How Well do you Know Someone?
Log Info
- Title: How Well do you Know Someone?
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Cryosanthia, Stjepan, Toha, Silmeria, Serene
- Place: A03: The TarRaCe
- Time: Tuesday, March 30, 9:42:00 PM
- Summary: Cryosanthia is doing the books at the TarRaCe, to pay Sabina back for the MMMM and the pool. Toha arrives, having heard about the Sith'machine performance, and wanting to discuss it. Akoniril and entourage also enter, catching the Sith's attention. Silmeria, Stjepan and Serene arrive on various missions. Food for the Mourner and the Jotun, and information for Serene. Cryo however, occupies the Charnese Delegate's attention by quizzing her about her guards, personal and supplied by Alexandria. The whitescale goes on to suggest that some guards might have hidden weaknesses, through family or vices, while Akoniril largely dismisses this, intimating that her coterie are unassailable in their loyalty. Cryo demures and disengages, to the embarassing realization she might have 'contesting' Akoniril as if she was another Sith'makar. Silmeria and Stjepan weigh in, suggesting Akoniril take Cryo's warning more seriously, which Serene assures everyone, the high priestess of Taara is listening. She's simply genetically unable to tell the truth.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* The TarRaCe *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Inside, this two-story structure has been almost completely opened up. Generous windows on both stories allow daytime sunlight and cooling night breezes to flow in as needed, while the brick walls have been whitewashed - contrasting with the dark-stained beams and supports, and the rich polish on the wooden floor. A broad strip of stone runs from the entrance to a framed doorway set into the opposite wall, with a sign above the lintel declaring that the baths are to be found that way.
The ground floor is sprinkled with tables and chairs of assorted sizes, offering welcome to guests both large and small. One whole corner of the building - into which guests are not permitted entry - has been given over to the kitchen, which serves as the domain of the famed monster chef Ligum Serforus. Mundane meals are available, but the chef delights in offering up obscure dishes made from the freshest of monster ingredients.
Opposite the kitchen a small bar runs in front of an array of shelves, displaying a broad selection of beverages (most of them alcoholic). The bar-top has been fashioned from what looks to have been old pieces of armor, fused and welded together before being polished to provide a near-smooth finish. Set above it, three human-sized statues have been built into an alcove in the wall: Tarien, Rada and Ceinara jointly keep benevolent watch over the room and its occupants.
To the right of the entrance, a small stage offers a platform for a handful of performers at a time. To the left of the door, a spiral staircase of wrought iron winds its way up to a balcony dining area, that is chiefly reserved for special events and parties.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. Stjepan 8'0" 534 Lb Giantborn Male Big, blonde jotun. Toha 6'2" 282 Lb War Golem Female A woman shaped contrivance of leather and steel, with oruch weaponry. Silmeria 5'8" 126 Lb Human Female A sweet-looking blond human in a long black dress and breastplate. Serene 6'2" 175 Lb Eldanar/Charn Female Glacier meets granite meets strawberries. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Sirs only Watching -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Aya 4'7" 105 Lb Shadow Elf Female Mul'niessa. Braided hair. Simple clothing. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- -=-=- Madah'Chern Akorinil ferch Belvade yun Lithrinil dem Kenduis -=-=-=-=- Akorinil 4'5" 98 LB Shadow Elf Female Diplomatic Delegate, Priestess of Taara, NPC -=--=--=-- Aristocrat of the family Belvade of House Kendui =--=--=--=--=--=- -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Whirlpool Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The Tarrace, the evening dinner rush.
Her bath, the soap-cake, and celebrations were earlier. Cryosanthia successfully scrubbed off all the Baz essential oils and her scales are back to being a brilliant white. She's seated at a table, a little out of the way, attempting to make it all up to Sabina by doing some of her accounting work.
She makes for an unusual sight, a large lizard woman hunched over a book with a quill that moves between her hand and mouth when she isn't dipping, writing, or otherwise making some notes. Two long white spars jut out of her back, waving around behind her like poles. Every once in a while she arches and rolls her shoulders, which cause them to move around some more. Then she returns to her bookkeeping.
OF course, Akorinil is here. She's just swept in with her guards, a mix of her personal retinue and city watch. They're, politely, keeping just /enough/ distance that she'll be able to make use of the facilities. The Shadow Elven girl with the ginger hair is already making plans with the staff, and it sounds like she knows exactly what she's after.
Stjepan came back for the wyvern stirfry, and so he's got a good seat for the festivities. He's got a good plate of fine-smelling meat and vegetables in front of him, and a mug of something nice and cold. Glancing up, he tilts his head to watch various familiar faces as they arrive.
Why ever would one want to get rid of essential oils?
That leads to screeching joints.
An advocate for proper lubrication, clad in black leather and blued steel chased in rose gold, steps into the TaRraCe. Clutched in her hands is a square flat box of polished wood several inches deep as she steps into the business with a smooth stride. The figure's chin lifts to level the dark span of her eyeslit on the stage before she makes her way in that direction.
It has been a particularly difficult day for Silmeria, and when the Speaker for the Dead wants to help lift her spirits enough that her outward demeanor is less a lie than an exaggeration, it's the new and interesting she seeks out.
And few things are more new and interesting than braised displacer-steak, even if the steak is markedly easier to cut than the creature.
Halfway through her meal, the Vardaman's head rises as the new customer enters, complete with... Guard retinue?
New *and* interesting.
Motion, a crowd, a lot. The whitescale glances up to see who has entered, with little more curiosity than that. Once she recognizes Delegate Akoniril, and her guards, and her other guards, a ripple of tension moves through her. She sits up straight. Scales! Better hide the books! Her presence here is going to drop a decimal, reverse some columns. It's risky enough doing the maths in a restaurant without tempting the Goddess of Lies.
Or her chosen representative.
Cryo licks the quill dry, covers the inkwell, pulls a blotter and carefully presses it on the page, not too heavily, then blows. Sshssss, did a zero just switch to an eight? She'll figure it out later. Fan! Fan!
The doings with the guards and their charge make enough activity to turn Toha's head off to that side to see what all's about as the construct continues toward the stage, where a couple of golems are performing some mellow dining ambiance. There is a familiar figure caught in her reoriented peripheral vision, one she's wanted to see since she heard about a 'Golem song'.
It made her curious.
Still cradling her burden between her hands she resolves to wave later, instead, the feminine form continues to the edge of the stage near the more ornate, brass and woodwind imcorporated performer and she waits for his head to turn momentarily in her direction to gently place the box on the stage and gently tap-tap it with a finger. She gives a little bow and turns from the performance to approach the white sith while others commence their assorted refueling proceedures.
"Well, well, well. This isn't bad. I'm glad that Tarienite reccomended it ..."
Akorinil is having a look around, yes, and things are being arranged for her. Indeed, she seems to recognize several of the other figures present.
At least a few of them, anyway.
Cryosanthia is rapidly tidying up her paperwork, closing and stacking the books, setting the scratch sheets between the topmost and secondmost. The blotter sheet, quill and inkwell goes on top. She stands, hunched forward, glancing over her shoulders to check the ceiling clearance, then stays hunched like a lizard librarian bookwrym and takes the pile to the kitchen.
A quick whispered exchange, and she's crouching down to hand the set off to one of the Lucht chefs. He'll get it where it's supposed to be.
Standing, the whitescale brushes down her front, leaves her clothes as is, and examines the... entourage. To speak or not to speak. A few things were on her mind. She contemplates her chances of getting out uninterrupted with two masts attached to her back. It might be easier to dive in.
Oh, there's Toha! She blinks, then waves.
Toha lifts her hand with a warm, if relatively quiet, "Hey, Cryo!" as she continues to close to conversation range. Her chin lifts a smidge for a moment, then back to level the plane at the Sith's eyes, "Been... modding?" she asks. There is a little cant of her head as she washes the focus of her visual awareness on the ViP party she seems to be looking at and- oh, hey, there's Mourner silmeria! She lifts her hand again, turning her face overtly toward the servant of the Fieu of the Tears and gives a little fingerwave.
Toha's wave is answered with a smile, and an answering wiggle of fingers. The Speaker pokes at artfully charred vegetables, her attention more on the goings-on about the room than her dinner. "Good evening, Toha," she chirps, bobbing her head. "How're you today?"
"Ah," The whitescale glances behind and up, at her two masts and smiles awkwardly, "Something like that, yes. I had a little accident. It's good to see you again. Peace on your Nest."
She exhales, leans closer to the construct and nods in the general direction of the delegate and her party, "This one must say hello. Then we can catch up?"
Cryo heads closer to Akoniril, stopping short of her retinue, remaining standing, "Peace on your Nest."
When Cryosanthia approaches her, Akorinil Belvade sits up straighter. "Why *hello* there," she offerws, warmly. "This establishment is just lovely, don't you think?" Her eeyes scan around and light on Silmeria. Seems she recognizes *her*, for some reason.
Or perhaps merely something about her.
"Good, good, thanks! How're you?" Toha replies softly to be less disruptive, then, as she makes her excuses, she cants her head again and nods, "Ah, okay. Mind if I siddown here, till yer done? Don't wanna be in the way if folks wanna watch the stage."
As the Sith heads off to join the delegate, she shrugs natually enough and eases herself carefully into a seat.
"Of course not!" Silmeria says, nodding to a chair at her table. "This might be an interesting show, anyway."
When the Ambassador's eyes light on her, the Speaker tilts her head and turns up the wattage on her smile, for a moment. While Vardama might not be a *rival* of Taara's, in any meaningful sense, divine vibrations clashing tends to add a bit of tension to any room.
However, the Speaker seems disinclined to be anything but polite and welcoming. For the moment.
"It's one of my favourite places," Cryosanthia says, still standing and glancing back at Toha. Offended a friend and socializing with an enemy, off to a great start already. She exhales, her breath a little cool, "Sabina may not appear, she was rather busy earlier. However this one hears there is Wyvern stir-fry and Displacer beast tonight."
She pauses. Sure, why not, see if a joke lands, "In the event one misses being poisonned by your food or hunting around the plate for it."
Stjepan looks up from his meal, polishing off the spicy wyvern dish. He can't quite feel his lips, and he looks delighted with it. Looking around, he starts marking peoples' locations in the room. The red-haired Mul stands out, of course.
Toha settles in and nods, "Thank you." She watches the 'show' with intense curiosity, though she isn't entirely sure what the dynamics are. To be fair, The little dark lady is a new face, if only to her, but she's important enough to have guards.
"It *is* surprisingly lovely. Of course, it has nothing on the bath houses back in Charn, but it's not bad for a provincial affair," she remarks, "It's only missing the skeleton servers and it'd feel like home." The needle is, of course, teasingly directed towards the Vardaman as she casually name-drops Charn's use of the undead.
"Still, is there something I can help you with?" She squints at talk of stir-fried displacer beasts. "Are they not exceptionally rare these days?" she asks, curiously.
The whitescale glances over at Silmeria, bobs her head in her direction as the two have an exchange, then she's looking down at Akoniril again. "This one is not sure. This one would hope Sabina is involved in sustainable harvesting."
A glance towards the kitchen, back to the group at hand.
"Earlier this one was having a revealing conersation in the baths. How well does one really know someone else." The whitescale taps at her chin a little, then looks over the Mul'niessa priestess' retinue. She counts in four guards from the left, gestures, "How well do you know this one?"
Just as well the TaRraCe is know for dinner -and- a show, as, honestly, all Toha can truly enjoy is the show.
Unless there's some quicksilver here, of course.
She doubts it, though.
But, as the exchange carries on between Sith and Mul, the golem leans back in her seat with a little list of her head to the right, "Are they flirting?" she asks with an absolutely straight face.
Stjepan takes a long pull from his mug, and leans back in his chair, testing it's construction sorely. There's a pause, and he hides a smile behind his drink, before looking over at Toha. "Makes you wonder, doesn't it."
The needle is acknowledged, but Silmeria merely spears a stick of carrot, turning to her companion and chuckling. "Our friend is speaking to the Ambassador from Charn," she says in a much lower tone of voice, so as not to interrupt the conversation. "I thought she'd be taller, myself."
"I'm an elf, darling, we're not terribly tall." Akroinil is, indeed, not a freakishly tall elf like Mikilos or something. Still, the nature of Croysanthia's questioning causes her to look curiously towards the Sith-Makar. "Ahh," she begins, "I see. I believe all my guards love me. Well, not the Alexandrian ones, perhaps. Still sore over things but, well... what's a few decades of occupation amongst friends?"
The guards scowl.
Akorinil winks at the Sith-makar. "His name is Juba."
The whitescale nods, "And you know his family, his house, his mate or children if there are any, his relatives, if have criminal records or criminal friends? This one doesn't need to know those details, is just curious if you know them."
Cryo picks an Alexandrian guard next, the one second from furthest right, "What about this one? Looks a little young to be a friend from a few decades of occupation, but this one has a hard time judging the age of softskins. Are you assured you know everything you need to?"
Stjepan considers, listening to the repartee. He waves for another plate of wyvern. It's /tasty/. Another long slug of ale to wash down the burn.
"Oh, that place." Toha replies in a flatter tone. There's a shrug of her shoulder again and she answers, "A lot of them are that small."
She nods to the Jotun, "Not always, but... frequently." she admits, "It gives us something to watch." Though whether the golem means the patrons of the TaRrAcE and the current performance, or her people in general when the meatbags get to tingling in special places is a question left unanswered.
There's a soft hmmm as things keep going and she leans toward Silmeria, softly asking, "Should I stay out of this?"
Serene is not a frequent guest to the TaRaCe. In fact, she has never been here before this evening. And they way she casts her gaze about when she enters is a clear indicator that she's not here to patron the place, particularly when it falls upon Akroinil... and those near her, particularly her guards. She does not, however, immediately set to a path to the elf, instead wandering her way towards Stjepan and company.
"Honestly I don't know," Silmeria whispers back. "I try not to enter conversations unless I'm welcome and invited. It makes a lot of things simpler that way."
Leaning back in her chair, the Vardaman toys with her food some more, smiling at some internal joke. "But it is definitely going to be a conversation worth hearing, at least."
As Serene enters the room, her smile widens, and a greeting hand is lifted.
Stjepan salutes Serene with his mug, plate of wyvern stir-fry in front of him. He looks pretty comfortable as he sits there. Glancing back at Toha, "You know, I saw a show here a couple of days ago here about metal getting tingly. It was... something. I suspect you'd have been an excellent critical ear for it."
"That was exactly what I was worrying about. This one had a most interesting conversation in the baths today," Cryo gestures with an open palm towards the bathhouse entrance. "This one was informed that there was a Criminal Syndicate that stretches from Alexandria, to Veyshan, and other parts known, with fingers in every pie. That paying off guards to look the other way was a common practice of theirs, and they had influence at high levels."
The whitescale looks over the guards, both the Mul'niessa's retinue and the ones supplied by Alexandria, then fixes a wicked smile on the delegate. "This one was concerned, but if you're assurred you know all you need to, then perhaps its unfounded. The Alexandrian guards I'm sure, are nervous enough worrying they'll be involved in an international incident without having to consider some of their own might be paid off. Or some of yours, impressed some way to set them up. But if they're all trustworthy, none too fond of drink, gambling, socializing, or with troubled relatives, as upstanding and forthright as any Paladin while being paid far, far less, then this one holds a false concern. I do wonder how one is assured of loyalty and honesty under Taara's tutelage, but am satisfied you know your own as well as you suggest and such have sprung up to follow you. You seem to have it well in hand and this one apologizes for wasting your time on a subject you've clearly considered."
Cryo dips her head slightly, then looks across the guards. A gaze that isn't accusing any of them of anything, really. She's seeking hostile glares, worried looks, glances amongst themselves. Evidence that her suggestion of cracks might have revealed some cracks, or an expert plastering job over them. "This one will leave you, Peace on your Nest, enjoy your meal."
Toha nods some to Silmeria and answers, "Maybe you're right." softly before straightening up in her seat, "It's kinda lively." To the Jotun's remarks she nods his way, "Oh, yes I heard, thank you!" she replies amicably, "I wa hoping there'd be another show or... I could talk about it with the artist." a pause, then, she ringingly taps the tip of her ear. Hee hee.
Ear.
That hand pauses in it's task on sight of Serene past the large man's shoulder and raises high to wave at the paladin while the very light, kinda heavy woman, and the very dark, really light lady continue to do their thing.
Serene tilts her head in response to Silmaria, Stjepan and Toha as her footfalls end at their table. She does not invite herself to a seat, however, being somewhat conspicious as she remains standing. Facing Cryosanthia and Akorinil. When the latter calls her out.. well, technically Serene doesn't scowl. This is entirely because her grim visage was already set to the tone of quite displeased. While it is rumoured Serene can be diplomatic when she puts her mind to it, she is clearly not much of the mind to right now.
Stjepan grins at Toha, and gestures at the departing Cryosanthia. "Well, you don't have to waste your chance..." A glance over, and digs into the second dish of stirfry. He doesn't want to waste it if the paladin starts getting 'diplomatic'.
"Mmn. Do you, by chance, refer to the so-called 'Obsidian Syndicate'? Not but fluff and rumors, that," says Akorinil, doubtfully. "There's always rumors of those who's influence is greater than it is. The Syndicate doesn't exist." A pause.
A hand goes to her mouth. "Oh, no. By denying their existence, I may have confimred I know who you're speaking of and therefore they DO exist!"
"She was," the Vardaman points out -- this time, more than loudly enough to be heard by Akorinil on purpose -- "at least attempting to warn you in good faith. Whether or not it's a *credible* warning in your eyes, it was still to be a warning given in good faith, yes?"
Spearing the last of her steak, the priestess pushes away her now-empty plate, and smiles, lifting her glass to the diplomat. "Frankly that she'd even make the attempt speaks well of her."
Stjepan takes another bite, then crosses his arms, chewing to clear his mouth. When he's done and ready, he agrees. "Nobody is going to force you; but the 'woo-woo' mockery is dull and off-target.' The East Stormgardian judge gives it a 4/10.
Toha lets the breathers continue to do the thing, trying to dissect the interplay a little more between, well, everyone, and the so far nameless dark elf.
"She makes a mockery of it to misdirect; do not believe she does not take everything said to her during her stay here with all seriousness," Serene advises, continuing to watch the Charnish diplomat for a handful of heartbeats further. Then she turns. "I will not find what I came here for tonight. Stay well this evening," she offers the trio at the table before deparing.
"A colour descriptor wasn't presented," Cryo says, focusing back on Akoniril, looking her over carefully, "the source was a stranger and she may have been pulling my tail, but the initial question, 'how well do you know someone', is still food for thought. This one was curious if you knew your guards as well as you seem to know ... well Serene, for example. You seem informed, your bell has no cracks."
She looks over at the unexpected support from Silmeria, and Stjepan, and waves. She rises a little, standing taller, and makes a small formal flourish to Akoniril, "In any case, my thoughts were shared. Enjoy."
The whitescale slips away, dodging lightly around authoritarian and tavern furniture to slip back to Toha and Silmeria's table.
"I wasn't flirting," Cryo tells Toho, leaning close to the construct and causing her spars to sway around above her. Apparently she overheard. She snags a short bench and slips down onto it. Silmeria and Stjepan get a grin of acknowledgement, and Serene a full wave. Then, she decides further elaboration is necessary.
"This one would only be flirting if I was in season, and then it wouldn't be flirting. It would be finding the most formidable Sith'makar woman I could, confronting her in a public way where everyone could observe and evaluate our strengths and decided which of us won the contest and... Scales! Silver Empress!"
Several decades under a Fae, the mother race of all Sildanyari, has had an influence on what she considers a worthy challenge. Cryo faces Toha, "It still wasn't flirting."
Stjepan gives Serene a flat 'well, duh' look as she goes, but doesn't offer her snacks. Even if they're damned tasty. He looks over at Toha. "Totally flirting."
"Darling, I'm not insulting anyone, and I've no idea what you mean by 'woo-woo'," she says, dryly, to Stjepan. "I've heard of the Syndicate. I'm not sure why they'd be interested in me, and I can more than I care for myself, guards non-withstanding. I do /appreciate/ your interest in my well being, however." She reaches for the drink that's been brought to her to take a long one. "I'll be interested to find out more in due time."
Toha waves after Serene makes her departure with an, "Aww, 'kay, Serene, have a good one!" before her attention returns to the group at hand. Her chin lifts as she looks up to Cryo as she begins to explain the finer dynamics of flirting, then, "Oh, ok, thanks Cryo!"
Then, mixed messages come in, her chin turns the Jotun's way, then back to Cryo. Hmm.
She looks to the guarded Mul and gives a polite, "Hello, Lady."
Stjepan deadpans, "It's a technical term," and salutes her with his mug. 'To your health."
"It does sound interesting, doesn't it?" Silmeria agrees genially. "Perhaps it's a sign you're doing your job well; after all, here in the rustic backwater, one tends not to collect assassination threats unless one is doing something worthwhile on a large scale. A nice change, don't you think?"
"This one will explain later," Cryo says, leaning to rest her arms on the table and indirectly support the weight on her back. A quick glance in Akoniril's direction, back to Toha and Silmeria, "This one doesn't want to discuss her personal emotional and social cues too publicly."
The Vardaman is making some great points. The whitescale takes notes.
"You were curious about my song?" She asks Toha. It's far better to discuss a completely different set of personal emotions and social issues publically.
"It sounded... heavy." Toha replies, "My brothers couldn't properly explain it, but what they could wass enough fer me to get curious." as she leans closer. There's a shrug of a shoulder and she rolls her wrist, "I sing too, sometimes." Another shrug, "I don't imagine I'm very good. I haven't been doing it, long."
"It... was." Cryo says carefully, her shoulder shrug causing a waving of her spars. She moves, reaching out a hand and then halting it. A golem wouldn't need, or even understand that gesture, that contact.
She stands, "Come, let's go backstage, see if some of the band is there. I'll teach you the song if you like it..."
"If... if it means something to you. And the only way to get better at singing is to do more of it.' The whitescale grins widely, wobbling her head, her tail bouncing. "Let's go!"
Toha cants her head a little at the return, but nods, "Sure, we can let folks enjoy their meals." she replies in a chipper tone as she rises. She looks to Silmeria and waves, "Thanks fer puttin' up with me again, enjoy yer chow!" Her eyeslit levels on the plane of the Mul's eyes and she affords the delegate a polite, "G'night, lady." before she turns to follow her backstage.
"...hmmm," says Akorinil. She stars after Cryosanthia's departure with a curious look on her face, then turns back to Silmeria. "Rustic backwater of a metropolis with endless wealth, or so it seems. But, yes. I do like to think I'm doing my job well." A glance back and forth between her guards. "If any of them are doppelgangers, I'll find out soon enough."
"And I wish you well, Ambassador," Silmeria says, smiling brightly. "But I'm curious, and forgive me for sounding hopelessly out of touch. Only, my work tends to keep me... occupied... for long stretches of time. May I ask, what is it you *are* here to accomplish, besides trying to build goodwill?"
The world may never know.
