Violet Black (feldwebels) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-07-26 22:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, siri d'albis, violet black |
Who: Violet and Siri
What: A rather tense moment of getting to know each other
Where: Outside Emillion
When: Last month
Rating: PG-13. Things are spooky and a fight could break out at any moment?
Status: Complete!
This trip had been done in silence (mostly), the path treacherous even before they set foot inside the place where the artefact rested. Siri couldn’t help the recurring shiver that ran down her spine, making her shudder — not the cold, nor the wind, nor the rain — this was another kind of tingle. An unsettledness that rested among her shoulders (the feeling of being watched), not altogether unfamiliar for someone like her, usually heightened in areas of mist concentration but not always. Choosing to linger a little bit behind the rest of the party, Siri tilted her head in thought, glancing at the footsteps on the ground. There were not steps in her eyes though, only a vague feeling of treading on air — the nothingness that was coming closer with each step. Siri wanted to stop before it all faded beneath. Violet was in a sour mood, but she was doing her best to keep it from showing. She didn’t especially like inviting strangers in on a dangerous task, but she hadn’t any say in the matter. In truth, she couldn’t blame the Hauptmann for asking her to bring along extra mages; if she were being honest, magic was probably the one area where her Blades were lacking. But Violet didn’t like admitting such things, not even to herself. She could blame Athos for tasking her with watching one of the religious that had come along. Siri D’Albis was, as far as Violet was concerned, a false prophet, a strange child, perhaps pitiable, or possibly something worse. Violet hadn’t fully formed her opinions on the young woman, but constantly watching her out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but feel odd, quiet contempt coiling under her skin. She did her best to mask this as she strode through brush, hand always inches from her katana. The air was heavy the closer they got to the mountains, to the point that with the setting sun on their backs, the world seemed to darken and close around them. They’d been traveling since before sun-up and Violet knew that rest needed to happen soon. Not all of the travelers were hardened soldiers, after all. It wouldn’t do for the group to come across trouble with exhausted mages in tow. She slowed to a stop and turned to the group. “We should make camp for the night,” she announced. Violet’s command was unmistakable, Siri followed it the voices dipping in and out of her head as they made their way through sinking air and rising paths. The smile came unbidden as Siri observed Violet openly, she had no reason to pick up on the animosity the woman felt (it didn’t permeated yet, hidden as it was kept — her mind twisted). Observing Violet was for her own curiosity, knowing that the woman was Rictor’s superior, an individual of faith. “Here for the night?” There was a visible shudder, Siri didn’t mind the outdoors, she minded the high grass and trees and disliked the feeling of forest (nightmare, cold, damp monster, heavy — heavy). “I don’t like it.” Violet managed to keep her face impassive as she turned and looked at Siri. “It’s here or another hour from here where the terrain might turn rocky or be less hospitable.” There was grass here, sporadically popping up from the soil and the dirt appeared soft enough. The trees gave them some cover. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing, and certainly better than some camps Violet had made in her time. She gave out her orders, for some to set up the camp, others to work on a small fire. Then she turned to Siri again, “There will be food now and a watch throughout the night. It isn’t safe, exactly, but it’s the best we can do out here.” The mage didn’t move, observing instead as everyone around her was set on their task (and she? she was forever lost, feeling vaguely uncomfortable in this situation). “It never is safe where the woods are.” She looked upwards to the canopy, leaves rustling slightly as the wind brushed past (they sounded like shattering bones). Faced by that immovability, Siri felt the needs to sway slightly as she spoke with Violet (snake-like shifts, a cobra facing their snakecharmer — keep watching closely). “You worry about — you follow — worry, worry, worry,” She dropped the thought, picked it up again and wasn’t sure where to begin, “A mother worries about her children.” The question as to why Athos had forced the girl into the company popped into Violet’s mind as she listened to her speak. Violet wasn’t entirely sure if Siri was speaking aloud to herself or if she was trying to strike up conversation with Violet. Her past wasn’t entirely unknown and it seemed cruel to bring up motherhood and children, especially in a place like this. The shadows grew and covered Violet’s face, made it hard to see the way her features darkened momentarily. “Do you always speak in such a…” Violet paused a moment, dropping her bag lightly to the ground, “curious way?” She turned to observe the others, who were starting a fire and reaching into their bags for what food they’d thought to bring. For a brief second, she made eye contact with her Blades, giving the men quick nods. It was understood they’d split up the night watch with her. “Hm?” Violet pushed when she turned back to Siri. Ebb and flow with each shift from the samurai, the question formulated made sense but her mouth never seemed to obey her commands (sometimes yes, sometimes no). “There was a line once, between this and that, but it has been erased and redrawn so many times that there is no clear line. Perhaps Rictor and Caspar know best now, I see my reflection in their armour — what I was -am- will be. If you call me mad it will not anger me, because I’ve seen inside you already.” Deep red crosses across the white marble floor, smeared with broken fingers and tangled dark locks. You take three more breaths and pray for a God that will not reply. Faith shakes, but once you fall there is only one direction to follow. Siri smiled, dark eyes fixed on Violet’s features (if only the other woman could see it, bathed in the golden glow of fire and within the tangled labyrinths underground: that was where it waited (hers, not Siri’s). Violet’s brow raised. The girl certainly did seem mad, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud. Even with people she didn’t like, there were rules of etiquette that she followed, especially when they were under her care. If Siri was looking closely, though, she might have noticed the flash of distaste that curled the older woman’s lip. The girl was mad, but also rude in a way that would have earned a scolding from anyone who had all of their wits about them. “And what is it that you’ve seen in me?” Violet asked, curiosity getting the better of her. Whatever the girl’s response, it would give Violet insight into the kind of person she was. Perhaps she wasn’t a prophet, but a fraud, someone who was good at reading people and playing the part of a moon-eyed doe. Or maybe she’d just truly gone beyond the bend. There was no way to be certain, but Violet appreciated any help Siri might give her on the matter. She skid lightly over the dislike, not fully registering it in her own rambles and images. Social conventions were not for her, she could not adapt to them, they fell through her finger like sand and no matter how many times she’d pick them up; again and again they would fall. “You’re not going to like the answer, no one ever does. There is a long way to fall once you get to the top, you’d be best off not getting there. Stay in your underground maze, scurrying along the walls quietly — once you raise the sword you can’t put it down.” Siri smiled (blank and filled only by the light of the moon). “Is that enough?” “I believe,” Violet said, closing her coat tighter to fend off the light chill of the night, “that you’ve hardly said anything at all.” There was no wisdom there, in Siri’s tangled words, Violet decided suddenly. Anyone could say something similar, could hint on power corrupting. Anyone could scratch the truth when they spoke exclusively in sweeping generalizations and riddles. She turned her head, annoyance written into her features and she was unable to hide it. Shaking her head, she exhaled quietly. She’d report back to Athos that the girl was either mad or a lucky false prophet. Melancholy struck her, Siri averted her eyes before replying, "Yes, that often appears to be the case and no one listens until it is too late." Violet's annoyance felt palpable against her skin, a ghost that loomed over her (she moved back, wanting now to escape - she felt the rough skin - stone, chipped and weathered). "Dream well tonight." |