|
|
Post by black379 on Dec 10, 2017 20:46:29 GMT -8
"Cavorted?" The woman chuckled, though she supposed she was grateful that Lekalis didn't blatantly insult her. He was careful with his words, but he must have had some theory on Courcy's relations. The fact that he put up with her spoke to the ex-lord's open-mindedness.
"My friend came here with me." Courcy began to answer, realizing how complicated her time had been since arriving in the hamlet. She gave her best attempt at brevity, without leaving Blood lost. "We were in over our heads, and I got hurt. Almost lost my arm."
She paused in place, consequently halting Blood's own walk. The hellion shifted most of her weight on her halberd as she faced him. Her left arm extended, with some hesitance, to show off the grisly mark on her wrist - a hand print burned in her skin. "Baignard gave me this. He... went so far as to take in a demon, to heal me. The church killed him for it."
Her tone was quieter, weaker. If not for her melancholy, then for their company of passerby monks. "Only, he came back. At least, the demon did... Baignard loved me more than anyone has, in a 'f-familial' sorta way. When I saw him again, I-I... couldn't help making up for lost time."
|
|
|
|
Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Dec 11, 2017 13:16:04 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
The Ex-Lord frowned, then nodded; the name 'Baignard' fit easily into many of the small rumors he'd heard on the streets. Lekalis crossed his arms loosely as he listened,
"That demon... He hardly sounds malicious." He remarked with a tilt of his head, plucking some dirt from underneath his fingernails as he eyed the mark on Courcy's arm; he reached out and looked to Courcy as he gingerly made to hold it in his palms, gauging if he was going too far.
"There's... No shame in what you did. Anyone willing to give their soul for another is..." He hesitated, chewing on his lip as he realized the rather antagonistic nature of his own curse, in this case.
"... Is simply heroic." He smirked, and nodded,
"Once we lose something, someone, like that... They don't usually come back. I can only imagine what that must have felt like, to see him again." He acknowledged a bit simply, he knew.
His hand would try to run its thumb over the scar, should Courcy allow him to even get so close.
"Does it still hurt?"
|
|
|
|
Post by black379 on Dec 11, 2017 17:04:54 GMT -8
Courcy was touchy at first, but allowed him to take her arm. Blood's gentle touch had her ease into him a little. The mark on her wrist seemed knotted together with stretched, pink skin.
"Looks worse than it is." She answered with a shake of her head and a small smile as he thumbed the cragged mar on her wrist. No one had ever regarded it so intriguing as Lekalis apparently did.
"I didn't want to waste any more time with him." The redhead continued, expelling a dejected sigh. "A good demon is no less a demon, though. And I'm an example of wickedness, what's better than a whore who submits herself to a devil?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Dec 11, 2017 17:22:27 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
"Oh, well... Being a bastard in a Godly noble court, I've some experience with demons and the like. Folk throw the word around lots these days." He mused, as he scrunched up his nose, finding whatever it was he desired to find; he shrugged and held Courcy's wrist in his palm, while patting the scar punctually with his other hand.
"I'm glad it's healed so prettily though. You have lovely wrists and hands." He smirked and nodded, as he pulled his own back to cross over his waist loosely.
"As for... Devils, demons, and whores. Well; they're just words, I've found. Titles, descriptors... I... suppose that should be obvious but it was a revelation of sorts to me, rather recently." His smirk stayed, though it warmed to something more friendly than the cocky tilt might imply.
"I'd drowned myself in believing myself to be all the rumors that surround this idea of 'Blood'. My moniker, see." Lekalis nodded to the door of the Abbey, taking a few more steps towards it.
"But in truth... It's up to you to... To pick and choose which of those rumors you like, and which you don't. You can't let those words own you.", He never turned fully away from Courcy, moving at a slow, sideways gait.
"To me... You're an example of what happens to sweet things that come to the Hamlet. Life's changed you irreversibly, it's true, but all it takes is a few steps in the right direction; then Everyone will want to be like you." He affirmed with some glowing pride, as he paused, his nose scrunched up again, at a foul realization.
"I'm... not sure if the Abbey-folk will ever like you. But I've never liked the Abbey anyways, what about you?"
|
|
|
|
Post by black379 on Dec 11, 2017 18:35:43 GMT -8
The hellion moved as he did, they still had to inform the guard after all. So she picked up her pace in order to reach them before any, or many, more worms dug into the abbey.
"Never." She agreed, and while the church was good a place as any for monsters to invade, Courcy couldn't rightly let it happen.
Maybe Blood was right, to some extent. But regardless of her own opinions, the gossip about her would surely continue to paint the opinion of others. More so, she could hardly care for anyone to envy her - perhaps the ex-lord was making known his own passion. Courcy truly longed to be loved, to be worthy of love. She missed Baignard, and she missed her father.
"I haven't been sweet in a long time." Her eyes met his and shared a rebellious smirk. While Blood could get under her skin, she was still glad to have him. Somehow his charm subdued his tendency toward murder. "What've I got to do, then?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Dec 11, 2017 19:17:36 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
"Well... Informing the guard should be good, though word is probably starting to get to them already." He mused as he placed a hand on the Abbey door, making to slowly push it open as he contemplated Courcy's reaction.
"It'll be good to inform them directly... Ah..." He paused, and seemed to realize the poor timing of the question; he raised a hand in preemptive apology, casting his eyes down as he spoke.
"... I imagine you'd know where and how best to inform them? A barrack or the like..?" He asked with a fervently sorry smile...
\Transition to Hamlet Streets?\
|
|
|
|
Post by black379 on Dec 12, 2017 7:52:04 GMT -8
She closed the distance to the door, awaiting Blood to open it fully. After his insinuation, fair as it was, she paused and chewed on her lip. Courcy nodded and began past him.
"The end of the guild hall. Though the warden, I think, is making his rounds after the attacks."
[Courcy and Lekalis exit the abbey, to the streets]
|
|
|
|
Post by Kidney on Dec 15, 2017 17:10:36 GMT -8
"Than you very much." Tod said quietly, taking the soup from the kitchen, avoiding the gaze of Grace. He slipped back to his pew, meditation through prayer and hymn had calmed him, but still, the face.
The face.
The cultist still haunted him. Her body unmoving, the skin torn from her unable to even make her react. It chilled him.
Tod's eyes wandered to his soup, and as he began to eat, his appetite left him.
Had he seen his father? Some version of him? Or perhaps that was the father he had wished he had.
It did not matter. Whatever father he thought he had for a moment was ripped from him, torn away from his tired, loving arms. Did he really hate him as much as he had thought?
Did he, deep in his heart of hearts, love him?
Tod hurled the empty soup bowl to the ground, a short yell escaping him as he slammed it hard into the tile.
"No."
He shook his head, breathing slowing again as he lifted the bowl, setting it beside him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Vanitypirate on Dec 15, 2017 22:45:27 GMT -8
Grace was tired, and she realized suddenly she didn't want to be here. Here in this graveyard, looking over yet another corpse. Not because she didn't care, but because she did. She had seen plenty of "comrades" die in her time. But none of them really effected her, because she rarely ever really cared about them. When the time of mourning and remembrance came she would put on the look of stoic remorse she practiced so much and wore so well, as easily as a set of comfy cloths you might slip into after a hard days work. When called to do so she would say the expected words: "They will be missed" "their sacrifice was not in vain" "we will avenge them" and other such things. She couldn't summon any of that now. She had liked Roderick, and she had let him die so easily. It hurt her deep. Another scar with the ones caused by so the few other losses and betrayals that had struck her to her core. She sneered under her austerer crimson hood. Mostly she felt disgusted with herself and a few other choice individuals. "Bring his belongings to my quarters." she muttered to a monk before shuffling off back into the abbey to lock herself away in her office, perhaps for good this time. -- There was another woman scurrying along along through the abbey's cloisters, the hems of her habit sweeping along the cobblestone floor of the abbey. A platter of tea clattered along with her as she hustled up to Grace's door, on which she knocked loudly, briskly, and with a sense of urgency. "Sister Grace! I-I brought tea!" Her voice was soft like feathers, and strained; she certainly had more to tell the woman about that just tea. |
|
|
|
The Abbey
Dec 15, 2017 23:26:47 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by Outisakanobody on Dec 15, 2017 23:26:47 GMT -8
Grace walked up behind the woman, having not yet reached the office. "What is this, sister?" she asks, confused. She'd also ratherdrink wine, honestly.
|
|
|
|
The Abbey
Dec 16, 2017 9:56:51 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by Vanitypirate on Dec 16, 2017 9:56:51 GMT -8
The nun visibly jumped, moving to clutch at the tea tray; the glasses clinked noisily against the others.
"You're..." She began, then stopped, and began again,
"There's been a breach in the abbey, sister! In the... old reliquary. It paths right into the aqueducts."
|
|
|
|
The Abbey
Dec 16, 2017 10:22:08 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by Outisakanobody on Dec 16, 2017 10:22:08 GMT -8
"What do you mean by breach?" Grace asks, her brow furrowed in sudden concern.
|
|
|
|
Post by Vanitypirate on Dec 16, 2017 10:32:44 GMT -8
"There's an... awful creature that just burrowed in! Right through the old breach." The nun trembled along with the tea-tray, and her eyes darted about frantically as she looked to the Sister, and back over her shoulder, where she had just come from. Her stubby fingers flexed nervously as she held the tray.
"We... need your blessing to patch up the hole, Sister."
|
|
|
|
Post by Outisakanobody on Dec 16, 2017 11:05:36 GMT -8
"A blessing...Fine. But you would do well do describe this creature to me." Grace says as she begins to recall memories from events in the abbey.
Lance ambled down the halls, still looking for the one robed woman he had set about fallowing. The Abbey wasn't terribly complex in layout to him so he just walked about for a few moments before bumbling into Grace and the other nun. "Oh, miss! I was-" he started to speak as he recognized Grace. He was cut off by Grace suddenly turning around and looking at Lance. He saw her serious expression as she looked him over. She seemed to mistake him for yet another servant of the church, based on her reaction to him.
"You, boy, follow me. I may have need of you." she says sternly, broaching no room for argument. She then turned her attention back to the nun. "Lead the way, please."
|
|
|
|
Post by Vanitypirate on Dec 16, 2017 11:17:16 GMT -8
The nun quirked her head at Lance, puzzled, but ultimately chose not to poise any questions at the man.
She sat the tea-tray down beside the door to Grace's office before straightening up to the lead the way down the hall, rushing with short, shuffling steps.
"It was a worm-demon-- I saw one of the guards carrying it in! He said it could spit pure acid, and its mouth was all teeth."
|
|
