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I'm sorry everyone. My daughter was born a few weeks ago and there's been some complications. I'm sorry I haven't said anything sooner, but I haven't been able to get away until. I won't be able to continue posting for the foreseeable future. Once again, I'm very very sorry about this.
"How interesting." She hears the words crawl through her mind as Thorn speaks. Yes, she thinks. Interesting indeed. The chance that Thorn has been seduced by devils has certainly gone up. I'm sure a devil would love for the Supreme Elect to show in Alastor. It'd be child's play after that. No opposition at all. Sebi recalls her lessons on the lower planes. If there's one thing that is certain about the legions of hell, it's that they covet power in all its forms, and power over others is so very sweet to them, irresistible really. How Thorn answered that question... Still, she thinks, It does not prove that he has been turned. He either has been corrupted and is unaware of the trap this conversation is, or he is aware and toying with me. Or he is uncorrupted. For now, though, I will proceed as if he is aware of it. Hubris may be an ally, instead of blindness. He certainly has the home to accompany it... She says, "That is quite a bold move to be made, but sometimes the victor is the one to take risks. Still, with Cheliax so close, I would certainly fear for our country's leader in Alastor. What if there were assassins! It sounds like a plot in those awful books they hawk at the markets these days, swashbuckling men and the women in chains just waiting to be saved." And let's see if he's been having us followed. "Like that Cawmirth Ravenheart fellow. What a barrel of wasted words those books." She shakes her head in disgust while watching Thorn. She's done it so many times for so many trivial things with acquaintances that it comes so naturally. Sometimes she thinks those high-born parties are just thrown to criticize anything else but themselves.
Yes, congrats Cawmirth!
Sebi controls how much wine she takes in. Only the minimum amount of sips to avoid seeming odd or out of place. Not too much to impair judgement, but just enough for the whispers to stop. Warmth travels through her veins, expanding, multiplying. But then something cold starts to creep in, consuming the warmth. She says, setting her glass down, "Say I were to have full access to the Supreme Elect and the powers that go along with that position. What would you suggest I do with such power?" She changes the subject again, blinking and looking around: "You are surrounded by beauty everywhere you look up here. How long did it take to build such a place? Did you have a hand in it?"
Still very much enjoying the campaign on my end. Just finished up a story that kind of took the wind out of me, and it bled over into my posts. Sorry they've been a bit erratic lately. I'm interested in where this dinner and the meeting with Kinch will take the party, but I also think that recklessness has its place in a story. Especially for Sebi's character, she can sometimes be a little...uneven, and I expect it may get her into trouble in the future.
Sebi takes the glass into her hand, feeling eyes on her from everywhere, even seeing a few translucent pairs in the reflection. She lets a sip roll onto her tongue, savoring it for a moment before putting the glass back down. "Well, Lord Thorn, I believe honesty is the best approach here." She waits for a moment. "As to my involvement in this most important of diplomatic missions, I was called upon to lend my talents by the Supreme Elect and so I packed my things that day and was off. I must confess that the Supreme Elect's letter came as a surprise, but as you must know, the Moncrief name does not hold the power it once did. It seemed an opportunity to increase my family's standing. "And so to be truthful I am quite perplexed as to what is transpiring here in Alastor. To think that our countrymen would forsake the freedoms that unite us at the first sign of adversity. It's not like the Alastor I was told stories of as a girl. The griffons dotting the skyline, a hardy people." Sebi lapses into solipsism for the briefest of moments. "I wonder what their ancestors would think of them now." She looks up and shakes her head, the girl coming back. "Forgive me. Um, let us talk of more pleasant things. How are you Lord Thorn? Have you fared well in the winters here since..." She takes another sip of wine, this time a fraction more hurriedly. She does not let it linger.
Sebi curtsies low and then takes Thorn's arm and lets him lead her onward. "Very well, my lord." She looks back at her guards and nods. As they walk, she casts her eyes about the place saying nothing for a few moments, taking it all in. She wonders how many have seen this sight. She wonders what sights this place has seen, too. After the moments pass, she says, "You have built quite a life for yourself here, Master Thorn. I believe even the Supreme Elect himself would be jealous of the view and your environs." She spares no glances back; she keeps her eyes forward.
The night is quiet around her. Up this high, Sebi feels almost like she's walking amidst the stars instead of them hanging over her. She takes long strides through the gate, saying only "My gratitude," to the guards. The night is quiet. She remembers as a girl long shadows trailing into her room accompanied by strange voices. Some laughing and some stern. Some used her name. Little, broken whispers beneath her bed and behind her closet door, and she would run to the closest of her aunts' rooms, aunt Wren's room, and she would throw herself onto the bed, fear shaking her hands, wetting her face with tears. "Your fear is a disgrace," aunt Wren would say. "What do we do with the monsters behind our doors? And little Sebi would say back, "We...make them obstacles. Use them all up, to be ready for the next ones." And aunt Wren would say, "The monsters never stop coming. There's always the next one behind some other door." And each night young Sebi would say over and over in her bed, "Obstacles, obstacles, obstacles," under the covers, peaking out occasionally at her closet door. As they made their way to the front doors of Thorn's mansion, she wondered if another monster lay behind them, and what she would do if it turned out that there was.
"Hmm, it's only a shred of evidence amidst conjecture, but it gives some credence to Thorn's character. That means we should be more cautious than ever around him this evening." When Callista and Cawmirth go to make their exit, Sebi says, "I believe this night will carry the fate of Alastor. Please, whatever you do," and she glances at Lavinia, "Don't get caught. And don't trust anyone. There is no safety net here; no guards that are above reproach. Be careful." She takes a few steps across the floor and gathers her things. "Shall we be off, Captain?"
The thinking of a soldier, always hastening to the sword. Sebi says to Lavinia, a slender hand to her chin, "The mercenaries would indeed be helpful, but we have come on a diplomatic mission, and so I believe force should not be our first move here. Callista and I are more than capable of meeting words with words." "To drown in the words, the words, the words..." The voices say in their room, amidst the creaking of old boards now bereft of their illusions.
Is this going to be a Callista/Cawmirth mission while Lavinia and Sebi go to dinner with Thorn? Kinch has to step down from his podium sometime, but I assume that won't be until around dusk.
Even through the crowd's cheering, Sebi can hear the japes of her ancestors. They say, "I died for this?" and "Freedom looks different from my day." and "Tell this fool, girl. Put him in his place." She turns to her companions and reads the looks on their faces. Time to go. She turns back to Kinch and looks at him again. It is tempting, to face him here and now, can feel the pull of the girl in her, to rise to a challenge. But she manages to quell the voices and thoughts, at least for a time. She distracts herself by looking around, trying to see if there is anyone else of interest in the crowd.
Sebi sits on one of the beds and sloughs the pack from her shoulders. The magic strengthening her muscles to be able to carry such weight still doesn't prevent the soreness, she's found. Everything has a cost, she thinks. "Now," she says, "I believe we were discussing where to go next. We still have some time before dinner...and on that point..." She turns to Cawmirth, then Callista, then Lavinia. "I had thought to borrow Lavinia for this dinner, if that is acceptable? Perhaps Callista too if you would like? You've both shown yourselves to be very capable. I can think of no one better suited to come with me." "The only other person I would very much like to see before leaving is Kinch."
I too think we should take a look at Kinch.
Sebi bows to Mistress Ling and says, "Yes, thank you very much, madam. These arrangements will do just fine." Safest to assume Thorn an enemy for now, and also to assume he has eyes and ears at a locale he would recommend. She remembers her aunts' lessons, especially Kalie's, the enthusiastic raps on her knuckles when a spell turned wrong. "You're giving it too many parts. Simplicity. Magic is a shortcut, shortcuts within shortcuts, a web bending in on itself. The less complex, the less ground you stand to lose." The simplest option would be to shift locations. Two sets of rooms. An excuse that they stayed out too late, too far away. That we can control, but how best to shift Kinch's location without being in front of the entire council? I'll have to think on it more... She says to her companions, "Let us discuss our plans for the evening while we get situated."
Sebi says, "In my studies I have learned a few languages. I know the language of the Abyss, the Celestial tongue as well, Elven, Devil-speak or Infernal, and the trade language of the Darklands."
Sebi keeps her voice low to the captain as they walk. When she talks, her voice is half her own, and half something, someone, else. She says thoughtfully, "Indeed I do, Captain. It presents an odd dilemma, or, an opportunity for one with a talent for larceny. I'm sure a skilled burglar could slip in and discover any evidence of Thorn's deeds whilst this dinner is conducted and be away without anyone the wiser. "It would be a risk. Many moving parts." She looks a girl and not a girl. Confidence and fear. Fire of youth, frost of the dead. When she is at her best, she exists in the center, a special place. A memory: a hint of her mother's arm wrapped around her infant body. She can never see her face or anything else about her but her arm, and feel the warmth coming from it. She holds it as long as she can, but it quickly fades, leaving only the girl behind. "Come, let us go inside and see about our rooms."
Sebi whispers, partly bent over and trying to keep a fraction of grace in the position, "We should be careful, this is true, Professor. And you offer wise council. However, after obtaining the mercenaries, we may face not a city mired in upheaval, but a militia army loyal to Cheliax when next we wish to enter the city if these events are left to boil over, so to speak. But our next destination is clear in Kinch." She continues walking, short steps away from the Aerie. "Thorn and Kinch, I believe have the most to lose, and the most to gain, respectively, if they are working together to fuel this rebellion. Thorn is a politician though. It will be difficult to catch him in any kind of falsehood as he is likely toeing the line between the factions, waiting to see who will come out on top. "Regardless, the Iridescent Repose, and his dinner offer may be a trap. I assume you are as familiar with traps as you are with locks, Professor?" A half smile lights across her face. She holds Cawmirth's gaze for a long moment. When the others join them, she looks to them and bows her head to Lavinia and Callista and says, with too much exuberance to be real, "Good to see you again, friends. I have heard of the most wonderfully exclusive inn just now. Should we go there and talk? Somewhere else?"
Sebi bows again. ”Thank you, Lord Thorn. It would be most gracious of you to write a letter on my behalf. I look forward to tonight.” She turns to the professor after a few moments. ”Professor, let us be on our way so that we do not take up any more of this good man’s time.” On their way back, through the crowds, she keeps an eye out for anyone following behind. She whispers,”Professor, take care to notice anyone following us. Do you think our guest to be trustworthy?”
Gah. Posted it in the discussion!
Sebi bows equal with Thorn's own. "I have only just arrived. Do you have a recommendation of where to stay? Somewhere close to a bakery perhaps? When I was girl and stayed in the villa at Almas they used to have the most marvelous of bakeries just down the block, and the aroma upon waking every morning always signaled a joyful time." For a moment she is lost in thought, staring down at the map. She is slow to look from it. When she does, she says, "I may ask to be introduced to the other councilors at a later time, but right now Kinch is our priority. And it would be my honor to be received with such generosity, my lord. But, would it be acceptable if I brought along," and she glances sidelong at Cawmirth, "Guests? They come from all walks of life and would certainly tell more interesting stories than the boring ones that fill my days, to be sure." Sebi folds her hands in front of her dress. "But, if a more private dinner is your desire, then I am happy to accommodate. I am interested to learn more of this great city and its people, and would delight in trading stories."
She can't put her finger on it, but something has changed in the room. The air, though cool, has grown colder, the voices more distant. Up until recently, Sebi had believed Thorn to be simply an official over his head, and he still may well be. But she also remembers his bid for Supreme Elect. No one gets that far without a shrewd mind. The muscles in her shoulder ache again. "Master Thorn, please excuse the professor. Though he lacks a certain eloquence to him, he does indeed have a grasp of the facts of the situation. We must be certain of our allies in these dark times. We need a way to draw Kinch from the Plinth and onto grounds of our choosing." She smiles. The curtains flow about the room without a breeze. "And who could resist a summons from you, Lord Thorn?"
Okay, I'll be back home shortly and will write up a post. Let's just hope Thorn doesn't start shooting chains out of his chest. -Posted with Wayfinder
Sebi says, ”The one true line of defense has fallen to treachery, now we must find another, which is precisely why this delegation has come to Alastor first. We must unite the Windburn Vale into a force capable of holding out against Cheliax until help arrives.” She sighs. ”Perhaps it is true Almas has not given Alastor the attention it deserves, perhaps this was a blind spot of the council, placing all their faith in the Iron Keep and its…” She starts to say his name, but thinks better of it. “Lord. But, now is the time for Alastor to show its worth to our great country, and, if successful, take a place of great prominence in the years to come.” She stands. ”If Andoran still has your support, Master Thorn, then I beg you to rally as many of the nobles and any others you can to our side. We will confront Kinch and let him see the folly such a surrender of freedom would bring, both now and later.”
Sebi turns the situation over in her mind. She looks at the map, then back to Thorn. "Hmm," she says. "Then am I correct in assuming that if Kinch were to be persuaded of the folly of such a secession, then Alastor," you she makes clear with a gesture, "Would give any resources it could commit to the defense of our great country?" "Tell me about your last encounter with the man. Did he seem...different? Sebi thinks, If we are to face Kinch in a battle of words, the contest cannot be on his home ground, the people around him. That way surely lies defeat. We need a way to shift the setting to our advantage...
Sebi curtsies at Thorn's arrival and listens to him amidst the whispers. She says, gesturing to Cawmirth, "Allow me to introduce our chronicler for this exploit, professor Cawmirth Ravenheart." She waits for a moment, then says, "He speaks the truth in this matter. May we discuss the circumstances within Alastor, and those beyond? I would very much like to hear of Alastor's problems from one who has been here. Please, tell me." She takes a few gentle half steps to end up next to one of the high-backed chairs, casually awaiting Thorn's invitation to sit, which she does when it is given. "So the game begins," the figures in the tapestries say. "Watch now."
Sebi bows to Lavinia. "You honor me, Captain. May luck favor us all today." She turns then to Cawmirth, eying the tengu. "Professor, let us see if we can find a few good folk to ask where Thorn currently resides. It is still morning, so there is a chance we may be able to talk one on one with him for a time without many of his handlers," a bad taste forms on her tongue when she says the word, like spies, "Around him." "My apologies, Professor, but I hope for all our sakes that your writings of this mission will turn out to very boring, and without incident."
Yep, sorry was on the road Sunday and Monday and couldn't get time to post something more involved. The merchant might just need a trade agreement or some such to be greased. I would rather not use our funds until absolutely necessary. If you were Cheliax, though, what better way to disorient your foe than by using their own patriotism against them? My money's on Kinch. But, I will try and be the very best of distractions. Sebi knows all about that: haunted with a capital F! -Posted with Wayfinder
Sebi says, "I thank you for your aid Master Onario. You have been most helpful thus far," she pauses to consider adding a bit of humor, and says sweeping a hand over the table, "Food for the mind, as well as the body." She takes only what is required of her by decorum. A slice here, a morsel there, all the while carefully controlling her speech, manners, motions. She has danced thus dance before. "I believe a trade is not a trade without a return of services rendered, do you not think so? You wanted to know of any gossip hanging about Almas, correct? You should have seen the new sculpture that made its way to the square this year, an absolute horrid piece in all the right ways. Artists these days. I suppose it's like any profession, most are only pretending at what they truly are. I'm sure my companions could offer you more, but it may be time we take our leave. Time is always of the essence when important matters are at hand." -Posted with Wayfinder
"Thank you master Onario" Sebi takes her seat with care, so as to allow Lavinia and the other soldiers to keep a good eye on the doors. Looking at the view, she finds herself already missing the villa. She settles into the old lines of thought again, of breakfasts and carriages and silk lives, almost forgetting the depraved horror they witnessed just the night before. When Onario returns, Sebi says, taking her time, "I must beg your forgiveness sir, as I have you at somewhat of a disadvantage compared to my companions. I have yet to make my introduction, but wanted to do so personally. My name is Sebi Moncrief, matriarch of the Moncrief family. And I am deeply honored to be received with such kindness." "This place is quite lovely. I have heard rumors of Alastor's beauty, and they do not do it justice. I too am interested in its goings-on. Tell me, what rumors does Alastor hold today?"
She'd always hated teleportation. It made her stomach turn at odd angles, and she didn't like the way she felt in the minutes after, slightly off center, like she wasn't quite supposed to be there, like reality was catching up. Through the slight haze of the shift, the mechanical owl still manages to intrigue her for a moment, and so does the programmed message it affects, but what intrigues her more are her companions' reactions to it. It seems no one else has been trained in the knowledge of the arcane. She takes a moment to put back on the boots that she had taken off and to store those that teleported them here back in the pack. She says, while working, "Let us find our host and make our introductions to him. The spells woven across this contraption may be too limited for our host to have heard us." She hoists the bag over her shoulder when finished, and then proceeds to the door, checks it over once for mechanical oddities, and then if it is safe, she opens the door and moves through.
I'm OK with you prompting any applicable knowledge checks. If the knowledge check is directly a part of our character's action, though, I take it we'll still be rolling those, right? Like if Sebi wanted to go research gugs, then I would make the check as part of my post still? -Posted with Wayfinder
Once agreed, Sebi sets the bag down in front of the others and pulls out the boots with little ceremony. She sits on the bed and takes her time with the boots, careful not to disrupt her armor’s glamor too much. Once on, she stands and pads over to the center of the room and takes Alastor’s scroll from her pack and unrolls it. She studies the image for a moment, all in silence, and as soon as she has it firmly in her mind (No distractions now, I beg of you…), she rolls it back up and puts it away and holds out her hands, palms up for the others to grab. When they do, Sebi closes her eyes. ”Trust, then?” the boards creak. The cold wind moans at the window. She says, ”I would go farther, if the fates allow.”
Sounds good to me. I would think openly declaring the reasons for our visit right off the bat would start a panic throughout Alastor, and possibly in the surrounding environs. Sebi plans to petition for a private meeting first. Also, she'll buy 2 scrolls of sending while in Alastor. -Posted with Wayfinder
Sebi follows Callista and Lavinia in and listens to their reasonings. Everything is quiet around her for the time being. Although her magic helps her carry her packs, it does not help the mental weight she feels with them resting on her shoulders. The currency to buy loyalties, or reveal them. She says at last, "I didn't want to say outside, but the magic I command is of a more straightforward sort. It is the armor that commands this deception, not I." "Until we arrive, we won't know for sure what we're dealing with. But to save time, the good captain could use her military background with councilor and Callista and the professor could choose another, lesser councilor, then the three of you join back at the teleportation rendezvous and meet with the others as a group. We should have an emergency signal should one of us be in trouble as well, any ideas?" -Posted with Wayfinder
Sebi hadn’t wanted to return to the villa, to those worries and life that she’d left behind if only for a little while (it felt so long ago now…), and so she hadn’t. She’d searched in this part of Almas for the most up-scale inn she could find, a difficult feat to be sure, but she’d finally settled on one, and hurriedly gone up the stairs after paying a squat woman with deep age lines in her face. There was a large window in the room, and after hiding her belongings, taking off her armor, and dressing for sleep, Sebi watched the clouds above scrolling in front of the big, cold moon. She looked at her eyes’ reflections in the glass. ”Can you do it?” she whispered to herself. ”Can you follow it all the way down this time?” Her jaw tightened. ”And for who?” She drew the heavy curtains, and went to bed soon after, the questions still hanging in the dark air. In the morning, she rises, her mind still believing somehow that she’s in the villa. The displacement washes through her when the dirt in the corners of the floor comes into view. The wrong night stand. The wrong footsteps in the hall beyond. She dresses quickly. Almas in the early morning still shines, window added to window and multiplied across a dozen inns and homes and places of business. She doesn’t have time to think of failing them all. She gathers up her belongings and puts on her armor and lets the glamer drip down the steel while she checks everything over. Satisfied, she takes her leave of the room fast and efficient. She glides through street crowds, ignores criers and salesmen and vendors and takes the open, public ways to Callista’s place. When she sights the building (after making a few wrong turns here or there), she sees Lavinia and Callista talking out front. She catches the last half of the conversation as she is making her way up to them. When there is a moment, she says, ”I agree that Alastor’s council may prove difficult. However, I do not wish to spend too much time on them if it becomes clear Thorn’s hold on them is absolute. We have less than a month to rally as many of the settlements to our cause as we can. Also, it may be difficult to hide my presence within Alastor for long. I could distract Thorn with my presence to give you enough time for your dealings. What do you think?”
When the corpse of Kasoval Opus is still once more, Sebi stands without a word and flexes her knee. Sensation prickles back into her foot, her ankle, and up into her calf. At the same time, the muscles in her shoulders are coiling tighter. She stretches her long neck side to side and around, and rotates her shoulders. These motions have the gravity of ritual about them. She uses the time to collect herself, and to allow for the roar of whispers to fade as it always does. She listens to Lavinia and simply nods her assent. She thinks about going back to the villa as the captain walks out of the room. She'd already prepared herself to leave, "To die?" creaks the floor, "To run?" groans the door. She finds that she doesn't really want to go back now. She only wants to go forward. "Professor," she says, "If you are indeed to remain behind, I would stay and aid your research if you wished it. My expertise will not be as complete as yours, but my lessons have touched on a wide variety of knowledge." She points to one of the walls. "And I too know this language." Checks to aid if Cawmirth accepts:
Sebi thinks for a moment. She's aware of the eyes on her, almost too aware. A slight shake of her head to get it back to the task at hand. She leans harder down on her knee, only just starting to ache now. "Tell me about the Order of the Cypress, especially in relation to this 'Lady' and Janser's daughter."
Yes, it's great! I use this to get the creative juices flowing now before sitting down to write. I had been neglecting my writing time, and this has helped a lot.
Sebi continues in the soft tone she used before. She asks, ”What was your involvement in Lord Janser’s betrayal of Andoran and the occupation of the Iron Keep?” And then: “What was to be your next mission or goal after your transformation?”
Yeah that makes sense. That's weird the way they did it like that; I didn't notice it when I looked over the ability the first time. So, for the questions, would it be better to have one per post, or in the interest of time I could post three general questions and then leave the fourth open for a specific question relating to an answer. Which would you prefer?
Still kneeling, still looking softly on the now-dead man in front of her, Sebi says without turning, ”Well done, Captain.” A single look of surprise. She hadn’t expected the man to lash out so soon, thought she could reason with his human side. And yet, she’d let the girl she was--and not the matriarch--flash across her face for just a moment. A moment of hesitation. She was no one’s damsel. ”Now let us see if Mr. Opus is more pliable beyond death’s gate.”
That same fog wells up in her throat as before, in the fortress’s courtyard. Memory given form, spiraling up through her. Andoran summers, tilled fields in the afternoon sun, faces and lives of long-dead relatives smiling, laughing, crying, dying. She remembers the pale, lightless sun above the realm of her ancestors, focuses on it. Lets the fog trail out from her mouth, snaking down along the floor, and into Opus’s still form.
Sebi is left in her thoughts in the aftermath of the spell, still thrumming from the energy. A few seconds later, she maneuvers herself next to Lavinia and whispers, "Captain, I have doubts regarding this...situation. Who leaves a thing such as this within the heart of Andoran and does not watch over it? Why leave such a loose end so easy to find, unless precautions have been taken? Please keep vigilant. This may be a trap." She then strides over to the man and kneels down next to him. In the softest tone she could emit, she says,"We are not here to hurt you. Pay no mind to the professor's jests. Tell me what happened to you, what lead you to here. It's such a heavy burden to carry, don't you agree? Let me help you. Share the load."
"So be it." She whispers low, the potent magic always taking the most from her. "One day, one hour, one moment to betray. On the strings beneath the world, correct this mistake so on it will play." Cold winds kick up, coalescing around the chains. Sebi closes her fist and the magic spills from her. She glared at the mass of chains. "Break.
Sebi watches the professor in his study of the room. ”It’s magic, whatever it may be. My meager lessons on such matters never touched on this. No doubt the professor can illuminate this mystery.” She lets the magic well up inside her, bubbling to the top, almost spilling out into the world. She holds it there, just beneath the skin. The magic aches to be loosed. ”I can dispel it if you wish.”
Oh man I didn't even notice I misspelled that! I laughed for a good couple minutes when I finally saw it because of your post, and even then after a double-take.
It was worse than Sebi imagined. The chains suspended in the room, the sickening movement of them. She stands with the others, gobsmacked. She doesn't move. She forgets about the professor's impressive skills at larceny, Callista's magic, Lavinia's prowling. This...thing, she thinks. She takes another moment to collect herself. She feels the magic pulling inside her, begging to be used. A little more of the Moncrief curse out in the world, but it can't be helped. She traces a symbol much like her birthmark and whispers once, twice, a third time: "Once again to be perceived, through the curses we will cleave."
Sebi produces her morningstar and shield from her pack, taking her time with every motion. She whispers the name, "Aliada", one of the first arcanists to start creating magic items for the family in the course of her research, and then the glamer that surrounds Sebi's armor fades, revealing a suit of finely made full plate etched in Moncrief runes. The captain's description unnerves her. She puts her body into motion instead of dwelling on it. "If he is alive, then we must hurry," she says, moving up the steps to the door. She looks back over her shoulder to the others. "If he is not, there are still ways left to us." With that she scans the door for any obvious dangers and then turns the knob to see if it is locked.
Composure. Poise. The thoughts punctuate each step, each breath. She feels off in this place. She was sure she'd be out of her comfort zone whilst traveling to meet Callista and the professor, but did not expect the extent. The rules are very few here. The art dealer mentioned a wealthy patron, and that might mean guards. Better to tread carefully. "This is no place for a Moncrief!" voices screech through her head, interrupting her thoughts. Not only her aunts' past teachings, memories given form and pain, but those voices of previous Moncrief matriarchs, all echoing through her at once. It almost makes her sick, as if her head were a struck bell. Her temples ache. She focuses on her poise and composure like she was taught. She says, "If he is as pleasant as he sounds, then he will no doubt jump at the chance to answer the door to such...magnificent guests as we!"
Sebi fumbles over the words, flustered."I...err. Suppose that would be...acceptable?" Callista very much in her element. "Let us go then." She clears her throat, warily glancing about as she lets Callista lead her further on.
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