"Thank you, Von Zombi. I am happy to help." Rashida sits and takes up the needle and thread, waxing the thread to improve its strength and weaving some reinforcing thread into the flesh nearest the severed edges before securing the finger with large, bold stitches. "There's a technique to this, you see..."
Gigus watches closely, blue eyes bright, occasionally twitching a finger to tease Rashida's snake charm.
Rashida stitches slowly but steadily as she and her patient chat quietly, until Rashida suddenly snaps, "Would that I could burn this place to the ground!" quite loudly. She looks around and laughs, then lowers her voice and resumes stitching.
"I fear I am a victim of habit rather than necessity," Vorian says with a chuckle, watching the Baron's operation, "No matter though, I'm sure these legs of mine will wear out eventually."
Moments later the servant comes rushing out, presenting Vorian with a sleek, black cane, adorned with a silver wolf head at its top.
"Most pieces in my collection are disturbed as little as possible, but there are a few I can't help but to take along," he says, glancing across the cane's length before pressing it to the ground.
Rashida glances up from her stitching. "A most handsome piece, Lord Ritter. Does its design have any special significance?"
"Thank you, for everything Baron". Cassie says resolutely as the dance ends with a flourish. She looks around the floor and to Vorian. Speaking to the Undead Baron has lifted her spirits dramatically. Gently she taps her fan against the side of her face.
Cassie smiles; "Of course, I am amenable to that." She gets up from the board and has a looks at is slightly puzzled; "I think the game, will take a bit to start." Gently she hooks her arm in his.
"Well, although most of those back home do not know it, I have always loved dancing. I used to sneak out at night to go watch shows and performances; to this day my father does not know. You won't tell, will you?"
Taraz chuckles. "One never knows what I might information I might choose to reveal. After all, if we survive this game, you may choose to tell your father yourself just because you're happy to be alive."
Taraz gestures to orchestra, and another slow song begins to play to the relief of all the Paso Doble dancers. Taraz resumes dancing with Kimefe if she is inclined. Her youth and vitality a refreshing change from some of the more calculating and jaded ladies in the room. As they dance, a tension not quite noticed previously seems to relax in the wastrel.
The zombie also peers with interest at Ritter's new cane.
"Your taste is impeccable, Lord Ritter. Tell me, are you familiar with fencing? I know some who fence also often carry a cane when they cannot carry a smallsword."
"Ballestra Into A Lunge, Parried, Riposted, Attempted Parry, Disengaged, Lateral Parry, Slow Riposte, Parry Misses, Blood." Gigus suddenly chants, seeming unaware that he does.
Those watching the dance floor notice that Kimefe suddenly slumps in Taraz's arms. The woman is deep in unconsciousness and does not look like she would be woken easily.
Rashida jumps to her feet, grabbing a bottle of wine and dashing over. "Kimefe? Taraz! What happened?" She tries to help revive the fallen woman.
"I've seen my fair share of matches but have never partaken in it myself," Vorian says with a wry smile, putting a hand in his pocket and stretching out his back. He then brings the cane to eye level, looking over it once more, "I have such a cane in my possession, but I do not usually carry it around like such. I've found in the past that my hosts are less than appreciative of concealed weapons. For obvious reasons, of course."
Vorian is momentarily distracted by Cassie's departure, before he turns back to Rashida.
"Old European folklore claims that silver possesses the power to ward away evil spirits, as well as those that would embody them. Vampires, ghouls, hags... or werewolves, what have you," he says, looking into the wolf head figurine's eyes, "Superstitious nonsense, of course, but many aristocrats were always sure to carry silver regardless. This one in particular was actually passed down to me from a distant relative."
He nearly drops the cane at the sudden sight of Kimefe's fall, leading him to glance from her to Taraz with an incredulous frown on his face.
"Not to worry, she said that she was feeling sleepy even as we danced. I think the ennui of not having anything exciting happen at the party yet has caused her to choose to escape in sleep."
Taraz easily carries the slender young woman and places her on the alcove divan. Leaving her there, he draws the curtain and returns to the crowd.
Rashida accompanies the pair to the alcove, checking on Kimefe and leaving the bottle of wine for when the young lady awoke.
She returns to the tables, shrugging. "She seems well enough. I have heard of sudden sleep like this, but never seen it. Perhaps something exciting will happen to wake the sleeping beauty soon."
The big zombie is half out of his chair a bare second after Kimefe's fall, but he checks himself as Massri returns to the table and sits back down.
"I am glad. The timing of her sudden fit of narcolepsy was unfortunately disconcerting."
Gigus looks down at his hands, which had been curled into blocky fists as he rose.
"Your stitching job is immaculate, Most Holy. I thank you."
He then turns back to Ritter with a grin.
"I believe we can strike zombies from your list of creepy-crawlies that are warded by silver, good sir."
As Cassie opens the large French windows to the Balcony, the pale moon casts it's luminescence down upon the pair; "Duke of whom do you speak as a player of games." Her face holds a pale sheen, ruby red lips against her pale skin. Seeing that Kimefe is in good hands, she moves over to one of he plant-pots her fingers entwine around a flower.
Cassies' breath catches in her throat. Instinctively she grasps the stem of the plant, it snaps off in her hand. She is left with a large red rose in her hand, she raises it to her nose to hide her blushes. "Oh really?" she turns to look up at the moon. "You have someone you are interested in?"
"Superstitions, Lord Vorian? Hardly. The blood drinker, the night walker, the ghul; children of Sekhmet, Anubis, Iblis; mankind is right to fear those who mean them ill, who lurk in the shadows waiting to strike. It is one reason Bast, daughter of Ra, is so revered. She had the courage to venture into the dark to slay evil and protect mankind. For that, her children are honored." Rashida nods at Dutchess Meowselsworth, smiling slightly as she reassembles the sewing kit with nimble fingers, handing it over to the Baron. "Just in case you need it later, Baron."
As Cassie and the Duke stand together, Taraz can't help but overhear. He chuckles and glances back at the alcove.
"Do you hear that, Kimefe?" he says with amusement. "The Duke doesn't think I am obvious enough." As Kimefe is asleep, Taraz realizes he will be the only one amused at the private joke.
Cassie leans forward, arching her back delicately as she slowly moves towards the broad-shouldered Duke. "Oh..." her breath catches as the moon beams flit across her face. The mask gleams for a second, causing the Duke to squint. Cassie uses this distraction to slide the rose away, revealing her ruby lips as she kisses the Duke.
Time seems to drift away from her as their embrace slowly intensifies. Cassie forgets the problems, party, the machinations Von Ryuko has put them through and gives herself into the moment.
Taraz ignores the spectacle on the balcony and walks over to where Rashida sits with the Duchess. Squatting down, he smiles at Rashida and then addresses the purring feline.
"May I scratch your chin and ears, Duchess Kittington?"
"Why thank you, Most Holy," the zombie says as he accepts the kit.
He then nods towards Duke Atredies, visible through the opened doors of the veranda.
"Can I be like him when I grow up?"
The Duchess looks up towards Taraz from her vantage point on one of the chairs, laying on her paws, "It would be my pleasure, Lord Taraz."
Rashida smiles. "Her Ladyship did not care for the proximity of needles."
Pulling up a chair, Taraz scratches Meowselsworth's chin and ears. He also throws in some petting.
Pulling up a chair, Taraz scratches Meowselsworth's chin and ears. He also throws in some petting.
Rashida watchs the Wastrel caress the purring helmet cat for a while, eyelids drooping half-closed behind the golden mask, then almost inadvertently stretches out a hand to join in the caress. "If you don't mind, Duchess," she murmurs, "You are a great comfort."
Cassie breaks away from the Duke; "Oh..."
The flushed countenance is visible despite her mask or clothing, she grasps at her skirts and rushes back through the open glazed doors her head down, heart a pounding.
In the greater luminescence of the Ball-Room Cassie rapidly blinks. Her gaze flows across the room, feeling as if all eyes are upon her a realisation dawns. Glowing vividly in embarrassment, she rushes past the groups of people.
Skirts billowing around her, Cassie reaches the safety of the buffet table. She stands there upon trembling legs. 'Calm yourself, girl. You are not some convent-raised maiden, to be befuddled by a kiss from a handsome older man.'
Placing a quivering hands upon a salmon canapé; she tries to calmly eat it. But the lingering sweetness of the kiss holds firm in her mouth. Cassie picks up the stem of the champagne flute and walks back to the congregation about Ms Meowselsworth feigning a casual demeanour.
Taraz looks up from his stroking of Meowselsworth's fur. He doesn't say anything to the Parisian dance-lover, but the expression he gives her is a strange one coming from him. Unusually unexpressive, Taraz's face is more a mask than his eye cover.
"I see you are none the worse for wear. Perhaps more flushed than when you come from a dance. The Duke does seem an ideal match for one of your...let's say...outlook on life."
"Agamemnon would be proud," Vorian says with a bemused smirk at the spectacle outside.
Watching as Cassie makes her way to the buffet table, Vorian frowns, realizing that he, too, was quite famished. A momentary stride later and he finds himself with a bowl of some exquisitely exotic dish with a forgettable name.
Von Zombi watches the group clustered around the Duchess, smiling faintly to himself, newly-stitched finger playing with the gold bracelet on his other wrist. The blue eyes twinkle and he hums to himself, clearly lost in thought.
Rashida's golden skin begins to glow faintly as she rises from her chair. Turning to face the flustered adventuress, she sweeps her arms straight out from her sides, staring into Cassie's eyes with inky orbs from which all white has fled. Translucent images of black and gold feathers flicker from her outstretched hands to her back, and as she intones , her hollow voice rings through manifold dimensions of unseen reality.
When the last echo dies, the being shudders and blinks. The glowing fades while she slowly lowers her arms, darkness draining from the whites of her eyes until they are human again. "Your hair needs fixing," Rashida says quietly, deliberately, face impassive. "Follow me." She sweeps unlimping towards the ladies room, not looking back to see if Cassie follows, obviously expecting full and immediate obedience.
"The pattern shifts," the zombie notes.
Alessandra rises to her fee and musters her courage. She is pale, and shaking slightly though it's difficult to say whether it's from overwhelming emotion or a simple chill. When the Duke makes eye contact with her she flinches slightly then steels herself to make her announcement. "That was a disgusting spectacle. Disgusting, but quite informative. Now I understand how you've gotten away with it for so long..." Another shudder rolls through her, as she takes a deep breath and hurdles her accusation- "Duke Leto Atredies, I know that you are the Devil who has been colluding with the assassins to cement your own share of the Baron's oil fields. Was it really worth it? Surely even a fifteenth-share of such vast riches would have been enough... why are you so determined to see the rest of us dead?"
"At this time, I would recommend that everyone send a private message to Duke Leto Atredies claiming to be an assassin, so that he cannot connect the assassins together if they message him," suggests Meowselsworth, "I am surprised, but as it is important to back up Ms. Devries, I shall."
Upon hearing Alessandra's accusation, Eldon searches out the Duke, moving up behind the man. "I suggest you speak up." His words are simple and cold. "Let me tell you how we deal with your ilk where I come from..." The general bends in close and whispers into the Dukes ear before moving away.
|
"Interesting that spectacle should have made me a lover in a pair of lovers, how this devil business came about I am not certain. Meowsworth you already sent me such a message and within it claimed you were the devil, your message was either true or false."
"Appologies meows, but now I see your mechanations in this to jump in so immediately, I still have your message cat and shall produce it now!"
Sent Fri, Jun 22, 2012, 03:17 AM
From Meowselsworth
To Duke Leto Atredies
Subject Secrets
----------------------------
I am the Devil, I have scanned you, and I have determined you to be an assassin. Let's meow and you work together. :3 Meowssage me back when you get this.
Cassie looks surprised as Rashida, changes before her eyes. A strange looks crosses her features, of shock or an acncient racial memory. She then bows her head nervously as the Egyptian speaks, her hand going to her hair. 'Is this for a dressing down, or girl-talk.' She follows the woman dutifully to the conveniences, with a look back to Kimefe. 'Help me.' she mouths.
"Perhaps I don't want to be like him when I grow up," Gigus muses to no-one in particular.
"Duke Leto Atredies, anyone could produce that message, which is to say... everyone has received that message. And everyone can confirm receiving that message. Everyone can, in fact, confirm receiving that message at the same time. It was a deception to attempt to draw the assassins out. Professor Devries can confirm that I have shared my communications with her, and she can even confirm that I was considering the ploy since the first hour. I am not the Devil among us," says Duchess Meowselsworth.
"Well, I think it was clever. I only have cleverness at my disposal, and I have acknowledged that it was a ploy I perhaps should not have used. I just wanted to end this with minimal bloodshed," notes Meowselsworth. "Also understand that even if you did rally people to slay me, you would have tricked them into slaying a fellow aristocrat. You will be torn apart. It would only delay the inevitable."
Waking just in time to see the Lady DuSollier silently speak to her, Kimefe jumps up and follows unsteadily, still half asleep.
Cassie slowly comes back to her senses. She looks to Kimefe; "Thanks, um, did everyone see that."
Rashida shakes her head impassively with an undercurrent of anger and listens at the door; "They have accused the Duke of being the Devil!" she whispers loudly.
Placing a hand onto the counter-top, the French-woman's legs feel like they are about to collapse under her. "It must be a mistake." she mutters. She looks to Kimefe, "I don't know." Cassie tries to get her feet under her, sliding off her shoes so that she can stand.