THE CASTLE ( NOV 7 )
Our resident warrior princess, Kidagakash Nedakh, has formulated a plan to investigate the castle and speak with the royals. (The OOC plotting post can be found here.) Now, it's time to put it into action.
The castle itself is huge. From the outside, you can see a beautiful garden, a pond, and a statue commemorating Odette. You can also see several guards, some more invested in their job than others. A few are stony-faced, menacing men with looks that could kill. A couple just look like they'd appreciate a pretty girl or interesting guy to liven up their boring day.
On the inside, all the halls look different, yet the same — different pieces of art, different wall fixtures, but everything else is identical. There's many portraits of the king and his late wife on the walls, sparkling chandeliers, and servants scurrying around. Odette's pale, smiling face and cascading blonde locks look somewhat familiar, but that might just be because of all the statues of her likeness around the city.
The castle has pretty much every room you'd expect a castle to have. A library, a wine cellar, a dining hall, etc. Within them, characters can expect to find various things of interest — there are many books, fancy stationery, even some valuable coins if you look hard enough. There's also many letters to be found detailing the situation in Chantes; of course, there's also plenty of letters on far less official business. Some of them have quite steamy imagery.
There are plenty of servants milling about inside the castle and out in the gardens. In the dining hall and their chambers are several of Chantes' most important nobles. And then, of course, there's you. |
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epidemiology2015-11-06 10:00 pm
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She'll have to make the most of it. No-one looks twice at a serving girl in a castle.
This deep in the building, it's quiet enough that one might never guess most of the staff was preoccupied with a breach at the gate. For that, she's grateful: it means her 'people', as it were, haven't let her down yet. Finding the king's chamber is made difficult by the winding passageways. Despite the complex geography, her sense of direction has always been excellent, and this is not her first time navigating a sprawling palace. Portraits line the walls, and she can determine how warm she's getting with how needlessly opulent the frames get. She feels observed by them, but the weight of ancient history has been one she's borne her whole life. If anything, it gives her more respect for the place.
She calls Riza in discreetly once she gets close enough to spot the guards. She wants to avoid death at all costs, but the men will need to be dispatched somehow. If she wants to knock them out quietly, she'll have to get close. With an internal sign, she unbuttons the two top buttons of her tunic and tells Riza to come in from the other side of the hallway.
Walking up with casual purpose in her step, her platter of food held out in front of her--laden with fruits and cheese--she offers the two men a disarming smile. Even without her pale hair, she knows she's still pretty. The men of Odette are weak. ]
Food was sent for his majesty. [ Her tone isn't exactly flirtatious, but it is warm, demure. The more difficult part for her is dissimulating her Atlantean accent, but she's been in Odette long enough that she can manage. ] But I might be persuaded to share with two hardworking gentlemen.
[ Riza will have to use the other side while the pair's attention is on Kida's...fruit platter. They don't need to get close--only close enough. ]
sorry for the delay!
To their credit, neither of the guards move immediately, glancing instead between each other and the empty hallway and Kida's....melons. Hallway deemed clear, they temporarily abandon their posts, eyes lighting up with each step forward as they murmur 'thanks' and 'if you insist.' One step, two steps, three steps....and that's Riza's cue, pent up energy released in a burst of rapid footsteps. The guard closest to her turns at the sound, only to be met with a leg to the shin and a hard elbow to the back of his head as he tumbles forward and down. The other gets a knee to his gut as she lifts herself back up and an uppercut to his chin.
She's no martial artist, but she knows enough to get the job done.
He tumbles down in a symmetrical backwards arc from the first guard, his fingers curling slightly before they go limp. Now it's her turn to glance between the guards, the empty hallway, and Kida (though not Kida's melons, thank you very much). In contrast to the straight line of her mouth and the downwards pull of her eyebrows, her voice is wry.]
They couldn't possibly have been working that hard if they were distracted so easily.
[Men. Really.]
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Kida barely has to lift a finger, in fact, though her body beneath the starched shirt is coiled, ready to spring, but she settles for catching the men as they fall instead. She doesn't let them hit the ground--the objective is to preserve the quiet.
As the two men lay knocked out, she kneels, pulling out a length of rope to tie their arms, gently tearing at her apron to muffle them. Their egos will be more bruised than their bodies. ]
They probably see few visitors, so deep in the castle.
[ She imagines her father's door-guards: vigilant, stalwart, bored stiff. It was a rotating shift. ]
Stay at my side.
[ It's the last thing she says before she rises, fluid like water, and brushes out the wrinkles of her tunic, checks her collar. She looks plain, but her bearing conveys her nature.
The king's door is predictably unlocked. In her pocket she holds the other tool Loki provided: a piece of paper with a locking inscription. It'll keep invasives out, until they're done.
They slip inside, footsteps muffled by plush carpeting. It occurs to her she's never been in a proper royal chamber, before: hers and her father's were only cold stone. ]
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The king himself — his true name is Christophe, but the cityfolk never call him anything but The King, capital T, capital K — is in the corner of the room furthest from the door. His dress is quite exquisite, intricate patterns on luxury fabrics in red and gold. He's shorter than one might expect from a king, but what he lacks in stature he makes up for in demeanor. The moment he hears the door close, turns, and his eyes lock on Kida's entering form, he draws his blade.
His sword is kept in a sheath at his side, but it looks shiny and unused. He holds it out in front of him, pointing it in the direction of the women.]
Guards!
[A futile endeavor, but he calls for them nonetheless.]
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Kida's eyes sweep the room casually, curious, trying to line up the pieces and finding the holes aren't lining up: the man inside the room is incongruous with the man presented outside, Odette's face at every turn.
She barely has time to press the locking rune on the door before he draws his weapon. Kida reacts little aside from assessing it—assessing him—coolly, one shoulder pointing towards him, turning away from the door and into the room. She does not draw. She raises one hand, just a bit, enough to tell Riza there was yet nothing to worry about; in any case, Riza's gun would be enough against a simple blade, ornate though it might be. That is not what they came for.
Despite her attitude towards the king's actions, she's coming in with a bias she'd inwardly accepted, but she sees little kingly in the man before her, the taut line of his shoulders. ]
Good evening, your majesty.
[ Her voice is calm, careful. She lets a silence draw out, saying-without-telling that the three of them are, for now at least--alone. ]
You will have no need for your sword, I promise you. We have come for a moment of your time.
[ Her eyes on his. She trusts Riza will step in if she's needed, and so Kida doesn't look to her. ]
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(It won't be more than a second's time anyway for her to lift it back up and fire, far less time than the king should have lest he leave his spot and race towards them—)
Riza splits her attention, ears attuned to the lull of Kida's voice while her eyes flick throughout the room, taking in the king's appearance, the bed, the ornate decorations. She doesn't speak yet, content for the moment to leave the two royal members to their talk.]
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After a moment, it becomes apparent that no guards are coming. Helpless to defend himself, it seems he must listen to their demands.]
What do you want?
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To speak with you, and discuss the state of this city.
[ She doesn't add if you are amenable, because really, she didn't come all this way to care about how he feels about it. Her mouth is pulled down, but her expression comes off determined rather than outright stern. The chambers are vast enough to include a round table and chairs for the morning meal: she motions to these now, knowing with some disgust that the other seating option would be the used bed. ]
Let us sit.
[ It's not command, but it's a very string suggestion, and implies in the same breath that they'll be here a while. As they settle, it's, funnily enough, Bolin who springs to mind. His face leaning it, eyes bright with mischief. Watch out! He might have spies everywhere!
She wonders if Riza's gaze is travelling the room now. Kida keeps hers on the king. ]
Your people tear each other apart. You have done little to quell the tension--and it has been allowed to continue since the festival of light.
[ A beat while she considers him. If he feels judged, it's because he is. ]
Why?
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While Kida focuses her attention on the king, Riza does a sweep of the room. There isn't any visible danger she can see, though it's not wholly impossible that something akin to their own mindspeak network is set up in the castle as well. Still, the rumors of magic throughout town have been weak at best and she dismisses the possibility for the moment for the lack of substantial evidence.
Her eyes travel briefly back to the royal pair, and she speaks up briefly to tack on a few words at the end of Kida's own question.]
Your people and the goblins....all of them are suffering.
[She's reminded of Phoenix, and of Hellboy and his less-than-conventional looks. There isn't only one party suffering through this conflict.]
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The goblins' suffering is through no fault but their own.
[This, at least, he says with resolution.]
I will not be blamed for the actions of another. If my people take issue with the goblins, it's because there's issue to be taken.
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Her expression says 'spare me', but really, her disbelief doesn't stop the truth. She'll have to re-examine all they have in light of this division in his mind. ]
Why ask for us to intervene, then? [ She reaches into the breast pocket of her stolen uniform and tugs out--a bit dog-eared now from age and frequent handling--a letter, marked with the royal seal. She lays it out on the table, its ink still gleaming faithfully, thanking them for their help. ]
You've locked yourself away, and for what? Did you think we would wipe your streets for you? [ Her lip curls. She's looking past him at the bed. ] While you enjoy yourself.
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Kida's question is one she wants an answer to as well. The king had best have a good reason for his actions of late. Used as she is to following the orders of her superiors and acting as a simple 'dog' of the military, she's always done so with some sense of purpose and reason. Ishval still sits heavy on her shoulders. One well-worn but ugly scar is enough; she doesn't want to add a second to that collection.]