The Engagement Ceremony of Viatorus and Ingirun

[votivescholars]

Welcome to the world of the Durants...

Guests from the Nexus are met by an Isidor who is still dressed for business when she PINpoints them directly to the venue. She is on a mission and pleasantries are swiftly exchanged so that she can give instructions and explain how the day is going to go. The first thing to hit them is that it's hot, and bright. They are now in France, Isidor tells them, her narrative changes appropriately as she leads them from the small stone building, through immaculate gardens and towards a sprawling palace which she insists is small for what it is. This is the home of Gnonyma Durant, her grandmother. A 17th Century French palace once owned by royalty but was gifted to her family as thanks for 'a service' which Isidor says was so private that even the mage's journal doesn't detail what it was. 

The air is dry and still, which makes the cool shade of indoors a pleasant relief. Like the ornate facade, the interior of the building is lined with intricate mouldings; decorated with impressive portraits; painted in bright, colourful shades; and filled with flowers and draping fabric. There is plenty of space, a fact emphasised by tiled floors that amplify each step and word. It looks as though almost every room is being used, from the way all the doors are held open for the steady flow of traffic. They are, however, let through the building and out another door. It's the quickest way to where seats sit lined up to face a gazebo decorated with ribbons and flowers that stands in front of a pond that might as well be a lake. Some people might notice the air above them ripple slightly, which certainly has nothing to do with the perfectly ornate poles at each corner of the seating area. 

There are already plenty of people milling about. Servants stride from one place to another, expertly staying out of the way of the guests. There are some men and women who are dressed well for the occasion, but like the servants they stay out of the way and scan the area repeatedly, making no attempts to engage with the guests - security, judging by their earpieces. Members of the Durant family are easy to spot. They move in groups or pairs, often getting headed off by people looking to talk to them. A large majority of them also sport sashes of either red or purple with gold trim and ornate pins that vary from person to person. This, Isidor explains, is how you spot a patron and an accomplished scholar, based on the red or purple respectively. Viatorus is not yet an accomplished scholar, which is why they have no sashes. Members of Runa's family are equally easy to spot for those that know her. They would be the large group of tall, golden haired men and women with the distinctive Swedish accents happily talking to anyone and everyone.

After guiding them to their seats she tells them that the ceremony will be another twenty minutes and takes her leave to go and sort out the other numerous things on her endless list. Nobody bothers them while they wait. Everyone is too busy spotting old friends or making their way to their seats. It's a good time to enjoy the scenery. There is a small collection of musicians with harps, violins and flutes to one side. Even the breeze is smelling sweet with the perfume of the bouquets.

Within fifteen minutes Viatorus appears in a tailored suit of light grey and deep purple. He is closely followed by an older, stocky looking man in a black suit and purple tie, and sporting a red and black sash that is even more ornate than any others. Whatever the man is saying to him Viatorus barely gets more of a wave of recognition in to his friends before he's being guided to the gazebo and kept there. Shortly after he's joined by a young man and two women with tanned skin and black hair dressed in simple, but high quality clothes of purple, draping fabric. They look as serious as the man beside Viatorus. That is about the time Isidor reappears in more appropriate attire. She in turn heralds the appearance of a woman who shares her features, dressed in elegant gold and black, who is accompanied by a man whose black suit and purple tie are considerably more simple than his purple sash. Its intricacy matches that of the red one worn by the man standing next to Viatorus. The mood seems to shift at the appearance of these last two guests, becoming quieter, expectant. The Durants gather together, and Viatorus' fidgeting increases tenfold as they exchange words. The men with the sashes and the woman in gold take their seats, many of the guests follow suit.

The ceremony begins...

The young man in purple walks with his staff to stand at the head of the aisle and asks that everyone takes their seats. Exactly twenty minutes after the Nexus guests were shown their seats, the ceremony begins. The young man introduces himself as the high priest of Despoina and welcomes them to the union of the two families Durant and Nyström. As it is a ceremony to mark the union of two families with two sets of tradition and two sets of gods to honour, this will be a merging of these two cultures. It will be a handfasting ceremony of the Old Ways, he explains. This means that the couple will be as man and wife for a year and a day, and after that time they must choose if they wish to marry or separate. The guests now better informed, the priest stands back under the gazebo where a nervous Viatorus and patient Isidor stand waiting. On cue, the musicians start playing unfamiliar, but pleasant music to introduce the arrival of Ingirun dressed in white and accompanied by a rounded, red cheeked man, and followed by a woman who must certainly be one of her sisters. Once she was beside Viatorus, Ingirun's father sat down and the ceremony began. 

The priest talked of uniting the two families, naming the virtues of both, as he got the bride-and-groom-to-be to hold hands which he bound in ribbons. He then took them through their vows before invoking the gods and goddesses to bless the union. The mixture of Greek and Norse deities made for a complicated blessing that might have been compared to seeking the approval of two powerful families. With wishes given, the priest unwrapped their hands and had the betrothed drink from the same cup. All in all it was a short ceremony as ceremonies go. A few more blessings were given and then the couple were prompted to kiss to seal the pact, which a bright red Viatorus did, very timidly. Luckily that only made Runa beam more brightly than she already was.

Dinner was in a large hall with close family at the head of the room and everyone else seated at round tables. Every position was carefully chosen, of course. The inevitable speeches came from the father of the bride (who rambled joyously about how happy he was to see his daughter with such a fine young man) and the mother of the groom (who gently, warmly, welcomed Runa into the family and spoke of how proud she and his father were). Drinks were plentiful, as were the courses. There were six in total with a selection of each: Appetisers, soup, fish, the main course, dessert, and a palate cleanser. No one will be going hungry tonight, that's a certainty.

After dinner it's Isidor who stands to say a few last words. She thanks everyone for coming and instructs them to enjoy the evening and all the festivities which "will go on at least until dawn". With that, guests are bid to go and enjoy the entertainment filling the palace.

And now for the party...

There isn't a single place that isn't being used for the party. The gardens have pleasant music playing in them, chairs and tables laid out  with cushions and blankets for people to lounge in. One of the largest halls is set out for dancers and their spectators to enjoy live musicians that will play ballroom music for the first part of the evening and be replaced by a band that plays modern music for the second. There is a small room of bookshelves and leather armchairs where men congregate to sip whiskey. Rooms with couches and chairs have people moving in and out of them joining and starting conversations. The priest tends to three statues of goddesses that stand at the end of one room. Here he collects gifts and offerings for the couple's happy future. A man with a perfect smile enthralls a crowd with stories that are only exciting because of the way he tells them. A demure woman facilitates a conversation between straight backed men with chiseled features and shorter tanned men who look equally as disciplined. Servants are found throughout, bringing drinks and snacks to anyone who asks or so much as looks as if they're considering either.

((Feel free to backtag, threadhop, start threads, look for more NPCs, whatever you like! If you're unsure of something, looking for more details, or want to plot then you know the drill - Send a message my way and we'll chat!

Note about gifts: It will say on your character's invitation that gifts are optional and it is suggested that a gift to the gods/goddesses would be more than suitable instead.))

✣ · ✣ · ✣ · ✣

The Nyströms  |   Hephaestia  |  The Archon, Liselotte & Stathis  | The Priest  | Oraskis - The Seer  
Lieselotte or Stathis  |  Poenia & Sagyne  |  Harrowheart & Anna  |  Adia  | Felix & Jim | Evening Event | Isidor | Klaus

 

Comments

[westfallcorndog]

What she says humbles him into a quiet stupor. His mere friendship with her son and daughter makes Mrs. Durant so appreciative, who he is isn't a point of shame to her, and... And he impresses Isidor? His face shifts through a kaleidoscope of emotions – honor, shock, flickers of guilty introspection. Finally he settles on a smile that's far too warm for a cold face.

He tries to say something but finds himself still emotional. Instead he cups his cheek with one gloved hand and merely continues smiling at her as if she were his own mother.

Finally he says, his voice very quiet, "I can't believe I was scared to talk to you." He folds his arms in front of his belt and finds that when his cheek is free his smile only grows. "I was so afraid of what to say. I thought you might not like me. I thought I oughta impress you – Viatorus has been teachin' me German, and I thought if I spoke it to you it might make you like me a little more. But then I worried that if I wasn't perfect, maybe you'd think I was stupid, or the same as everyone else who's probably always tryin' to impress you."

He whispers a little laugh and shakes his head. It's obvious in hindsight that she wouldn't have thought that, or at the very least wouldn't have expressed it. A few moments of silently inspecting her face pass before he huffs a single laugh and realizes, "I guess I missed my chance to make a joke about how far I came from my beginnings, huh? It woulda been funny, since I'm from another world and all."

And having said that he leans in slightly so that he doesn't tower over her, though he doesn't look too eloquent posed with his hands on his legs as he bends to close those few inches between them. "Which reminds me: Did you get the gift I sent you? The little model airship?"

[votivescholars]

Although she is face to face with a rather tall, imposing undead being, Lieselotte's expression remains warm and calm. When he mentions learning German he gets a fond, approving look, but she doesn't interrupt except with a small breath of laughter at his mention of a joke.

She pauses when he asks about his gift. "Yes I did." Then her smile returns and she rests a hand on his arm. "May I show you? It was a bit of a challenge. I've never seen anything like it before. Would you check that I assembled it properly?"

Gods forbid a German would follow instructions incorrectly. She'd never live with the shame.

[westfallcorndog]

She touched him! Touching is now on the table. This little detail does not go unnoticed. He's quick to nod in all eagerness at her offer. "Of course, Mrs. Durant, I'd love to see it. If it's not perfect, maybe we can fix it together? Or," and he seems to like this idea more, "Leave it just the way it is. You made it how you made it, and what matters most is that you had a little fun with it."

[votivescholars]

"You're too kind, Harrowheart. It's this way." A hand gently touches his elbow to guide him ever so slightly as she leads him through the manor. With her help they're quick to leave the crowds and find themselves in the quieter corridors. They only see a handful of servants hurrying to and from the main party.

They go upstairs and in through double doors into a private parlor with luxurious leather chairs a shelves filled to the brim with books. Lieselotte brings him to a desk at the side where the model airship sits pride of place. It is meticulously assembled. Clearly she took a great amount of care with each piece. She gestures to it with an open palm to offer it for Harrowheart's inspection.

"What do you think? Did I do it justice?"

[westfallcorndog]

Finally being so far from the crowd is the greatest relief. Fewer sounds, fewer smells, fewer uncomfortable looks. He follows gladly, quiet, keeping his hands and his eyes to himself despite his great urge to explore this new, secret part of the mansion.

When they arrive in the room his eyes widen with surprise at what he sees. Not only did she assemble it – and perfectly, it seems! – but she's set it someplace so prominent. He expected it to be hidden away on a shelf, if it was actually assembled at all.

Harrowheart looks to Lieselotte before he kneels down to inspect the ship. It hovers on its pedestal just as it should. He looks at its propellers from below, leans to see it from the side, then stands so that he can peer down at the deck and the roof of the cabin.

Finally he nods at Lieselotte. "It's perfect. Honest, I'm not just sayin' that. I ain't ever been on one, but when I was in the army I saw the very first one of its kind flyin' overhead."

He looks between the model and Mrs. Durant a few times before he asks, hopeful and ignorant, "Did your husband help?"

[votivescholars]

Far from hidden, the model is pride of place on a cabinet to one side, visible from all angles of the room. "That's good to know."

Lieselotte's eyes shift to one side in response to the question. For any of Harrowheart's other friends it might not have been a question worth more than a second of consideration, but for her everything is. "He... supervised."

She takes a step closer so that she can be beside Harrowheart as they inspect the ship. "It's a war machine isn't it? We don't have anything quite like it in this world. Similar concepts, but... nothing like it."

[westfallcorndog]

Supervised? That's a strange word to choose. And she did choose it – he saw that brief moment she dedicated to searching her mind for the right word. His lips press into a thin line as he tries for a sympathetic smile, and though it might be too personal he reaches out to touch her arm in the same way she had touched his earlier.

"It is a war machine," he says. "I realized after I bought it that it might send the wrong sorta message. But war is a part of everyone's life on my world. Wasn't always like that, but it's hard to remember the days when things were peaceful."

He inclines his head at Lieselotte and says, "It's a very different place than Earth. If I can be real forward... It took me a while to come to terms with how different y'all's life is. It's takin' time, but I'm tryin' to learn. Tryin' to be gracious and glad for y'all. Still, it's..."

He gestures vaguely to the room around them, looking guilty for what he's saying even as he continues on speaking. "When I go home to Azeroth, it's nothin' like this. Bounties, parties, fancy get-ups. Nobody on edge, except as much as they're waitin' for someone to be rude to them. Which – I-I mean, I ain't tryin' to make you feel bad about it! No, no. It's just..." He chuckles uncomfortably as he admits, "I really did come a long way to be here, Mrs. Durant. To come to terms with the differences between your world and mine. Between you and your children and me. It's been a long journey. That's all I'm tryin' to say, even if I maybe ain't well-worded enough to say it how I'd like."

[votivescholars]

The way she listens with such careful attentiveness, Lieselotte might well be any polite woman talking to an ordinary man. Even as he stumbles through his explanation, she gives him as much time as he needs. Her brow lifts and her smile widens at any point he looks like he might need some encouragement, but she doesn't so much as hint at interrupting.

"I believe you, Harrowheart," she says softly and with a gentle smile. She leaves him a moment with that assurance before she continues. "If I might say... This world has its wars. It always has, and I believe it always will. From what Isidor has told me, war is far more extensive in your world, but we do have it too. For some people at this party it is in their very neighbourhood. Isidor and Viatorus are fortunate enough to be far, far away from all of it, for which I thank the gods."

A small glance around at their surroundings and then she lowers her voice. "And in this world, peace is tenuous. It is so fragile. I can only imagine how this decadence must look to you, but to us it is its own battlefield. The game is different, but the stakes remain the same. In places like this events could be set in motion to start wars, or to end them."

She meets his gaze again. "It is worlds apart from what you know, but we are not so different, Harrowheart. In the end we all just want our families to be safe and happy."

[westfallcorndog]

Of all the things Lieselotte says, the one that visibly surprises Harrowheart is her suggestion that war is waging in the very cities some of tonight's attendees call home. His eyebrows rise and he listens much more closely after that, quiet and respectful yet attentive as can be.

When she's through he remains still for a moment as if he expects to hear more, but eventually he flashes the smallest of well-mannered smiles and inclines his head respectfully. "That's what I learned from Isidor," he says softly. "Everywhere you go, different worlds or different classes, everybody just wants that one thing."

Then his quiet confidence cracks, and for a moment he seems unsure of himself. He presses his palms together and watches Lieselotte's face worriedly until he comes to the conclusion that he can say what he'd like to.

"I know family's a real special thing to y'all... So I hope it ain't offensive and ain't too forward to say: I think of Viatorus and Isidor as part of my family, too. I know a mother worries when her children are away, but if it makes you feel any better at all... When they're in that other place? That in-between world where they met me? I try to make sure they get a chance at what I didn't always have. Safety and happiness."

A little laugh bubbles out of him and he can't help but admit, "Sometimes I mess up the happiness part, but at least I've kept 'em safe. And I'd better. What's the point of bein' a knight with a magical sword if I can't protect a prince and princess, huh?" He winks, and continues in a hushed voice, as if someone might be listening, "And maybe a queen, too? If she ever, I don't know... Got it in her mind that she wanted to visit a far away world of magic and adventure with company instead of supervision..."

[votivescholars]

Throughout their conversation, Lieselotte has kept that perfectly welcoming smile of hers in place, but when Harrowheart says he thinks of her children as family it fades away into consideration. She forgets she's stopped smiling until Harrowheart makes his playful offer.

"You beat me to it." Lieselotte laughs and looks away briefly before smiling at him again. "While we were alone I'd wanted to talk to you about that place, about my children being there."

She hesitates as she picks her words, and then gestures to him. "You are clearly a man who knows the dangers of the world. I know you have your own family to protect, but... I do worry about them."

"The last mage who had Viatorus' skills died in another world, and his patron followed him soon after. I have a duty to my husband, but it was some small consolation that my children were never too far from me. In this 'Nexus'... It has changed things." She takes a breath and tilts her chin up, but the crease in her brow betrays the weight of the pride she shows. "It might be imperious of me, but I must ask you, in person, if you will protect Viatorus and Isidor. I must know, honestly, how far you will go to keep them safe."

[westfallcorndog]

The last dreamwalker died? Harrowheart's brow twitches as memories of Isidor's conversation with him creep to the front of his mind. The things her brother had been chased by, the torment he couldn't escape. It must be no great confidence to Lieselotte to see him looking so uncertain, so worried.

And yet when she poses that final question he nods curtly with great surety.

"I'd say I'd kill for them, but that wouldn't mean much." He doesn't elaborate; Lieselotte must understand.

"I'd say I'd follow them anywhere they need me, but I can't dream, so I can't keep your son safe there."

In the following silence he stops to think. Not to think about what he has to say, because he knows that. Rather, he spends his time organizing his words and his thoughts, because he can't afford to misspeak here.

"When I was alive, I didn't have a future to look forward to. I didn't have any children, or any legacies, or any dreams. I didn't have friends or lovers to keep me goin'. My life didn't have much of a purpose. So when my time came to go, I wasn't afraid. Things were over for me, and I accepted that."

"When I died, I never expected I'd be facin' a future of livin' forever. Feelin' emotions without anyone to share 'em with. I was... Very lonely for years. Even after I rejoined my family, I didn't have a reason to see tomorrow."

He smiles then, hopeful for what he's about to say and yet guilty for everything he's already told her. "But then I met your son and daughter. And I didn't like 'em much that first time we met, but now... Now I got a good reason to look forward to every new day. They give me somethin' I never had in life. I'm grateful beyond words that I met your children, Mrs. Durant."

His slight smile fades away then. Quietly he concludes, "But I know they're mortal, and I'm not. They and I could be friends their entire lives, but one day they'll die and I'll... Still be here. And I don't like that idea, Mrs. Durant. I don't wanna go into a future without the people who mean so much to me. I don't wanna go back to the loneliness I used to know. So I can say with all confidence that if it came right down to it? I'd die for 'em, too."

[votivescholars]

It seems that smiling has no place here. The seriousness of the topic is clear from the look on her face once her polite pleasantness fades completely. She waits for him to choose his words and explain, in detail, where his thoughts are. It's better like this. It allows her to understand him more thoroughly, and that is something she appreciates immensely.

Once he's finished, she nods, accepting his answer while giving it the respect it deserves. "I appreciate that more than words can express."

The silence sits in the room for a minute, and Lieselotte sets her glass on a table. "Isidor is one of the most powerful, most talented martial casters I have ever known. But even she needs someone to look out for her as she looks out for her brother." She folds her hands in front of her and turns to look Harrowheart in the eye. "We are a fiercely loyal people. What we receive, we return in equal measure. Everything you have said assures me that Isidor and Viatorus were right about you. They both regard you very highly, and I believe so shall I. If there is ever anything you need, or want, for any reason, for them or your own family, tell me. I would be glad to help."

[westfallcorndog]

Harrowheart reaches out and carefully rests his fingertips on Lieselotte's forearm. He smiles softly and begins to shake his head. "It means a lot that you're offerin' this, Ma'am, honest. And I don't mean to sound ungracious, really, but I don't need any kinda payback for doin' what's right by my friends. Maybe some day, but not today. I guess all I really ask is that you keep an open mind?"

He pats her arm before he lets her go, and with a nod says, "Which I don't think oughta be too hard. You already gave me more of a chance than I thought I'd get. And I appreciate that more than you know. You just... Bein' nice with me and all."

Harrowheart glances at the door then, certain that it's nearly time to return to the party. Ah! But he turns his attention back quickly and says, "Maybe there is one little favor you could help me with? Could you... Put in a good word with Stathis? Bein' honest, I've been scared to talk with him. Isidor told me he's real business-minded, likes to have a point to every conversation, and I know my thoughts kinda... Wander..."

He frowns, but it's the frown of a man hiding a smile.

[votivescholars]

Her eyebrows tilt upwards in a frown that might be sad, or concerned, or confused, but with her kind and gentle face it's very hard to tell which it might be. The request he does come up with gets a genuine smile. She stops shy of laughing but that may be because of her nodding.

"I can." She sighs then and smiles at Harrowheart. "Don't be intimidated by Stathis. If you can get along with Isidor, then you will be fine with him... But don't take any silence to mean anything. Both he and Vercor are men of few words, but they are both insightful people."

[westfallcorndog]

"Verc...Oh! The Archon!" He has a name? He has a name! This makes him stunningly more human. Harrowheart begins to nod as his attention drifts thoughtfully downward. He blinks, thinking, then looks back at Lieselotte guiltily. "Do you think I should greet him before the night is through? I got the impression I should let him be, but..." His lips thin in an anxious, scrunched expression. "I just don't wanna offend anyone, but he seemed real content to be left alone, so I figured..."

Figured he'd wimp out on that, yeah.

[votivescholars]

Between Harrowheart's realisation and his reluctance, it's difficult for Lieselotte to hide her smile. She pats his arm in gentle understanding.

"Tonight is about Viatorus and Ingirun. If you would like to meet Viatorus' father, then you should, but nobody will be offended if you don't. Many people will be looking to talk to him tonight. He won't be short of company."

[westfallcorndog]

What a relief! Harrowheart relaxes immediately and smiles warmly for Lieselotte, who just gave him the greatest break he's going to be getting tonight, he's sure.

"I'll save it for a quieter night," he says, as if he's only abstaining to be mannerly. "But speakin' of not-so-quiet nights, somethin' tells me folks are gonna be lookin' for you downstairs. Do you think you're ready to go? Or do you want me to keep you hidden up here in peace and quiet for a while?"

[votivescholars]

Avoiding an unpleasant activity while making it sound like politeness? Harrowheart is getting the hang of politics now! Perhaps that's why it's so hard for Lieselotte to suppress her smile. Or perhaps it's his considerate questions.

"It has been a very pleasant break, but I'm ready to go back," she says as she guides them both out of the room and back into the corridor. "Besides, I don't think either of us are the type to avoid our responsibilities, are we?"

They're not far when Lieselotte stops. "I'm going to take a detour to make sure everything is running smoothly. Do you remember your way back? It's not far. Just follow the lights, the music, and the servants."

She makes sure he's happy to be left to walk the last bit alone before taking a different corridor. Some things have to be managed behind the scenes, after all.

This leaves Harrowheart in the dimly lit maze of corridors leading to exceptionally large and luxuriously furnished rooms. The sounds of the party drifting along are the only helpful hints of where to go. When he does start closing in on the main festivities, Harrowheart finds the stairs again. It's here, just as he's about to descend, that a voice pipes up.

"Did you have a nice chat?" The man leans casually against the banister, a glass of red wine clutched in the fingertips of one hand. Harrowheart passed right by there just seconds ago. Did he really not see the man with the gothic suit and long, wavy brown hair? He looks out of place, outdated, and he stares at the death knight with half-lidded eyes and a subtle smile. "Lieselotte is a true lady."

[westfallcorndog]

Harrowheart narrows his eyes when he's singled out by a man that he's fully confident wasn't nearby seconds ago. His nostrils flare, and his first reaction to the surprise is to inhale a lungful of air through his nostrils. Two out of place, outdated men are staring each other down here, though Harrowheart has none of the casual smugness of this stranger.

Slowly, as if he suspects his answer will be highly scrutinized, he replies, "I liked her... She was nicer to me than I expected a lady of her..." He stares blankly at the man for a painfully long while as he tries to find the word. "Status," he finally decides, "to be.

He straightens up then, picking up a slack he didn't realize he had. "Were you hopin' to meet with her? Because I think she went back downstairs..."

[votivescholars]

Despite the long silence the man watches Harrowheart with that same expression, statue-like until Harrowheart finds his words again.

"No, but I know that she was looking forward to talking to you." The accent is a little difficult to place. Eastern European, perhaps, to those acquainted with Earth's accents. "You have caused a stir amongst the mages. People chatter, you know." His eyes slide down to the crowd milling about below and he points a ringed finger down to them. "The Necromancer is particularly excited by your presence here. I heard he put off meeting a prince to be here... Probably a tall tale, but that's what is being said."

[westfallcorndog]

The accent isn't one Harrowheart would be able to guess if he tried. Draenic, if you had to ask him, but this man is far from a Draenei. In fact, that smell, that sensation he gives off... This man is undead. But that can't be, can it? Undead, speaking, thinking for himself. Isidor and Viatorus said they'd never seen anything like that before. Even the necromancer seemed intrigued by what a death knight is. This man couldn't possibly be something similar... Could he?

Harrowheart turns his head just slightly so that the white lights of his eyes are watching suspiciously from the corners. "The necromancer missed a fine opportunity to meet someone who'd pay him any mind, it sounds like. He's just another breather obsessed with death but too scared to commit to it. At the risk of soundin' like I belong with some of the folks at this party, he's beneath me."

His eyebrows rise just a fraction of an inch. "Beneath us?"

[votivescholars]

The hand left pointing folds to rest on his arm, the corners of his mouth curling again so that he watches with amusement, or pride, or maybe both. "Oh, a fierce opinion and a strong dose of stubborn pride? You'll fit right in here."

"So," he starts, then stops briefly to sip his wine. "You can spot the dead even when they do not look dead. How convenient." He wrinkles up his nose. "My accuracy is always a little... off." A sigh and his irked expression drops with a shrug. "It's not hard to tell with you, though. You look like a wraith. Much better skin and far better dressed, though," he adds approvingly. "Very Napoleonic... but you should have left the sword and armour."

[westfallcorndog]

You'll fit right in here. Harrowheart's lips purse and eyebrows lower in disappointment. He said he didn't want to sound like he belonged with the people at this party! The guy doesn't have to rub it in! There's a little delay before he half-heartedly laughs. Being undead doesn't make him learned or bright of suave, clearly. He's certainly no vampire.

"Napoleonic," he repeats in the lowest whisper. It's a new word he's just learned and he's trying to commit its (probably wrong) definition to memory.

"A wraith?" he asks, then huffs a more sincere laugh. "Everyone wants to call me a draugr. I'm a death knight, somethin' from another plane. But I'm curious about you." He squints like he's trying to hear an answer that hasn't come yet. "No one on your world acts like there's any undead who can think. So that makes you?..."

He can't even begin to guess, honestly.

[votivescholars]

The man's eyes flash and his lips crawl into a broad smile. "A secret. Isn't that exciting?"

A beat passes and then he interrupts the thread of tension with a laugh that shows off his small but noticeable fangs. Once he's done he clears his throat and then flattens his cravat. "I'm a vampire, of which there are many, many types. Most of them are little more than mindless, starving beasts. Those who can think are sensible enough to stay out of the spotlight. That goes for all undead, really. And to the living, the thought of the dead being able to think and feel is... uncomfortable. Best for them not to worry about it."

[westfallcorndog]

This guy is ominous! And yet, somehow – probably against better judgement – Harrowheart can't be too perturbed by him. He's another undead, after all. There's got to be some unspoken solidarity between them. And knowing what little he knows about vampires (and it is very little) he's well-convinced he's got nothing this man could want.

Harrowheart smiles lopsidedly at the vampire's advice. "Little late for me to stay out of the spotlight, but I'll do you a solid and not tell anyone I met you. And I... Noticed that, yeah. That they can't handle us bein' people in our own right. It's different from how it is on my world. There, they say we can be but that we can't belong. Here, they think we can't be at all. If it weren't Viatorus' big evenin' I'd'a clocked that Poenia girl for tellin' me I gotta be someone's thrall."

Having said it, though, Harrowheart winces. He tries for a queasy smile and shakes his head. "I probably embarrassed myself sayin' that just now. You don't look like the sorta undead who takes part in violent things. You got a better look about you, like a... Vault master at a bank." He plucks at his own collar and nods the vampire's way. "It's that thing you got on."

Only after saying that does something occur to him. His eyebrows twitch and he quickly asks, "Just a minute now. Other undead? What sorts are there on Earth?..."