sir rictor cassul, korporal. (templars) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-02-09 20:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, almalexia lliryn, rictor cassul |
we soon confuse the compass and the cross.
Who: Almalexia Lliryn & Rictor Cassul
What: An accidental run-in: researching three-headed magical women & magical plagues, and amongst other things, what these two are like in private.
Where: Lux & Livre.
When: Late January.
Rating: Tame.
Status: Complete!
What had perhaps begun with a visit to the Mages Tower was now continued here, and Lex found herself content to spend her afternoon squarely focused on the materials provided at Lux & Livre. It too possessed an admirable amount of available knowledge, its contents differing but no less valuable than those books housed by the guild. She was well-familiar with the sort of tomes they had in store here, after all, as common as it was that the mage visited and perused the shelves (more so than the curious collection kept under strict observation at the Tower). She’d gone quite the purposeful round this time, in fact, and already a sizeable stack of offerings had been placed on the ground beside her foot, each book pertaining to one peculiar subject or another. Lex’s curiosity and desire for learning, after all, were both quite formidable and they proved as much here. She gazed at the row of books in front of her with a discerning eye, one slight hand hovering near several interesting titles before finally picking one out. Lex added it to the stack and decided, after some amount of careful consideration, that this was perhaps a good time to turn her focus toward one of the available study rooms. She knelt down, attempting to inspect the heavy-looking stack and wondering on the best possible method of transporting the books herself. Certainly, she thought in a sudden burst of introspection, finding a cart might have been a wiser course of action. Pondering the potential of casting Bravery on herself and hoisting the books in her own arms, she didn’t bother to look up at any of the others coming or going throughout the bookshop. If she had, she might have noticed Rictor aimlessly meandering through the aisles, before he turned the corner and practically tripped over her. The man then backpedalled and took a few steps back, trying to regain his composure. Lux & Livre was hardly Ric’s usual stomping ground, but for whatever reason, he’d been spotted in Renshaw’s shop more and more often as the months went on. Book purchases (after some adequate consultation with other reliable mages) would find their way into Rictor’s bag, then his quarters at the Cathedral, then eventually end up balanced in a neat stack on Lex’s desk. So it was inevitable that they’d finally cross paths, considering his lurking and tiptoeing around her territory. “Of all the bookstores in all the city,” Rictor remarked, leaning against the shelves. His arms were crossed and he was trying to look for all the world as if he belonged here—and not venturing into foreign territory for another reason entirely, one bound wholly to the blonde camping in the stacks in front of him. Immersed in her natural element, Lex had no such inclinations as to anticipate Rictor's presence, here, of all places. Thoughts and anticipations of studying interrupted now in a most sudden and dramatic fashion, she took a moment while still kneeling to muster some sort of adequate response (the books before her now easily forgotten in lieu of greater interests). “You have lost your way into this one in particular, or so it appears,” she said, hoisting herself up to her feet (and still the drastic difference in height remained). Lex looked up to Rictor with a deceptively cool expression, one that found itself betrayed by the meager space between the two—a border delineated by the books stacked at the mage’s feet. She gave him an (un?)interested look-over and played at politeness. “Do you require some assistance, perhaps?” “Yeah, I don’t really get the filing system here.” He tapped his finger against the alphabetised shelves and clearly-labelled rows beside them. “I was looking for ‘Three-Headed Magical Women’, but seem to have ended up at ‘Plucky Blonde Mages’, so I guess that means I’m fucking lost.” But then Rictor’s gaze drifted downwards, to the veritable fortress of books Lex had managed to build on the floor. “Then again, I could ask you the very same thing: d’you require some assistance? I seem to recall I’ve some experience in being a pack mule. I know people, they can vouch for me.” That damned smile was still tugging at the corner of his mouth, caught like a fish on a hook, unable to suppress the reaction no matter how hard he tried: the man still constantly lit up around her as if it were Faram’s Mass morning. Lex gave the books at her feet another glance. “I had intended on sorting through these privately,” she admitted, realizing again how many tomes she had compiled. Not with any hint of regret, for the books contained within them a number of pertinent topics to review--but initial intent and prior planning had yet to properly regain their earlier footing. Reaching down to collect some of the books herself, her blonde hair rolling over slim shoulders and obscuring Lex’s features, it was entirely too easy to hide her own inevitable smile. “If you can manage to navigate toward the study rooms without losing your way again, of course,” she said, attempting to sound unaffected. The study rooms in question were, if either craned their necks to look, simply down the aisle and along the nearest wall. Another advantageous feature of this particular establishment, although Lex was far more accustomed to using them for solitary purposes, for when one academic venue became exhausted, there was always another to serve adequately in its stead. Piling books into her own arms, the mage gave a look down the rows behind them, toward the other patrons who may or may not have bothered to give the pair any of their attention--an act better suited toward those attempting some manner of mischief. Rictor’s gaze followed hers, and for a moment, they looked for all the world like two thieves skulking the aisles. “If I try incredibly hard, I ought to be capable of finding my way.” Once she was done taking her fill, Rictor scooped up the rest of the books in a teetering pile in his arms and, after only a few hesitant missteps, headed towards the study rooms. Though he’d been to Lux & Livre several times to shop, this particular aspect had always slipped him by. Partway there, Ric lingered in the medical section and swiped a couple more from the shelves for his own benefit—and then continued, nudging the door open for the two of them. (Privacy waited, quiet and enclosed from the rest of the patrons.) “What’s all this for, anyway?” “Numerous subjects,” Lex answered (in usual vague fashion). Sliding her way past Rictor with practised ease, she settled her armful of books careful on the square study table inside. Before making an attempt to organize the items they had carried as was her usual habit, however, she waited for the door to close and for a greater semblance of privacy. She discovered a great and sudden urge to share all she had experienced of late, and why she had, in fact, continued her studies at Lux & Livre (for it was only another waypoint in a long and complex journey of research). “I visited the Mages Tower recently,” she continued, looking up to Rictor with what may have been eagerness. “For many of these same purposes.” Lex reached out a hand, now, nearly instinctual. “And in fact—” Ric was nosing through her selection of books while she talked, rifling through one after the other until he drifted to a halt beside her, within casual reach. A warmth seemed to have seized in his chest at the sight of Lex so eager and excited, her words spilling over in her enthusiasm to share. So when the knight met her eye again, another smile had settled into place: less the cocky, combative expression of old; something softer, more thoughtful. “And in fact?” he echoed. “I have spoken with Peony Min as well,” she replied, her fingers touching Rictor’s hand gently. Lex recalled the surprise meeting, as unusual as it was to converse with the older woman under such circumstances. “She accompanied me through the library, and I had an opportunity to inquire on a certain subject of interest.” Engaged with conversation as she was, the mage had no way to examine the ease at which her normal placid guise, a serene expression which often betrayed little of her inward feelings, now melted away to more genuine expression. Pride turned to a pensiveness, however, her eyes wandering away and toward the books on the table. “The conflict nearest the tower,” Lex explained. (A brief boldness of curiosity had possessed her to approach the subject, one that had been, at that time, nearly urgent.) “Of course, had I learned anything of particular value, I might not have chosen to continue my research here.” Her hand moved away slowly as she began to toil with the books she had chosen. A number of the titles were self-explanatory, books on magic and its various theories, while a number ranged heavily into the odd and obscure, titles writ in archaic languages and less obvious of topic (and another, a far smaller book, lingered at the very bottom of all these others—easily nudged deeper under the piles with a prod of her finger). “Yeah, I missed that one, so it’s been a bit of a mystery to me too.” There was a trace of bland bitterness in Rictor’s voice, remembering the day itself: being far too late for the action, and frantically checking every route of communication to ensure that no friends or family had been injured in the battle (or that, more precisely, Almalexia hadn’t ended up on the wrong end of that fight). He pulled out the chair nearest her—once upon a time, they wouldn’t have been comfortable with this physical proximity, would have shied skittishly away from such nonchalant contact—and settled himself into it. The knight looked slightly perplexed and daunted by the books, picking up and squinting at one with a wholly unreadable title, his brow furrowing. “Been able to find anything of value about it yet?” He gave a sidelong look at the pair of books he’d hand-selected. “Or the plague? I got to help end it, but still have no fucking idea what caused it. Some people just say it was a sign of Faram being really shitting unhappy with us, and left it at that, but I don’t like that explanation. ” Ric sat at a leisurely sprawl, near enough that he could lean into Lex if desired: a comfortable intimacy that no longer required much particular thought nor clotted his nerves. “A deduction, perhaps,” she said, taking the book from his hand not unkindly. A firm interest in uncovering the mysteries surrounding the city’s recent troubles had been keenly shared between the two, and though her quests for knowledge had been met with a number of setbacks, Lex remained determined to continue her efforts. Standing close to Rictor’s chair, enough to accidentally brush against him as she sifted through the book in her hands, Lex seemed to search for something in particular amidst its esoteric contents. While it was, admittedly, not an exact copy of a book she had read a number of months before, she was relieved to see the content entire had not been reconstrued. “There have been a number of similarities in description to certain events prior,” she explained, just as animate now as she had once been while explaining ancient magic symbols and their intended purposes. (It was enough to send a prickle of familiarity down his spine: he still remembered his weight shifting on her cot at the Grande Cathedral, a crumpled piece of paper in his palm, their heads bent together over an old teleportation spell. One of his first opportunities to consult her under the guise of work.) Lex offered the open book back to Rictor, showing him an illustration of a warrior and an unidentifiable being lingering behind him in the air. While it looked similar enough to a monster, or other strange beast one might expect to find in the depths of the Mist, the description below the picture offered little—especially if one could not read the language. “Perhaps you recall my efforts in aiding the bardic arts?” He peered closer at the drawing, his hand tracing over the faint lines depicting the creature. The precise sketch reminded him of Storm’s own research, excerpts from bestiaries delivered to Rictor’s doorstep regarding the Lich, once upon a time. “Bardic arts?” Rictor trawled his memory as he set the book aside, rapping his fingers contemplatively against the thick cover of a medical textbook, a detailed tract on diseases and epidemiology and transmission vectors that he was, perhaps, a bit too ambitious in picking up. “You mean your work with Chiaro, yeah?” “Indeed,” she replied, lingering near his shoulder. Slowly, over time, the balance between them had shifted, as Rictor had to work less to fill up the pauses. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had to struggle with an inscrutable silence. And so he’d become accustomed to this ebb-and-flow of their conversations, requiring only the slightest of nudges to prompt new topics—and he was content to listen, Lex’s talkativeness still being a charming surprise, even after all these months. “While I had initially dismissed the idea, of course,” Lex said, pointing to the details of the illustration, “of creatures summoned at the will of a certain hume for various purposes, evidence to this effect has proven itself quite...inarguable of late.” After all, most everyone in the city had either seen or heard of the “Three-Headed Magical Woman” who had played a significant role in aiding the city, as well as other similar, much less defined rumors of other encounters. “Although I was not able to confirm as much from my visit to the Mages Tower,” she continued, and her eyes lingered on Rictor as she spoke, alight with unguarded interest, “I believe this deduction serves as adequate explanation for these activities. Why anyone would invest such powers in this manner, however—” Lex sighed, shrugging her shoulders. She realized, of course, that she had no ability to prove her theory, or to search for proper evidence. Gaining knowledge secondhand in these affairs was not something she had begun to favor. The mage lingered on these regrets, silenced briefly as her eyes wandered over the other books on the table (the medical book had, of course, not succeeded in skirting her attention, and she offered the title a silent, curious raise of her eyebrows). “Huh. Sounds like you’re onto something—it’s a route to explore, at the very least.” He caught the shift in Lex’s expression, and gave a small, self-deprecating chuckle in response, nudging the book closer so she could take a look. “Just trying to figure out more about the disease myself. Hearing ancient tales about mythical plagues is one thing—seeing it killing your sister, squire, and Feldwebel is quite another.” A pause, accompanied by Rictor leaning his chin against his hand. “Not the sort of thing you can fight with blade and bullet.” There was something off in his voice, an affected lightness that didn’t ring quite true. Lex had noticed, and her attention drifted easily from the book in question to the man sitting beside her. She had been avoiding lingering on this particular subject herself—and had begun to drift away from the Cathedral when thoughts strayed too far into unwanted memories. Avoiding them in this particular circumstance, however, was not so easily done, and as Lex raised a hand to rest upon Rictor’s shoulder (hadn’t these simple gestures been difficult, once?), she allowed them a brief and reluctant purchase in her thoughts. Indeed, she recalled with keen memory the effect such circumstances had wrought upon him. Sympathy was offered now as then, and Lex leaned down to place a kiss against Rictor’s cheek. Here, in the privacy allowed to them in the study room, she could easily afford such a simple gesture of affection. And while her hand stayed resting gently against his shoulder, the other moved to toy with the medical book’s cover. “If I can assist,” she said, the offer trailing off, uncertain. “Dunno how you could.” Once that response might have been defensive, a gruff brush-off, but instead Rictor turned to give her a cracked grin. The tension in his shoulders ebbed away slightly under her touch. “But the offer’s appreciated anyway.” He caught Lex’s hand then, pulling it closer to press a kiss to her knuckles. The affectionate moment came, and he almost expected to pass, but then it didn’t. “How’ve you been lately, anyway, apart from drowning under research? Lost track of you a bit in Capricorn, since I got pretty busy with an old friend showing up.” A pause, then: “Missed you.” Behind closed doors, their facade of polite distance could melt away—but the more that time dragged on, the less Ric could remember the point of their charade in the first place. It had seemed a good idea at the time, had it not? (Today, it seemed less so.) Bereft of her usual inscrutable mask of calm, Lex allowed herself to display a hint of vulnerability as she turned around the question in her mind. Certainly, the days spent apart, each consumed with their own work and duties, had not gone by unnoticed. Oftentimes her thoughts would stray, indulging themselves in less productive tasks—such as considering Rictor’s opinion on one item or another (not that she was particularly prone to admit to it). “Busy,” she said, and instantly found herself reassessing her answer. A pause of consideration, and then, more quietly—“Concerned”. Perhaps it was too vague an admission, she wondered to herself, and the hand remaining on Rictor’s shoulder began to idly toy with the fabric of his shirt. Her mind had been consumed with a great many subjects of late, whether by necessity or to serve as a distraction. Lex latched onto his admission, however, an inevitable attempt to navigate the conversation away from the tumultuous waters of her own feelings. “An old friend?” It was an expert steering; she was better and better at it by the week, guiding Rictor around the nose without his noticing, and so he happily followed her to another topic. “Siri—that black mage I grew up with, from back in Kerwon? She’s been moved to the Mages Tower here. Maybe the two of you will even run into each other. Be nice, if you do. She’s… a little spacey.” It was the best gentle warning he could give, the simplest way of describing the other mage. “Oh?” The details were noted and filed away in Lex’s mind, easily accessible should such a future incident arise. And then another thought occurred to him. “Actually. For that matter, it’s Filip’s birthday soon, the Blades are throwing him a party, and I’ll probably invite more than a few people. D’you wanna come?” His touch ghosted across her wrist, and Ric had the half-mad, impulsive idea of maybe we can go together, maybe we can just drop this whole fucking act already. “Does this require that I make another appearance at a tavern, I wonder?” Lex gave Rictor a mock-suspicious expression, as though she might protest at another such outing. The possibility of observing this particular upcoming event did not serve to prove entirely unappealing, however, and though she knew they would not go together (this agreement had, perhaps, been slightly easier at the beginning), certainly being in near proximity would prove sufficient enough to satisfy her usual urge for his company. “Nope, have no fear.” His grin broadened. It wasn’t as if her time at Puzzles had been particularly unpleasant, but even so: “This one’ll be outdoors, kinda like a winter picnic. We’ll need some mage help to keep the area warm, too—some small heat palings and so on, and to prevent beasts from wandering into the food and destroying the poor gardist’s surprise party.” They were long past needing such excuses to enjoy each others’ company, but it was offered nonetheless: a hook to draw her in, bait to lure the mage and her thirst for magical challenges. Lex considered it as an added incentive and allowed her curiosity to be piqued at the prospect (and if ever there was a practical excuse to be present at such an engagement, this certainly seemed suitable enough). “Very well,” she said with a grin to match Rictor’s own. “I suppose I can lend the Blades my assistance for a day.” A confident reply, even as she imagined those who would likely attend such a celebration. Lex had wondered before if ever the others entertained suspicions regarding the two, as well as the added care she would have to exercise in order to prevent them. But if she was ever unconfident of her abilities to do so, however, it certainly failed to show here, as the mage lifted her chin and offered a familiar self-satisfied grin. “And I should think the opportunity to observe the results of your planning worth my while, of course.” “Just seeing you more would be worth my while.” The words were out before he could rethink them, along with a self-conscious cringe—but the embarrassment only lasted for a moment before passing. Rictor hurriedly forged onwards. “Back to studying, then? I’d hate to be a distraction, of course.” He started sorting through her pile of books aimlessly, though it did little but upset whatever order Lex had managed to impose on the finds. When he got to the bottom, however, he came across a slim linguistic volume that looked far more familiar than the thick-spined research tomes. Rictor laughed and held it up, a cheeky twinkle in his eye. “Planen Sie eine Reise?” he asked. Planning a trip? Embarrassment traveling contagiously from one person to the next, Lex reached to grab the book from him, her eyes now wide (clearly, she thought heatedly, she should not have made the dubious detour toward the language rows). “That is nothing of interest,” she proclaimed, the faulty argument deflating as quickly as it had been spoken. An explanation attempted to piece itself together in her mind—something to do with academic interest in ancient Kerwonian mythology. But even that admission (assuming it was genuine) seemed to meander into a territory she seemed unwilling to venture through by her own free will. “And certainly nothing at all to with any other topics at hand,” she added failingly. “Absolutely nothing at all.” It was clear from Ric’s cheerful tone that he didn’t believe a word of it, but felt no need to rub it in. It was an unspoken understanding between them by now, things that no longer needed to be said. As difficult and against his nature as it was, he settled down, letting Lex get back to her reading as he resumed his. The knight’s patience was on a much shorter thread than the mage’s, but he gave it an effort regardless: flipping through his medical books, reading and fidgeting, his boot tapping against the floor, making his best impression of rudimentary scholardom (and now absently, distractedly wondering what Almalexia Lliryn might make of Cassul Keep). Lex settled in naturally beside him, pouring through the books she had picked earlier and falling into a comfortable silence (the language tome quickly finding itself back into hiding underneath the others once again). An accidental meeting, but one that had proven itself to be, by her estimation, rather advantageous. |