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Canon: © Anne Bishop
Board's Plot: Blood Rites
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Established February 2010
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* Plot Information for Little Terreille

A naive Black Jeweled witch has destroyed the Territory Court. From its ashes a new court is being constructed, one run by a manipulative killer. As the blood runs in the streets of Goth from open gang warfare, the Steward of Little Terreille begins a gambit to rebuild the Territory from the ground up and challenge the Star of Kaeleer.
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Author Topic: From Broken to Made  (Read 295 times)

Description: Attn: Ura, Odelle (possibly)

Offline Maxim Constantin

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From Broken to Made
« on: Jul 12, 19, 04:28:38 AM »
The room was the same, almost identitcal to the Gate in Raej. Save there was a feeling that didn't exist in the other realm, Terreille,  that definately existed here. He couldn't put his finger on it, or even describe it if asked. It just felt different. Not bad. Not good. Just different. Curiosity riddled his eyes much as it did Kale's when he first emerged in Gate City. It looked like the sky. It looked like the Sun. Sure the buildings were a bit scrunched and looked a little mismanaged but otherwise? It looked the same...but felt different.

Curiosity gave way to ye olde pessimism once more when he paid his OTHER leg before being allowed to enter the city proper. He got the spiel like all the rest: You can't leave unless you have a contract and are given leave to. Try to and they punt you back through the gate. The staff who told him had the look of people who weren't trying to intimidate but simply speaking from experience, even when saying 'try' as if they knew it wouldn't work. THAT made him pay attention. No sneaking out of the city for street thug Constantin then.

The throng of people was immense and sent his head spinning. It felt like Bidea during a big event. People were everywhere. Some waiting to return to Terreille, most loitering about, many practically hawking the Gate's exit to offer everything from help finding contracts to petitioning rooms to sleep in. Some offered themselves as guides, aides to learn about Kaeleer and the random person down on his luck asking for what little was left that Little Terreille didn't gouge from them. It almost made him think he entered a resort for the disenfranchized.

The lovebirds left with Kale practically skipping away and gave Max free reign to do whatever he wanted, for the first time in the world that he paid practically his life's worth to come to. He counted what coinage he had left to his person and then nodded to himself. Minutes later he left a storefront and pulled the top off and took a swig of the bottle of far too expensive to be a legal price liquour, eyeing the throng of bodies passing through the street. He slipped into the crowd to wander the streets and take in the sights. That was when he heard the distinct sound a sharp shriek from the alleyway. He peered over heads and found some obvious nefarious goons nefarying a woman and a child. Sulking out of the group, he overheard one of said nefarious goons fuming at being called 'a soul-sucking fiend'. His senses gave the distinct sense of a Warlord Prince, practically bristling under his skin.

It didn't take long for two and two to come together. Said Warlord Prince wanted his 'fee' for helping them find contractable work to leave. The woman, who had no money left, had waited three months for said 'help' and nothing came of it so she wouldn't pay him, even if she had money. Insert slur, equaled near raging Warlord Prince.

"YO!" Interrupted Max, stepping in and shoving the cap back on the bottle and vanishing it. "Lady said she doesn't have money. Just breathe man, get some space. No need to be riled up ya know?"

Apparently that was all it took for the Warlord Prince to not back down and instead whirl around, stare daggers at Max and with a snarl bull-rushed him knocking them both into the street. He hit the street with a loud thud, knocking some of the wind from his lungs. He heaved himself to his side, kicking the Warlord Prince in the kneecap that made the man croon back with a howl of pain falling back on his ass. Max got to his feet and went to pin the man to the ground to let the rage-tantrum run it's course but the Warlord Prince grabbed Max by the shirt and yanked, hard, to pull his face into the Warlord Prince's fist.

Stars swam in Max's vision before the pain subsided, cleared with nothing but raw resolve and constitution. He grabbed the man's fist, twisted and kneed him in the side yanking the man's arm out of it's socket in the process. Another howl of pain and a moment of limpness, just enough for Max to get a clear shot at the man's face. Power seeped into Max's muscles, giving him a second breath and gave his arm the strength needed to incapacitate as he punched the man square in the side of the head. The Prince slumped over, groaning and unconscious.

Max hissed, grabbing his side and wiping his nose, now bloody, as he got up to the crowd stopping to watch the spectacle as if they had paid tickets to see a show. "What? Never seen a raging Warlord Prince before?" Then ignored them. The others had longed since vanished and the woman and the child too. Hope they're okay.

He dragged the Warlord Prince into the alley and slumped the now drooling man against the side of what Max thought was a restaurant. While he did, he eyed the pouch of coin inside the man's jacket and practically drooled. Max had little money left to his name, what with the Gate and all and he would need some money to get around the overwhelming prices. So! He helped himself to some reparations for his nose, plucking a few gold marks from the man's jacket before patting the man's chest. "Collecting a fee my ass."

Time to get something to eat so he could swindle a napkin. He was pretty sure a napkin would cost an island here. Welcome to Kaeleer indeed.



Offline Urassaya Mordoga

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Re: From Broken to Made
« Reply #1 on: Sep 03, 19, 06:48:03 AM »
This was not Ura's first visit to Gate City, but it was the first time she was going with the intention of visiting the service fair. The Queen she'd apprenticed under for the bulk of her training hadn't had any need of "foreigners" or "indentures" and seemed to rather think the whole thing was somehow gruesome or shady, and so she'd kept far away from it all and had attempted to imbue Ura with the same sort of viewpoint. While she couldn't speak for her cousin, Ura had always thought the old bag was full of shit.

Besides, she'd been to Gate City, she knew the conditions, and she knew there was plenty of opportunity within the service fairs - and not just for those wishing to get their ticket into Kaeleer through them.

For the next few days she would be here to see if there was anyone who may fit within the circles of Odelle's court and, in the back of her mind, she was also looking for those who may be of use in her own - though it would still be a little bit before she was able to take those official steps. She needed to build a foundation first, and not just within the confines of the court.

Oh no, Ura was not the kind of Queen to limit herself in such a way.

Which was why, not an hour after they were checked into their very nice suite of rooms at an inn that seemed designed with Queens and escort delegations in mind, Ura was already slipping back out and onto the streets to wander. She was sorely tempted to sneak off to explore a bit by herself (there were certainly plenty of things she would like to do that she did not want being reported back to Lady Odelle), and might have done so - except for the crucial little detail of Vester. She honestly hadn't expected him to agree to come with them when she'd asked him a few days before their departure. While they were finally seeming to find their rhythm, Vester wasn't exactly enthusiastic about... anything, really, and Ura was loathe to even accidentally push him. Not someone used to walking on eggshells around anybody, this was a very uncomfortable position for her.

And yet... he'd agreed. Then, when she'd asked him if he was sure, reminding him that it was his choice and he didn't have to if he didn't want to, he'd put his damn food down and pretty much demanded that he come. It was so WEIRD to feel that mix of pride and annoyance caused whenever he did something like that. On one hand, it was her instinct to growl and snap back. On the other, he was demanding to spend time with her, and he was taking agency, and showing interest, so...

Ugh. She really needed to talk to Diana about this, but other than sending rapidfire letters back and forth they were both way too busy for a visit. In her last letter, Di had said she'd be coming to the service fair this month as well, so hopefully they'd be able to meet up but at this point, Ura could only put so much stock in hope.

As they were walking, a scuffle seemed to break out somewhere a little further down the road. Ura rather did like a good fight and moved to get closer, but by the time they got close enough to see anything the crowd was dispersing and Ura felt a rather distinct pang of disappointment. She really needed to arrange a time to go visit her cousins sometime soon or she would end up doing something foolish, like getting caught in her haste to get closer to something real.

"Come on, we've been walking for a while now and I'd like something to snack on," she said with a sigh, trying not to pout or appear too overly sullen. They began moving, but once again were drawn to a stop before they made it too far past the site of the scuffle by the entrance of a scruffy-looking Warlord Prince from an alleyway - right onto their path.

They should be moving in a respectful circle around the man, avoiding him and giving him his space at the same time - Warlord Princes sprouting from alleyways were usually best acknowledged from a distance after all - but Ura stood still, her eyes widening slightly in surprise and... and something else.

Because there was a ringing in her chest like a quiet gong. Back and forth, solemn and cheerful at the same time.

Hello, hello, mine mine mine.

Offline Maxim Constantin

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Re: From Broken to Made
« Reply #2 on: Sep 14, 19, 07:48:47 AM »
I'm gonna have to make this shit last. He thought as he stuffed his self-proclaimed reparations into his pocket. It was only a few gold marks, but it was better than silver and far more than he had before getting waylayed. Life on the streets of Dena Nehale prepared him for this type of life, the life of scrounging for scraps but not to this extent. He had his posse who always at least had shelter and his sisters who always at least had food on the table. He had neither here. If he was going to get by until...whatever needed to happen did, the gold marks would need to keep him going. He couldn't rely on stuff like this all the time. Not here at least.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep anyone from pilfering his lifeline as he began to eye the street for a place to get something to eat. He wiped at his nose which tingled with the running tickle of blood slowly draining to his upper lip. "Shit." He couldn't wipe it on his sleeve because this was his only nice jacket. He rubbed it on the hem of his t-shirt instead.

He didn't notice the Queen at first. She, in his view, was just another passerby. Tourist or traveler or whoever decided to live here. But he focused on her instead, the person who was just another part of the crowd but his stride slowed on reflex. The noises of the periphery drowned themselves out the same way they did when he got into a fight so that when he saw her face in passing while he walked it was the only thing that provided anything resembling clarity or interest.

The...young? He couldn't tell, Lady went from passerby to centerpiece of his attention. Heart-bonds weren't something he was trained to understand. So when she went from passerby to center of his attention and went from random face in the crowd to something almost desirably familiar he didn't know how to think or feel about it. Her presence was comforting, being in a different world where he knew no one. Well two he knew, honestly, but he didn't know them. Not even his hard-earned cynicism could fault how she was a comfort from a storm of the whole shit-show that landed him here regardless of only seeing her and not even talking to her.

Letting her simply walk on was not an option. He had to say something. Anything, to let her know he understood...whatever it was. Maybe she felt the same way and he was just picking up on it?

So the first thing he did was wipe his nose again and NOT keep walking pass her. "Hey there." He gave her a wave. He looked around. "I'm...new around these parts. You know." He jetted his thumb toward where the gate was. "And i'm having a shit day. You know anywhere someone could get some halfway decent food that doesn't cost their firstborn? Cuz I'm all out of kids and haven't even found a place to sleep yet."



Offline Vester Hall

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Re: From Broken to Made
« Reply #3 on: Oct 02, 19, 11:03:26 AM »
Vester couldn't quite figure out what he was feeling now. He didn't really want to escort Ura here, but he also didn't not want to. It was strange, and he didn't know who he should talk to about it. Lucy had been excited by his decision to go with Ura, which was nice. It was rare that Vester had received praise before coming to Rockland. Not that he needed it. He didn't need anyone's approval. Something in him told him that he absolutely did need to protect Ura, though, and he didn't like the control that part of him had.

That, unfortunately, didn't put an end to that control, so here he was. Vester looked around, glaring at anyone who looked his way. He didn't like all the people around. He didn't like the attention his Queen was getting even though it was mostly just brief glances her way. He didn't like that she was trying to get close to an apparent scuffle because it wasn't like he could do anything to protect her. And, he especially didn't like it when the brief glances turned into some male... some Warlord Prince actually talking to her.

"Prince," Vester heard himself say as he stepped forward, trying to put himself between Ura and the Warlord Prince. He had a surreal feeling as though he was just watching himself do this. Why was he doing this? This Warlord Prince could surely squish him like a bug if he wanted. If he was a cat--more accurately, a kitten--his fur would have been all puffed up and his back arched.

"It's impolite to speak to a Lady before being introduced." Was it? Vester was pretty sure he had heard something like that during his crash course in Court Protocol. Anyway, it sounded good, and Vester really didn't like the way he was looking at Ura, or really that he was continuing to look at her at all.