the paperweight with some disdain at this latest thought. The paperweight, in actuality a bangle of sorts, was a silver serpent fashioned to be worn about the elbows.
If you are near to the dark
I will tell you about the sun
You are here, no escape
From my visions of the world
You will cry, all alone
But it does not mean a thing to me...
SinVraal
Member
 
Posts: 74
Joined: Sat Apr 28, 2007 10:29 am

Postby Wendy » Wed Jun 06, 2007 2:12 am

It seemed as though the world would not relent in its coming toward her. Missives, questions and needs circulated themselves into her hours and she did her best to see them filtered out. It was becoming her very breath to be needed by others: bloodsoaked strangers, girls in distress, unsheltered miscreants, and even gracious friends who did not wish to be of burden.

Over at the Dagger, Vraal made his camp. By the look of his writing, and the tone of his message, he was victoriously easing into the setting of Myrken Wood. Her own artful hand could only produce scribble of late. The Madame admired the fine example of this man's educated hand as she read.

She sat on her bed while looking over the brief letter. Relief bent her spine as she realized this was merely an informative note that contained no requirements of her. The simple acceptance of her invitation to tea gave the Madame a reason to smile that was not associated with a drudgery.

Hopefully, Vraal was not expecting an immediate reply because it wouldn't come until the tearoom's reconstruction. By then she would be able to get her hands on a mere bottle of ink. The Madame made plans to send Vraal an invitation once cleanup was complete. At least his courier could tell him that the woman received his letter.
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