sir rictor cassul, korporal. (templars) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-07-28 20:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !thread, rictor cassul, seloria cassul |
follow your mother, your father and brother back home.
Who: Rictor & Seloria Cassul.
What: An unexpected gentleman caller checks in on his baby sister.
Where: The Van Eldt estate, then the garden.
When: Earlier this month, backdated to before plot shit hit the fan.
Rating: PG for slight language.
Status: Complete!
It was finally time to tear himself away from his usual schedule, the daily life of the Cathedral like clockwork, and instead uproot himself to head over to one of the van Eldt estates. That afternoon, Rictor stepped out of the hovertaxi, boots landing on the cobblestones. He rose with a stretch, easing his cramped limbs – he was too tall and his legs too long for those passenger seats – and craned his head to stare down the long, meandering driveway. And after paying the driver, he started walking, the gravel crunching with every step as he drew closer and eventually reached the intimidating front door. The approach reminded him too much of being a supplicant. This place was too large, built too sprawling, and it reminded him of religious monuments. It was too lavish, plainly put. Rictor – ‘Sir Cassul’, in the right contexts – associated with the nobles of Emillion as a matter of courtesy and obligation, but hardly gravitated towards them. The last few years had taught him to be far more comfortable with bare stone, cold hallways, and the austerity that brought one closer to Faram: no comforts, sleeping on threadbare cots, and waking at dawn to sharpen his gunblade and go for a run, honing his body like a weapon. Not this pampered luxury. Even Cassul Keep, far off to the south, was more stoic and practical than the mansions in the city’s Nobles District. But this was where Seloria lived, at least for now, and he’d wear the guise of a polite, nobly-born visitor accordingly. Ric pressed the doorbell, and electricks carried the signal deeper into the mansion. He knew she was expecting him. ------ The last few times she'd seen her brother, he'd been bruised and battered due to battle. She wondered how he'd look now. With the undead uprising, he would be undoubtedly called upon more often than not. And he'd been assigned a squire on top of that. So much work and so little time, but even she, not a soldier, had that problem. She'd been standing by the window on one of the higher floors looking out to see if anyone would be approaching soon. She didn't have the best view for it, which is why she'd moved to another part of the house. It would take her longer to go down to see her brother from where she was, but that was fine. She was growing impatient and waiting. And then the taxi pulled into the ridiculously long driveway. She waited until it got about halfway down before she left the room. Ric had just pressed the doorbell when she reached the bottom off the stairs. She waved away the staff that had been about to open the door and pulled it open herself. Her hair wasn't perfectly placed and wisped about her. The swift pace she'd kept to meet him at the door had brought a light blush to her cheeks. "Brother!" she exclaimed gleefully, as her arms swung up to wrap around his neck in a hug. Perhaps there would be talk of how unladylike her behavior had been, but this was a private home and he was her family. ------ The moment he saw her, something seemed to loosen in Rictor’s rigid military bearing; his posture relaxed and his face broke into the bright grin of a boy much younger than his years. For a second, their titles and training and standing melted away, and all he could see was the nine-year-old he’d left behind when he became a knight. Seloria flung herself into his arms, and without a moment’s hesitation, Rictor lifted the girl right off her feet and spun her in a giddy circle – she was tiny in his arms, small and slight and bird-like beside his hulking height. He eventually deposited her back on her feet, but still couldn’t seem to scrub the grin away. He had barely seen her lately, despite the fact that she’d moved to the city that he was slowly, ever so slowly, starting to think of as home. “You should eat more,” Ric said, lightly pinching her shoulder. “Are the van Eldts not feeding you enough? I’ll beat some sense into ‘em.” The staff, meanwhile, observed this in aghast horror. This was not how visitors were welcomed to the home. ------ All the decorum she'd kept up since her arrival, despite her strange need to go down into the commoner or worse the tenement districts, had melted away. She felt younger, like a child, again in his arms. He would always be her big brother. Her body fit in his arms perfectly as they had so long ago. A giggle trickled from her lips as he spun her around with such ease. Her legs outstretched behind her as he did so and she reveled in the simple glee that coursed through her before he set her down. Soon she was on her feet again, with a grin splitting her face to match his own. That was cut short by the pinch. She flinched away from him, smacking his hand chiddingly. "They feed me just fine, Rictor. I cannot afford to be a hulking brute like yourself. Could you imagine me in my silks with your shoulders?" Her hands came to either side of his own shoulders to show the exaggeration of width between his and her own. The woman had to stop herself short of sticking her tongue out at him. It was so easy to forget where she was and who was watching. In fact, the memory that there were eyes in every window of the monstrosity the Van Eldts called home. "Let's go for a stroll in the garden. Theirs is exceptionally lovely," she said in a more polite tone. Her arm slipped into his and she began to walk off in the direction of the gardens that she spoke of. The man at the door simply nodded to both and closed it behind them. Clearly he was unneeded for now. |